Page 17 of Descent into Madness

“As far as you being there to protect the Outfit, I’m fine with it. But I am paying for her, no one else will.” Manuel is firm.

I shake my head, suddenly overwhelmed to hear them talk about paying for me like I’m something to be wrapped up in a bow. I’m trying to back away, but Manuel still won’t let me go. “Let me go. I can’t. I can’t do this. My father…”

Suddenly, I’m up and in Manuel’s arms. Then we’re on the long leather sofa. So big, so broad, the heat of him wraps around me, somehow warming me from within. “Hey, Sunshine, it’s going to be all right. Your father is nothing more than an anchor dragging you and your mother and, in the end, the Outfit down.”

How can he say it like that? Only I can’t ask him the question. If I open my mouth, I’ll start crying.

“Nicolette, if you don’t want to marry Manuel, you don’t have to. My family will take care of you and your mother. You can leave with me.” Dominic is tense.

Beneath me, Manuel becomes stone. I flinch as I remember him warn me he’ll destroy anyone I try to put between us. I believed him then. I believe him now. I’m as tense as both of them, because I don’t want to leave with Dominic. I close my eyes, trying to find the words. Manuel growls. I press my hand on his chest. “I’m not leaving with you. I want…him.”

Manuel’s arms tighten around me. “Leave.”

It’s one word, but it vibrates with so many more. Nothing else is said, only the door closing behind him comes to me. From beneath my ear, Manuel’s heart thuds strong and sure. A large hand cups my face, his thumb is back on my lips. “Good girl. Finally telling the truth.”

I’m nodding with no memory of intent to agree. My eyes fly open to find him watching me. Blue, colorless almost, endlessness stares down at me. I reach up to touch his cheek, confirming he’s real, or in an attempt to cling to something in an effort to stop from floating away… I don’t know which one. His eyes close in pleasure. The air freezes in my chest, my touch does that to him?

I flash back to him running my hands down the silky skin of his stomach. In the moment, I was overwhelmed by everything. The head of his cock so big, hot, and hard burning into me. It was only a few inches inside me, yet fear clung to me at how much it could hurt me. Yet, somehow, I still craved him.

How had he known I wanted him to take me without giving me a choice? He said what I felt, it was too late the moment my eyes met his through the window. That’s why either answer of him being engaged to another woman before or after that crazy night was wrong to me.

We were twisting and churning until the moment we came together again. Everything about Manuel terrifies me. Not because he’s a deadly enforcer in one of the largest cartels in the world, because he can’t love me. If he can’t love me, how am I supposed to live a life without love? He was right, it would bring me nothing but pain.

And yet with his hard, hot body all around me, I can’t walk away from him. The idea is more painful to me. A life without him would be no life at all. I run my hand from his cheek down to his hard chest.

“Say it, sunshine,” he demands as the hand on my hip clutches me tight even as the hand cupping my cheek is as gentle as ever.

I bury my face in his chest. Can he feel me smiling, I wonder as I shake my head.

The hand at my cheek slides down my neck to grip me tight. God, why is it so fucking hot when he does that? “Don’t push me, sunshine. Or is that what you want?”

His warning is a growl from low in his big chest. The way it rumbles out of him has me greedy for more. I move until I’m straddling him.

He brings my face to his. His lips are inches away from mine. The scent of coffee washes over me, mingling with the leather and moss of his cologne.

“I want you, Manuel.” I sweep my lips lightly over his. A gentle sting, a frisson of electricity has me fighting for air.

He draws back. For a moment, my heart stops pounding. His eyes are wide with wonder. Drawing back wasn’t a refusal of my kiss, but…surprise? A finger runs over his lips. The words are out before I think. “I’m sorry?”

He shakes his head. “Do it again.”

Is it that he didn’t want to kiss other women? Or is it that he didn’t like kissing but wanted to kiss me? Either one sends the words out of me. “I’ll marry you.”

The words are barely out before he steals my mouth in a kiss that plunges us into the depths of hell. Heaven could never feel this amazing—this is what turns saints into sinners, has you pledging your soul to the devil as long as something this good never stops. If somehow, someway you lost this, you’d give up your soul to feel this again.

Here in hell, the heat is as intense as I feared it would be. The fire is beneath my skin, deep in the marrow of my bones. It’s turning my soul to ash yet it’s not enough. There is more, I can feel it—it’s just beyond my reach.

I can’t breathe. It doesn’t matter—I still cry from loss when he rips his mouth from mine. Suddenly, his hands are there, freeing his cock. My stomach twists in fear, my mouth is wet with hunger, and my core absolutely gushes to prepare for him inside me. I clutch at his shoulders as rough hands lower me onto his cock. Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god. Head back in agony, I fight the tears stinging my eyes at the pain his entry causes.

I’m soaking wet, and I sink down on him easily. He’s so fucking thick it still hurts as my body fights being taken over. My head is on his shoulder. I have no memory of biting him. All I know is his shirt is in my mouth as the pain pulls a moan from me.

“I’m sorry.” I gasp as I run a finger over the indention of my teeth in his skin.

He grasps the wrist of the finger on the bite and slides it under his shirt. I remember again how he wanted my hands on him. I’m reveling in the freedom to touch him. Silky skin lightly dusted with thick, black hair covers what feels like corrugated metal. I get greedy and push his shirt up until it’s almost off him. A hand slips into my hair and holds me still. “I consider it an honor my woman marks me as hers.”

Mine. The same way I belong to him, he belongs to me. His mouth is on mine at the same time both hands grasp my hips. He holds me firmly as he begins moving inside me. Slow. It’s too slow. I try to urge him faster, my hands desperate in his hair. Manuel isn’t having it. I might be on top, but he’s in control of this—of me.

I’m dying. I swear it. Manuel is a master of death in every way. He’s killing me…slowly, so damn slowly. His tongue teases, taunts, only to devour my every response. I could take his mouth or his enormous cock inside me but both is too much.God, too much. I can’t. Please. Please.

---