Page 28 of The Love Language of the Cartel

She didn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure coursing through her body. And that was all the answer I needed. She may not have wanted to admit it now, but deep down, she knew we were meant to be together.

I increased the pace of my thrusts, and Demi arched against me with a cry of pure ecstasy, her body writhing. I buried all nine and a half inches of my dick deep inside her one last time before reaching my own peak and spilling inside her. We both collapsed against each other, panting and spent. Our bodies were slick with sweat as we clung to one another in the aftermath of our unplanned, passionate encounter.

A few minutes passed before either of us uttered a word. “Why did you do that?” Demi asked quietly, her voice still shaking with emotion.

“Because you needed to know that you belong to me,” I replied honestly.

She pulled away from me then and looked me straight in the eye. “But I don’t belong to you. I can’t be owned,” she answered firmly.

I sighed and ran a hand over my low curls, feeling a slight sense of defeat wash over me. She was right—no one could legally own another person.

“I’ll never truly be yours,” she whispered.

I smirked before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “We’ll see about that. You know what, I changed my mind.”

I swept Demi into my arms and carried her down the hallway, my hands curling her naked body into my chest. She trembled slightly—whether from the chill in the air or the aftermath of our encounter, I wasn’t sure. I felt a primal satisfaction seeing her like that— marked by me and vulnerable.

We reached a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. I pushed them open, revealing my private quarters. “This is where you’ll be staying,” I informed her. “With me.”

Demi’s eyes widened as she took in the room. The massive king bed dominated the space, draped in rich, dark fabrics. A wall of windows offered a breathtaking view of the Mexican countryside.

“Get comfortable,” I told her, setting her on the bed. “You’ll need to rest before tomorrow.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly seeming small. “I . . . I need clothes,” she muttered, refusing to meet my eyes.

I nodded, moving to a nearby console. “I’ll have some things brought for you. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll make sure you have it.”

There was a long pause before she answered barely above a whisper. “Is going back home to Chicago on the table? Because that’s what I want.”

I raised an eyebrow, studying her naked body appreciatively. Demi was delectable from her head to her pretty pink toes.“How much will it take to make you want to stay? Ten bands? Twenty? A hundred? Five hundred? Name your price.”

She flushed, anger and embarrassment warring on her face. “I’m not cattle, Ozias. I can’t be bought. And even if I could, the price tag would break your bank. Now, just get me something to wear,” she snapped.

I chuckled, reaching for the phone. “As you wish. But so you’re aware, I prefer you like this,” I gestured to her naked form. “Naked and all fuckin’ mine.”

Demi

The sun’s golden fingers stretched across my face, luring me from the depths of my sleep. I blinked, disoriented, as memories of the previous night flooded back. The silken sheets whispered against my skin as I turned, expecting to find Ozias’s commanding form beside me. Instead, I was greeted by rumpled bedding and a lingering warmth where his body should’ve been.

“Ozias?” I called out, my voice hoarse from sleep. Silence answered me.

I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest as I surveyed the opulent bedroom that smelled like palo santo and sage. It wasn’t a far cry from my luxury apartment in Chicago, with its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the Mexican coastline. The gentle lapping of waves reached my ears, a soothing rhythm that opposed the turbulent emotions churning inside me.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stood on shaky feet. The plush carpet sank beneath my toes as I padded toward the window, my reflection ghosting across the glass. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me—disheveled curls, eyes haunted by the weight of the recent events.

I hadn’t even had time to process losing Samara fully. I couldn’t help but feel like she was dead because of me—that they werealldead because of me. That was a weight I never expected to carry. I didn’t like the feeling of blood on my hands, especially not innocent people.

My mind flashed with every memory my brain could muster of Samara and me—from the first day we met at private school to our joint sweet sixteen party to the last night we spent together in Mexico, living it up without a care in the world. Of all the times to have needed a crystal ball, that would’ve been one of them.

I’d spend the rest of my life hating Ozias for orchestrating her death and taking her from me.Fuck Ozias.But now that I knew what it was like to actually fuck Ozias, what it was like to feel him speaking tongues over my pussy—every line between us had blurred. Where were the boundaries? What were the rules? I felt like a traitor for sleeping with the enemy. Not only did I betray my family but my best friend too.

Still, in the depths of my mind, I didn’t know how long I could keep up the charade that I didn’t want to feel him on my body again. I loved the feeling of his hands all over me. His softer side made his darker side more tolerable. Maybe it was the slickness of his tongue that got him far with me, breaking down my invisible walls. Perhaps it was his big dick with the slight curve to the left that hit my spot just right. Regardless, my feelings for him—whether hatred or something more pleasant—didn’t warrant a discussion outside of my head. At least not yet.

When I was a child, my nanny Gloria would always read me the same bedtime stories—a big book of fairy tales every night. Every story was the same, always the handsome prince coming to save the princess and riding off into the sunset on his white horse.

She never spoke of the prince’s dark side.

She never said the people he’d slay would be innocent.

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