Dirty Angels

by Karina Halle

  I had let this man inside me.

  It was going to be hard to get rid of him.

  “Do I feel good?” he asked me, his impassioned eyes searching mine as he slowly pushed in and out, taking his sweet, torturous time, getting in deeper and deeper.

  “Yes,” I said, gasping, finding the need to both stare into him and look away. It was so intimate being able to gaze into his hypnotic eyes while he made me feel so alive and electric. “You feel good.”

  I didn’t feel like I was very good at talking during sex but he didn’t seem to care. His nostrils flared at that and he grunted. His breath was becoming shorter as were his thrusts into me. “I can make you feel more than good,” he said.

  He reached down between my legs and started stroking me. Now the pleasure was doubling throughout my body, from the wet swirls of his fingers to the thick fullness of him inside me. I loved watching his shaft drive in and out as he fucked me, loved the way his arms and shoulders rippled from the strain. I couldn’t take the bliss anymore. It wasn’t long before I was coming, crying out and digging my nails into his back.

  “That’s it,” he grunted, “fucking scar me, mark me, make me bleed.”

  I dug my nails in further and rode out the wave just as he started picking up the pace. He was an animal. He started fucking me and fucking me hard, as he promised. I held on, even as the desk started to move from his strong, sharp thrusts and my head began to thump against the surface. It was turbulent and rough and half-crazed, and yet I was loving it. I loved watching Javier lose all control because of me.

  The power felt incredible.

  It wasn’t long before he was coming and I made sure to take in every single detail. The way his brows scrunched up, his hair stuck to his sweaty face, and how he closed his eyes, his back arching. His jaw went rigid—every part of him went stiff—right before the violent release that had him groaning loudly and gasping for breath.

  He collapsed on top of me, careful not to put his full weight on my body. His cock was still inside and I could feel the wetness start to trickle out of my legs. While he slowly regained his breathing, he propped himself on his elbows on either side of my shoulders and coaxed my hair behind my ears.

  Javier was beautiful when he’d just come, when he was still inside me, softening. There was a gentleness to his eyes, an easiness to his smile. This was what I’d wanted to see all this time, just a glimpse of the boy behind the man, and the man behind the monster. He stared at me so tenderly and openly that I knew he had a soul. It didn’t mean it wasn’t stained and filthy, but it was there.

  “So?” he asked, running his thumb over my lips. I could smell myself on his fingers. It was the smell of us together, good and bad, captive and captor.

  I cleared my throat. “So,” I repeated, finding my voice. My world was still a million spinning colors because of that orgasm.

  “So I’m going to pick you up and bring you to my bed,” he said simply. “And we’re going to do that all over again.”

  I blinked. “Already?”

  His mouth quirked up. “I warned you.”

  That was true. Still, I thought I’d be heading back to my room to be alone again. Even though that’s not what I wanted last night, it was something I needed now. I needed time to separate myself from my hormones and reflect on what had happened with some distance and space. I needed to think about the power I earned and all the ways I needed to keep it, especially now that I knew my sex was his weakness.

  But as I let him scoop me up into his arms and carry me, while he was naked, down the hall and into his bedroom, I realized he was my weakness as well.

  I had the feeling that we weren’t through with ruining each other.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Javier

  I woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. I was hung over, something that didn’t plague me very often. I rarely got drunk—you couldn’t in this business, not when you were at the top.

  But yesterday I had been a different man. I had become a man enslaved to shame. Not for what I did to Franco. I felt zero revulsion or regret over torturing that man. Even when he begged me to stop and I took out my dick and pissed on his gaping wounds, I didn’t feel bad about that in the slightest.

  No, my shame was because of Luisa, because I had failed to protect her and because I had broken my promise. I never made them in vain. I had meant what I said. As strong as she was, I knew there was a fragile casing underneath that could crack under the worst circumstances. All this time I wanted to break her, and the only way that I could have was by doing something I would have never made myself do.

  I guess that said something about me, that I had a limit to my ruthlessness. But if I didn’t have my own morals and my own code, who would? Someone out there had to lead by example.

  I rolled my head over and took in the sight of Luisa sleeping beside me, pretty much hanging off the edge of the bed, her back to me. She was wearing one of my dress shirts, oversized on her petite frame, but I couldn’t recall why. Perhaps because it looked fucking hot.

  She seemed to be in a deep sleep, her sides rising and falling, her hair spilled around her on the pillowcase. Part of me yearned to reach out and feel it between my fingers, to wake her up by kissing her shoulder. But I had to keep those urges to myself. I was surprised I even let her sleep in my bed and hadn’t sent her back to her room.

  Memories of fucking her on the desk were followed by several rounds in the bed. That’s why I didn’t send her away.

  In all reality, I made a mistake. A big one. I shouldn’t have succumbed to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her, shouldn’t have fucked her. I knew it was a dangerous road to go on for me, to allow myself to be intimate with her, to be inside her. Watching her come while I was buried deep in her pussy was like a religious experience and it flamed my devotion. It spurred an addiction and made me insatiable for the next hit. It was in my nature to crave sex like I craved water, and I knew too well how cravings could derail even the most solid plans.

  I exhaled through my nose, trying to focus on said plan instead of her. There was nothing wrong with a man having sex with a woman at his disposal, provided he would still be able to get rid of her at the end. It was expected of me, in fact, to be using Luisa every way I could. Most captives were treated far worse. The complication came at the end of the week, when she would be gone, one way or another.

  But I just couldn’t make myself think about that, about the hard choices that lay ahead. I had to believe I would do the best thing for me and my cartel. I would make the right choice, as ruthless as it would be. I had to trust that about myself and then let it go. The dilemma would be dealt with then and only then. Until her days were up and Salvador made his call, I was going to pretend that Luisa was here under different circumstances.

  I was going to make the best of her.

  Carefully, I eased myself out of bed, not wanting to wake her, and made my way to the bathroom. I flicked on the lights and briefly admired my naked reflection in the mirror. Though I boxed in order to beat any opponent—I’d lost a fight once and never intended that to happen again—I also did it to have my body look as good as possible. Judging from the hungry look in Luisa’s eyes last night, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  I brushed my teeth, gargled mouthwash, and decided to run a bath and put on the Jacuzzi jets. My limbs were quite sore, not just from the sex but from the things I did to Franco. Rubbing a clit to completion and sawing off someone’s foot seemed to use all the same muscles.

  It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the bathroom door.

  “Yes?” I called out, craning my head to see.

  The door opened and Luisa poked her head in. Once she spotted me in the bath, she looked flushed but she didn’t leave. “Sorry,” she said.

  I smiled at her bashfulness. “Don’t be sorry.” I patted the rim of the tub. “Come over here.”

  She scurried across the tiles, my linen shirt billowing around her, and planted h
er perky bum beside me. She looked down into the tub and quickly looked away, a small smile on her lips. For obvious reasons—mainly the sight of her—I was already erect, the tip of my dick poking out of the moving water.

  “How did you sleep?” I asked, my wet hand caressing her bare legs. I watched the goosebumps erupt on her flesh.

  “Surprisingly well,” she said.

  “That shouldn’t be surprising. I wore you out.”

  Her eyes went soft and held mine for what felt like an infinite amount of time. “Yes. You did.”

  I nodded at the water—well, at my erection—and skimmed my hand along the surface. “Come, join me.”

  She pursed her lips, seeming to think about it, before shaking her head.

  I grinned at her. “That was a command, not a suggestion.”

  Before she could protest, I reached forward, put my arm around her waist, and pulled her down into the water. She cried out, half-laughing, as she plunged in on top of me, water splashing over the side of the tub. My shirt was immediately soaked, but I didn’t give a fuck.

  “Come here,” I whispered, bringing her down on my chest, one hand gripped firmly behind her neck. I loved holding her here, so delicate, so powerless. I stared up at her face, the wet ends of her hair tickling my skin. Bringing her closer, I kissed her softly on the lips, teasing the rim of them with my tongue until she let me in. Even in the morning she tasted delicious.

  I cupped her ass and gave it a firm squeeze, grunting a little. I needed to control myself—I was already so turned on, stiff and swollen, that the littlest thing could set me off. I had a reputation to keep.

  “Ride me,” I told her before I held her lower lip between my teeth and tugged. “Ride my cock. Impale yourself on it.”

  She raised her brows. It probably didn’t sound hot to her but it sounded oh so fucking perfect to me. Sex needed to be a little rough and crude to balance out the elegance. A touch of tasteful violence goes a long way.

  I reached down, moving my floating shirttails out of the way, and found her bare pussy. I pressed my fingers against her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to get her started. Her lids drooped and a lazy smile graced her lips.

  “You like that, don’t you, my beauty?” I said, keeping my pace consistent as I slid my fingers down through her folds and teased the opening of her cunt. It was so tight, begging me to penetrate it, that I sucked in my breath in anticipation.

  She nodded and I thrust a finger inside her, her body stiffening around it before relaxing. “Tell me you like it,” I coaxed her.

  “I like it,” she said throatily, shutting her eyes and embracing the pleasure.

  “Do you want my cock inside you?” I whispered, licking the shell of her ear.

  She moaned, nodding quickly. “Yes.”

  “Then ride me like a queen.” I put my hands around her hips and scooted her back. She grabbed onto the edge of the tub for support while I held her with one hand and kept my dick rigid with the other. She slowly, carefully, lowered herself onto me. It was excruciatingly deliberate, my balls tightening as my body already begged for release. Such a fickle beast it was.

  She let out a breathy moan, her fuckable lips parting, and her head went back, exposing her throat. She felt like a velvet glove around me.

  The sight of her riding me, my wet shirt clinging to her breasts, my cock going into her tight pussy, was almost too much to take. I kept a firm grip on her hips, holding her tight, so I was in charge. That was the thing about having a woman on top. They think they’re in control, that they’ve got all the power, but that was never the truth. I was controlling this ride. Every thrust, movement, swivel—it was all mine.

  I kept the pace slow, the rhythm easy, as the warm water splashed around us, the jets blasting against our skin. The sounds of our moans and heavy breathing echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the shiny glass and tiles. Just when I knew I couldn’t take much more, I sat up slightly while keeping her on me. I put my thumb against her clit and reached around and teased her ass with my index finger.

  She inhaled sharply but I merely grinned at her. “Keep the pace,” I commanded as my finger pushed in between her cheeks. “I’ll bring us both home.”

  She did, moving her hips continuously while I fingered her rosebud, her muscles contracting around me. From the way she sank deeper into my finger, I knew she was enjoying the stimulation, wanting more. I exhaled carefully, controlling my breathing as best as I could. When I was ready to come, I raised my knees so my hips slanted under her and simultaneously flicked her swollen clit back and forth.

  She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head and began crying out, loud as hell. God, I loved how vocal she was. Her body shuddered, and she clenched hard around my dick until I couldn’t hold back. I grabbed her hips and kept her moving as she came until I was letting loose inside of her, coming in torrents.

  Nothing in this world ever felt so fucking good.

  I kept her rocking back and forth, slowing her gradually as her body grew limp from the exertion. Finally she fell on top of me, her breasts pressed against my chest, and she buried her face just below my ear. I heard her breath even out, felt the warmth of it soothe me. It was quiet and satisfied. It brought me a strange bit of peace, something I hadn’t felt for a very long time.

  We lay there for a long time, her breathing in my arms, until the jets shut off and we were surrounded by silence.

  Silence that was quickly shattered by a knock at my bedroom door.

  I covered Luisa’s ears with my hands and yelled, “What do you want? I’m busy!”

  I heard Este say something muffled and then my bedroom door opened. “I need to speak with you,” he said.

  “Well stay right the fuck where you are. I’m in the bathroom.”

  “Doing what?”

  Luisa raised her head to give me a look and I let go of her ears. I gave her a sympathetic smile then hollered, “None of your fucking business! Give me a minute.”

  “I’ll be in your office.”

  I heard my door click shut.

  I groaned, straightening up in the tub. “Sorry,” I said to her. “Business.”

  “Right,” she said as she leaned back on her heels. “Business.”

  We exchanged a loaded look. We both knew what the business was.

  I could see how our fucking was about to make things a lot more fucking complicated.

  I quickly got out of the bath and dried off, wrapping the towel around me. “I’ll come right back,” I told her as she hoisted herself out so she was sitting on the edge of the tub, staring down at her feet in the water. “And you better be naked, lying on my bed with your ass in the air, waiting for me.”

  At that, I left her in the bathroom and quickly got dressed. Black silk shirt, black jeans. I hurried out my door, shutting it behind me, and went down the hall to my office.

  Este was already sitting in the chair, making it swivel back and forth while he sipped on a Tecate.

  “It’s still early,” I said, nodding at the beer as I came around the desk and sat down.

  He took a swig and shrugged. “I’ve had a hell of a time the last few days.”

  I cleared my throat and folded my hands neatly on the desk. “Well, I suppose that makes two of us then.”

  He cocked a brow. “Oh yeah? I suppose all the sex is helping.”

  My eyes narrowed. He needed to be careful. Out of my peripheral I could see the letter opener sticking straight out of the desk. Then the memories of slamming Luisa on the desk last night began to seep into my brain.

  “Oh, you’ve got it bad,” he commented snidely after a moment.

  I snapped to attention. “Why did you call me here, Este?”

  “For obvious reasons. We need to talk about the girl.”

  “And why is that? Is she bothering you?” My hackles were going up. I couldn’t help it.

  “No, not me,” he said, finishing the beer and putting it on the desk. I watched as the col
d drops of condensation ran down the side, heading straight for the fine finish. I reached over and quickly slid a thin coaster under it before it was too late. My desk had been abused with too much scotch and cum last night as it was.

  “Then who?” I asked.

  “Well,” he said, “she’s making you bother me.”

  “Who told you to speak in riddles, Este?”

  He leaned forward and looked me dead in the eye. “I’m afraid you’re putting yourself and the cartel in jeopardy.”

  I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “We have already been over this.”

  “But now you’re fucking her.”

  “So? I know you fuck things too, on occasion. Whores and your hand.”

  “I’m worried you’ve been compromised.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I think you worry about all the wrong things, and I think you forget who you’re talking to. Since when does fucking someone compromise anything? It’s my damn right to use the hostage any way I please. Don’t get all jealous just because I’m not sharing her.”

  “I’m not jealous,” he said. “Not much, anyway.” He eyed my half-empty bottle of scotch. “But you were drunk last night, which meant something had gotten under your skin. It wasn’t what you did to Franco. It was what he did to her. And if that affected you, a little abuse and attempted rape, how the hell are you going to kill her when this is all over? Or deliver her to Salvador, if that ends up being the case? You won’t.”

  My gaze grew flinty. “Don’t tell me what I will or won’t do. Remember what you used to say about assuming, how it makes an ass out of you and me. Don’t be a fucking ass, even though you’re so good at it.”

  “Funny,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. “Anyway, I thought I’d bring it up again. I’d hate for the others to start thinking the same thing.”

  I got up too, pushing my chair back. “How about you let me worry about that?”

  He gave me a self-assured look. “Just don’t grow a mangina.”