Page 33 of Tangled in Red

“Tan hermoso,” he murmured, blanketing Brett’s back with his chest. “Mi elegido. Mi corazón.”

Brett arched beneath him, pushing back to meet each thrust. “What—what are you saying?”

“That you’re beautiful.” Diablo twisted his wrist on the upstroke, feeling Brett shudder. “My chosen one. My heart.”

Brett’s body tightened around him, signaling he was close. Diablo adjusted his angle, hitting that kill spot with each thrust now. His hand worked Brett’s cock faster, thumb swiping over the sensitive head.

“I can’t—” Brett’s words dissolved into a choked cry as he came, spilling over Diablo’s fingers and onto the sheets below.

The rhythmic clenching around Diablo’s cock pushed him toward his own release. His thrusts became more forceful, driven by instinct now. Heat coiled at the base of his spine, his balls drawing tight.

“Mio!” he growled, sinking his canines into the juncture between neck and shoulder, breaking skin. His orgasm shattered him, his seed spilling deep inside Brett, marking him from the inside out. The bond was instant. Diablo felt the moment it snapped into place, their souls binding. His climax struck harder as Brett cried out his name. Extracting his canines, Diablo licked the wound.

For several heartbeats, they remained locked together, breath ragged, bodies slick with sweat. Diablo pressed kisses along his elegido’s shoulder blades, murmuring softly in a mix of English and Spanish.

When he finally pulled out, he guided Brett onto his side, away from the wet spot. His mate’s face was flushed, eyes heavy-lidded.

“You okay?” Diablo asked, brushing damp strands of red hair from Brett’s forehead.

Brett smiled lazily, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. “Better than okay.”

Diablo chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. Sliding from the bed, he padded to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He cleaned Brett with gentle strokes, taking care around sensitive areas, then tossed the cloth aside. When he crawled back into bed, Brett caught his hand, threading their fingers together.

“How did you get this?” The pads of his fingers brushed over the scar on Diablo’s wrist where the chains from the warehouse had dug into his flesh.

Diablo lay beside his mate but didn’t pull his hand away. Outside, the night stretched on, stars flickering through the small gap in the curtains. Sin & Steel had gone quiet, most patrons gone home, pack members settled into some of the rooms.

“When I was ambushed.” He rubbed his chin over Brett’s hair. “Woke up with heavy chains around my wrists that were attached to a hook in the ceiling.”

“Oh my god,” Brett breathed, his fingers still skimming over the scar. “How do you say I want to kill those bastards?”

Diablo grinned, his lips brushing damp hair. “Quiero matar a esos bastardos.”

Brett repeated him, surprising Diablo with how well he could roll his tongue now. As if reading his mind, his mate said, “I’ve been practicing.” He blushed so brightly Diablo felt the heat through his scalp. “I wanted…” He shrugged. “I wanted to impress you.”

The confession cracked Diablo’s heart wide open. “Misión cumplida.”

“Mission accomplished?” Brett grinned up at him, green eyes sparkling.

“Sí.” Diablo chuckled. “Who taught you quiero follar. Quiero que me folles fuerte?”

“Edward.” Brett snuggled closer, Diablo draping an arm over him. “He said it would be a sweet way to say it, since I’m so shy.”

He nearly choked on a snort. “I’d hardly call you shy, elegido. You’re a bossy pants in bed.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Brett tilted his head back to look at him, worry in his dark green eyes. “I can tone it down if—”

“Hell no,” he growled. “Shit turned me inside out, cariño. Anytime you wanna call the shots, I’ll be your obedient pup.”

Because with Brett, Diablo didn’t know which way was up anymore. He was lost to his pajarito and didn’t want to find his way back.

“Mi lobito.” Brett snickered.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Only for you, beautiful.”

Brett poked him in the ribs, causing Diablo to let out an undignified yelp. “So, what did I really say? You told me I was close enough, which means I didn’t nail it.”

“You didn’t have to poke me to get me to answer.” He nibbled on Brett’s ear, groaning, “I want you to fuck me, papi. I want you to fuck me hard.”

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