Page 68 of Cartel King

“Mine.”

He slaps my left one.

“Mine.”

He pushes me to lean forward on the mattress and grabs a cat o’ nine tails. He flicks it across my ass five times, the sting painful but not nearly what he could inflict.

“Mine.”

He nudges my feet apart until they’re more than hip-width apart. He takes a crop and strikes between my legs, nailing my clit. That one I can’t keep from crying out after.

“Mine.”

He pulls me up from the mattress, spins me so fast I nearly lose my balance, then devours me. He nips at my lower lip, then thrusts his tongue into my mouth. I tangle mine with his before sucking on his, rhythmically reminding him of what I can do to his cock. He coils my hair around his right hand while his left rests heavily around my throat.

“All of you is mine, Ellie. Mine to protect. Mine to pleasure. Mine to worship. You don’t want out because of who I am. You want to hidein casesomething goes wrong. You’re a stronger woman than that.”

That punches through the flood gates.

“I don’t want to be strong! I’m tired of it. Why do Ialwayshave to be the strong one foreveryone? Why can’t somebody else be fucking strongforme?”

Enrique pushes everything out of the way and gently lifts me onto the bed. I reach for him, but he pulls away. The tears that started as a dribble now cascade down my cheeks. He pushes off his jeans, then hurries to get on the bed beside me. He’s still hard from when I sat on his lap. Whenever I touch him, he seems to be in a permanent state of arousal. Is being this dominant what gets him hard? Or is it me?

He lifts me like he always does. I’m not a light woman. I’m a straight up heavy one. But he makes me feel delicate and petite when he does this. That’s why I don’t object. He positions me and guides his cock into me. Then he eases my head to his chest.

“Shh,chiquita. I’ll take care of you. Always. Just let me. Please.”

I want to believe him. I want someone to take care of me for once. I want to feel safe for once. Even though I left Boston and the Vizzinis, I didn’t feel entirely safe. Finding out there’s a car with a camera pointed toward my house freaked me out more than I admitted to even myself. Having his men nearby helped, but I only felt safe while Enrique was here, and that didn’t even last an entire night the first time. We’ve argued, and he was just punishing me, but I’m safe. He was punishing me because we’re into kinky shit, but also because he wants me to think better of myself.

He wants me to see myself as he sees me.

“Baby girl, will you let me take care of you?”

His accent does something to me. And the way he said baby girl…Dios mío.

“Sí, papí.”

Where the fuck did that come from?

His hand stroking the hair down my back pauses for a moment before he holds me tighter. The hand on my ass—one always seems to wind up there—squeezes.

“Are you learning Spanish,chiquita?”

“No. I don’t know where that came from.”

“You don’t mean it as the slang, do you?”

I try to shake my head.

“No, Daddy.”

There I said it. Every atom of tension in me seeps out. Not even a speck remains, and I feel boneless as he holds me. I’m suddenly so relaxed, it’s like I’m weightless. Nothing feels heavy anymore.

“Ellie, do you know what a Little is?”

Oh, shit!

“Enrique, that wasn’t what I had in mind when I said that. I—I’m not—I feel every fucking bit of my forty-nine years. I doubt I can ever be as carefree as I was as a child, and that’s a level of control I won’t give up. If that’s what you’re into—Is that why you call mechiquita, little one, little girl, and now baby girl? Is that what you’ve been hinting at?”

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