Page 25 of Fall
With my dick primed for fucking, I scoop her into my arms and swivel to the bed. The brutal desire to hang her head over the mattress and fuck her throat is matched with an overpowering urge to simply hold her close and watch myself catch fire in her eyes. The gentler notion wins. I lay her down and spread her legs, then sink in balls deep.
My palm secures her jaw. Our gazes unite. Her fingers roughly thread my hair. My forehead bangs into hers. And I combust in the sensations of a euphoric adrenaline rush.
I empty everything inside my beautiful mistake and kiss her so hard that a coppery tinge blends our passion and seals our fate.
In the wake of heart shattering tremors, I clamber to the side and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. The blood is my own. I take solace in the sting. I’ll only administer pain where pleasure follows, and it sure as fuck won’t cause her to bleed. “How do you do that, beija flor?”
My head spins. Goosebumps careen over my skin when she traces my bicep with roaming fingertips. “Do what?”
“Blow my mind every damn time.” I run a hand over my face and let my breathing regulate.
“Sir?” Luiz's voice crackles over the airwaves. “I have an update.”
I straighten to sitting and spring off the bed, crossing the floor until I reach the radio transmitter. Selecting a fully charged walkie-talkie, I carry it onto the wrap around terrace and move out of earshot.
“Luiz, what have you got for me?”
“The package landed in Brasilia. With back up.”
“Estimated time of pick up?”
“We’re surveying the collection point. Approximately an hour, sir.”
“Okay. Get in touch the second you’re in possession.”
“Understood. It won’t be long.”
We lured him to the outskirts of Brasilia for a make-believe drug deal. I’ve tracked his shady dealings long enough to know what makes him tick––cocaine. I’m sure he’ll replace the spineless hired help who my assassins killed recently. The very same assholes who showed up at my home in Rio with Miguel and sealed their fate as Gabriela’s murderers. They were there. They were just as involved in her death as the fucker who pulled the trigger. My paid assassins dropped those two guys off at the gates of Hell. He’ll need all the help he can get this time.
My men are skilled in combat. The best of the fucking best. And we have the advantage and foresight. By my reckoning, Miguel will be here after sunset. He’ll be unconscious for a few hours, and then the games will begin.
My stomach roils. The bright sunlight smarts my tired eyes. I didn’t get much sleep, not that I normally sleep for long anyway. Usually, I’m hunched over a keyboard with a cyber mission, not attuned to a female who fits into the scenery like a rare species.
I half expect her to be loitering close by, eavesdropping on my brief conversation. Instead, she’s holding up one of my T-shirts and muttering under her breath. I blink in the sight, palming my chest to ease the blood pumping faster. She’s cursed me with a permanent state of arousal.
“I’ll need clothes.” She slips her arms into the khaki colored material and glances over at me.
Standing straighter, I fight the impulse to storm across the room and seize the fabric hiding her physique. “You don’t need clothes up here,” I snap. “Take it off.”
She fakes a scowl. “Do you really want your staff ogling me?”
“Believe me, they won’t see you.” I return the walkie-talkie and twist the volume dial on the transmitter to zero. “No one is allowed up here. The only time the guys see this place is when they lower supplies from a helicopter.”
“I mean down there.” She points to the woven rug beneath her bare feet, signaling to the dark understory at the foot of the treehouse. “I can’t navigate the rainforest like this. Anyway, I’d like to see Sal again.”
My hands curl into fists. “That’s not part of the deal.”
Iris folds her arms and pads closer. “From what I recall, we’re still in the negotiation stage.”
This woman will be the death of me. I massage the base of my skull and sigh out my displeasure. Bartering isn’t one of my strongest qualities. I’m not the kind of man who gives in. That way mistakes don’t happen. There’s no room for misunderstandings. Which is why it’s hard for me to relent, but having her here has drained the aggression I’ve manifested for years. It’s grown into an ungoverned beast. Somehow, she’s softened all the jagged edges of my past and made them more tolerable. There’s no question that I should send her home, but the thought of never touching her again makes me hesitate.
What makes her so special?
She’s just a pretty girl hoping for sunshine, and I'm a thunderbolt waiting to torch the earth.
If she wants to drag out a goodbye, then she’ll stay hidden for a few days at most. That way I can focus on my business and ensure her safety.
“We aren’t negotiating. I’m telling you how it will be.” I cover the open plan sitting area with determined strides. “Stay up here where it’s safe, or go home.” My tone scratches the facade of our potential happiness. This is real life. Not a whimsical fantasy.
