Page 15 of Hostile Vows
Liquored breath warms my cheek as he looms over me, his pelvis tight to my hip, pinning me in place.
“I’m enjoying our reunion, even if you're not. Tell me… what have you been up to all these years? Any serious boyfriends? Or maybe you should tell me how long you’ve been hanging around with Sapori?”
I arch a brow at him and opt to keep the details of my past where they belong. “I’d rather stick pins in my eyeballs than hang around with Frankie. He’s an evil dickwad. I was enjoying freedom until he showed up out of the blue and kidnapped me. Just like that.” I snap my fingers. “Now I’m engaged to an older guy whom I’ve never met in person, but know he has a face like a rat. So, turn around and continue walking. We have nothing more to talk about.”
He smirks. “Oh, you’re wrong. We have so much to discuss. And right now, I want details. I’m dying to know how you’ll entertain your new husband.” The firm grip burrowing into my cheeks moves to my mouth. “Will you kneel before him like a dutiful wife should and stretch these beautiful lips around his dick until he spurts his cum down your throat?” He manipulates my lips with his fingertips before forcing his middle and wedding finger into my mouth.
In the seconds he drives them inside, I take the opportunity to clench my teeth, only to meet a solid silver ring instead.
“Bite me and I’ll bite you back, Sin.” His stance widens to solidify him in place. “Or maybe you’d like that?”
His suggestion bumps into the dark thoughts of my mind. For some reason, it leads me to a place I never expected to visit, but feel drawn to the curiosity of it. I shake my head violently, not sure whether I’m trying to convince myself or him. I used to have a tendency to seek out danger just for the thrill of it, to feel something other than emptiness. That was before I settled into a life that made me numb.
He hums, rather than offer a response to my denial. “Will you gag on your husband's dick while spittle clings to your chin and hot tears glide down these pretty pale cheeks of yours?” Tension sparks, the heat of his body wrongfully enticing.
“Suck,” he demands. I shiver, resisting the compulsion to obey. “Let me feel you suck.” I’m drowning in open water with the sensation teasing my tongue, still I won’t give in. If it’s possible, all the light evaporates from his eyes, so they become impossibly dark, signifying his change of mood. “I want to see your cheeks hollow for me.”
I’m attuned to the quick drop in his timbre, how it’s morphed from playful to animalistic. I should be freaking out by the sudden switch, except for some unknown reason it both intrigues and provokes me in equal measure.
Without thought of the consequences, my palm sails through the air and swats the coarseness of his strong jaw. Immediately, his fingers retreat and a ruthless hand grasps my throat. Not enough to fully strangle me, just enough to steal a single breath and secure my chin, so I can’t look anywhere else other than into his eyes.
“Fuck off, asshole.” I swallow against his palm as I try to sound in control of myself.
“You’re not playing nice,” he growls into the side of my face, slowly pulls back, and stares right at me. “Do that again and I’ll return the biting sting of pain tenfold. I know for a fact I’d get off on punishing your ass. It’s these leather pants, Sin.” His opposite hand sinks lower, the expanse of it cupping the leather hiding unforgivable dampness. “They do bad things to my dick.”
“Why are you doing this? You’ve turned into a sick fuck, André Souza.” I do my best to snarl at him, even though my unruly veins pulsate in places they shouldn’t.
It’s an irrational reaction to him, something we started as children and never had the chance to fully extinguish. He was the one person who gave me hope, and now he’s the epitome of the very thing I despise.
“You’re the one who hit me,” he counters, brows raised. “I’m just trying to get reacquainted.”
“It was inevitable you'd grow up to be just like your father,” I say in a clipped tone.
André had told me monstrous stories about Elias Souza. They made my skin crawl. Mostly because I had sat under the weeping Hawthorn tree on the Hennessy estate and wished for a father who would protect me. Until I met a young boy who needed protection from his father’s heartless lessons. Then I counted myself lucky.
Years later and the matured version of that sweet kid mirrors the grandiose attitude of his father and is very much artful in his sexual energy over women. He’s clearly strived hard to live up to the Kingpin’s expectations.
“I disagree.” His forehead creases, a hint of anger digging out the shallow wrinkles. “I’m more easygoing than he ever was. The old man was a paranoid fucker, whereas I know you’re happy to see me.”
“The kid I knew wasn’t like this. He wouldn't threaten to hurt me.”
A shadow of something unrighteous moves across his expression. “As you can see, I’m no longer a kid. There’s a difference between a spineless fucker who slaps women around and a man who offers next level sensations.” The noise he makes is like a laugh hacked with blades until it bleeds darkness. “All of a sudden, you’ve reappeared, Sin. I had to hear from Don Sapori that you’re his daughter, because you refused to talk to me. So, now I’m interested in learning how you’d entertain your husband once you finally belong to him.” His voice slips to tattered silk. “Call it curious intrigue.”
The pressure of his inflexible physique tight against mine confuses me to the point I’m dizzy. Unforgivable warmth blooms between my thighs, the heat of it raising my temperature.
“It’s none of your business. That's personal,” I manage to grit out. “Wouldn’t you rather help me escape from a wedding I want no part of? I guess you really were lying when you promised to always be there for me.”
His muscles go rigid. “I can’t be there for someone who disappears in the middle of the night.”
“Understood. I’ll find my own way off this yacht—I’ll take my chances with the sharks instead of marrying Acer.”
Thinking about him makes my organs shrivel. It’s a sick revulsion that suffocates any light ahead of me. Once we're officially married, I know he will subject me to whatever depraved acts he sees fitting for a new wife.
André’s lips twitch at the corners. “Are you asking me to save you?”
“I don’t need a man to save me. I was only asking for your help. Aren’t you the hotshot Colombian drug lord reigning over Miami? Surely you must have a little sway here?”
The pop of his thick brows tells me I’m close to touching a nerve. “You seem to know a lot about me. But I guess if you really knew what I was capable of, you’d choose better words. If I get you out of Acer’s orbit and remove you from this yacht, what would be in it for me?”
