Page 10

Chapter Ten

Enrique

“What the hell do you mean somebody shot him and Benicio and four of their men? How the hell did you make it out alive? Are you all right?”

I can’t fucking believe what Alejandro just told me.

“Yes, tío . I’m fine. Whoever the mercenary was knew me or figured out who I was because they shot everyone else at the table except me. The speed at which this shooter worked was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It wasn’t rapid fire. It wasn’t some spray of bullets. They picked off each man with precision either straight through the top of the spine or dead smack between the eyebrows. They took out everyone, saving Benicio for second to last. Ignacio was this person’s ultimate target. Whoever they were, they wanted Ignacio to have the time to recognize what he was losing and a moment to see his son die before he did. Either that’s how the hit was commissioned, or it was something personal.”

“You’re absolutely certain you’re fine, sobrino ?”

“ Sí, tío. You don’t have to worry about Mama knocking down your door to come after you because I got a hair out of place.”

“Good. Your mama isn’t too fond of me right now, and I don’t need her having an excuse to fillet me in my sleep.”

My sister got pissed like a shaken hive when she discovered where Alejandro went. She knows he’s a fluent Portuguese speaker, but she still doesn’t like it. He blends in, which is a blessing and a curse. It means he can pass for a local and doesn’t stand out in a crowd. However, because he can pass for a local, it’s easy for anyone to assume he’s in a cartel. They just don’t know which one. They wouldn’t know he’s in a Colombian one, not a Brazilian one.

When he travels to Colombia, everyone knows who he is between the reputation he’s earned for himself and how much he looks like me. He could pass for my son rather than my nephew. It only takes one look to know we’re related. That makes him untouchable in the countries we do business with down there. However, Brazil’s cartels don’t have the same hierarchy as those in Colombia. His rank within our cartel doesn’t have the same significance to them.

Incarcerated men lead most of the Brazilian cartels. Donos pay insurance money to them for protection outside the jails. The men in prison have far longer reaches than those who are free. They’re the ones who can keep people safe.

There’s no jefe at the top of their food chain. There’s no equivalent to Alejandro, either. That makes my sister understandably worried and unhappy when he has to go there, which fortunately is infrequent.

“ Tío , I caught a glimpse of the person as they pulled the van door shut. It was someone young. I couldn’t tell any specific features about the guy, but whoever he is has been trained well and has practiced a lot in the short time they could’ve been working. I’d guess they’re younger than me.”

That would put whoever this is in their mid to late twenties. It’s not impossible for a mercenary to have the skills Alejandro described at a young age, but very few can not only shoot that well, but break down their gear, be out the door and into a vehicle as fast as Alejandro described. That part takes the longest to master.

Luis is listening to the call as well since we’re in his office this evening. Margherita wasn’t feeling well today, so I came over instead of expecting him to leave his wife.

“What do you want me to do, mano ? Do we look at this as a blessing in disguise?”

“Hardly. Tommaso’ll be blowing up my phone by morning, expecting me to thank him for fixing a problem he created. Alejandro, get to the airport and come straight home.”

“All right, tío .”

It pisses me off that he’s leaving empty-handed. He’s not coming back with any of the money, and he doesn’t have any of the product either. I’ve been working on the latter, and I didn’t fully expect the former, but it would have been nice.

Luis, Alejandro, and I say our goodbyes with our round of “ te amos ” before I hang up. I look at my brother and sigh.

“Do you know who this shooter could be?”

Luis frowns and shakes his head. “No, but I want to. They should be on our payroll. I’d rather they work for us than one of us taking a bullet from them.”

“Have Joaquin find out who it is and strike up a deal. I doubt this person is Brazilian. My guess is American, English, or Russian.”

“Do you think the bratva discovered Ignacio’s fuck-up and cleaned house?”

“No, I don’t think it was them. But it could be an unaffiliated Russian who’s just work for hire.”

“If that’s who it turns out to be, how do you want to handle it with Maksim?”

I consider that for a moment. “If we get this person to work exclusively for us, then there’s nothing to say to him. If this person refuses, then they’re a threat to us. We don’t tell Maks anything. He can go fuck himself. We take this person out, so there’s no next time around. I won’t risk them not sparing one of our boys.”

“All right.” Luis is already shooting off a text as he speaks.

It’s late, and I’m exhausted, so I head home. I’m about to pull into my neighborhood when I get a text from Carlos.

She’s home.

My lips twitch, and so does my cock. I want to turn around and head to my chiquita’s house, but she’s probably exhausted too. I don’t know that she wants a reminder I have men guarding her, which means they’re watching her. If she thinks they report everything she does to me, it’ll freak her out.

But I have an overwhelming need to see her. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow morning. Part of me wonders though, how long it will take for her to ask Andrés or Carlos to let me know she’s back.

I pull into my garage as my phone pings again. I live in a gated community and on a gated property. I’m still waiting for the garage to shut all the way before I turn off the engine. I unlock my phone as I hit the ignition button. It’s a screenshot, much like the one Andrés sent me last week.

Can you please tell el jefe I’m home and I’m safe and sound?

I glance at my watch as I walk into my house. It’s nearly two in the morning. It’s an odd time for her to get home. I can’t think of too many flights that would arrive after midnight if they were coming into Newark or JFK, and LaGuardia stops inbound flights around eleven.

Perhaps she flew into a private airfield. Maybe she had to drive back several hours, and this is when she got in. I have so many questions and not nearly enough answers. I text Carlos back.

What’s her number?

He sends it to me immediately. I don’t hesitate before I tap the numbers in and hit call. It rings four times before I’m certain she sends it to voicemail. She doesn’t know my number. I tap out a text to her instead.

That was me, chiquita. I’m going to call back. Answer me. Carlos already told me you’re home.

I give the text a moment to go through before I hit the call button to redial.

“Enrique?”

“ Sí, chiquita . It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Enrique, it’s so good to hear yours, too. I—I—Fuck it. I missed you, Enrique.”

“Was that so hard to admit, little one? I missed you, too.”

“I don’t want to sound clingy or anything.”

“You don’t. I’m glad to hear that’s how you feel because it’s the same way I do. I missed you, and I can’t wait to see you. I heard Constantine misses me too.”

She chuckles, and the sound goes straight to my cock.

“I didn’t think you’d be awake right now. I hope having Carlos text you didn’t disturb you.”

“No, I’m still up.”

If only she knew how literal that was.

“Are you—” She pauses for a moment. “—up for a visit?”

Is she inviting me over to fuck?

“If you want me to come over, I can be there in five minutes, little one.”

“I don’t want to drag you out of your house in the middle of the night. I don’t want to be an imposition.”

“Ellie, you know you’re not an imposition, and if you believed I’d say no, you wouldn’t have asked. You know I want to see you. If you hadn’t just arrived home, and if it didn’t matter to me about you being out again in the middle of the night, I would have suggested you come here. But I’m happy to meet you at your place.”

“All right, I’ll be ready for you.”

I wonder what that means. I only have five minutes until I find out. I turn around and head back into my garage. I ensure the car’s locked before I hit the button to open the garage door. The moment it’s up high enough I don’t fear I could poison myself if it jams or something goes wrong with my ignition, I turn the car on. It feels like the door taunts me and is moving even slower than usual, but it’s only a few seconds before I’m backing out. The men who patrol my property barely notice since I come and go at all hours of the day, any day of the week. The guy at my gate nods as he opens it.

It’s the same as I leave the neighborhood. The guards who work there are all mine. They work for the community’s property manager ostensibly, but really I employ them. When I arrive at Ellie’s community gate, I don’t recognize the person working there. That immediately makes me uneasy. It’s not my men who work here, but I know almost all of them.

I’ve met them all from running through the neighborhood and most have worked here since I built the community.

“Good evening, sir. Which home are you headed to?”

I stare at him for just a moment before I give Ellie’s address.

“Oh yes, Ms. McCann just called to say she’s expecting you.”

The guy says nothing else even though I feel suspicious about him.

Something’s off.

As I approach Ellie’s house, I notice the car that was parked on the street for weeks is gone. I got an update while I was away that it left and didn’t come back. My men tried to get photos the few times anyone went near it, but it was always far too dark. I ordered it followed, but the trackers stuck to the vehicle disappeared, and the drivers know how to lose my men.

I know the owners of the house the car was always in front of since they’re the original ones. I know they aren’t connected to any syndicates, and they’ve been abroad most of this spring. I learned they didn’t rent out the house; it’s supposed to be empty. The car’s an anomaly I’m still trying to sort out, and my men’s failure is something that won’t go unpunished.

I pull into Ellie’s driveway and nod to Carlos. He and Andrés are the two most discreet men outside of my immediate family. They’re brothers and second cousins to Luis and me. That’s why I trust them most with Ellie. They won’t gossip about me coming over or how long I stay.

Part of me wants to send them home to increase our privacy, but after not recognizing the guy at the gate, I’m uncomfortable without somebody watching the house while I’m—shall we say—distracted. I shoot off a text to my brother before I get out of the car.

Find out who’s working the gate in Ellie’s neighborhood. I don’t recognize him.

I stick my phone back into my pocket and hurry to the front door. It opens the moment my knuckles touch the wood. Then she’s in my arms, just like the only time I’ve been here before. I twirl her around, her back against the door now. We can’t get enough of each other. Our lips meld as our bodies press together.

Her hands roam over me for a couple of minutes, then I take control once more. I lift her arms over her head, pinning her wrists together in one of my hands, but she pulls away and shakes her head.

“Not yet. Please let me touch you.”

Her tone isn’t begging, but her expression is. She needs this as much as I do. I let go, and she cups my face as we come back together for another cataclysmic kiss. I love it when she does that. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. Now that she knows who I am, I don’t fear her feeling the gun at my lower back.

Her leg presses against the top of it, but she doesn’t react. It’s one thing to know it’s there, but another to not seem to notice. In the back of my head, that strikes me as strange, but it’s not enough to make me stop what I’m doing. I squeeze her ass as I carry her to the sofa. The moment we’re seated, we’re pulling our shirts off. She unfastens her bra and flings it halfway across the living room. We pause long enough to laugh for a moment before diving back in.

We’re like two people lost in the desert who find an oasis. I sweep my tongue against hers and the satiny inside of her cheeks. Nothing has felt more life-giving than this. She tastes sweet, and I can’t get enough. She continues to cup my jaw while my hands move over her tits and back. When I tweak her nipple, one hand drops to my shoulder, squeezing to where it’s almost painful, but I relish every moment of knowing her desire matches mine.

Then both hands sweep over my pecs and up and down my abs. She moans with pleasure, and it does things to me. I unfasten her jeans and slide my hands down the back to her bare ass.

“ Chiquita , I missed this. My hands have felt so empty every moment I haven’t held you.”

“Enrique, it’s been such a long ten days. I don’t mind traveling, but it’s been a while since I’ve been this happy to get home.”

I kiss along her neck up to behind her ear. “I hope the next trip either of us takes is a getaway together.”

Where the hell did that come from? It’s way too soon to suggest something like that. I’m probably going to freak her the fuck out. However, when she leans back and our gazes meet again, she smiles.

“Can we go today?”

“The idea of traveling with me already doesn’t raise every red flag a woman should have?”

“It likely would if it were any other man, but for better or worse, I trust you, Enrique. And I can’t think of anything better right now than getting away somewhere that can just be the two of us, so we can get to know each other better without the outside world intruding. But I also understand after you left the other night that no matter where we go or what we do, there’s always the chance you’ll have to leave with no warning. I get that, and I’m okay with it.”

I watch her, and something in her tone and her gaze makes me suspect she’s used to that. Did her ex-husband have an affair and make excuses about why he wasn’t around? Did he have some type of job, like being a doctor, where he got called away unexpectedly? It’s not resignation, so I don’t fear she already resents that possibility, but it is acceptance. And not merely she thinks she’s okay with it but will later discover she’s not. It’s more something she’s already used to.

“Enrique, I can practically hear your thoughts whirling through your head. My dad is a trauma surgeon. He often got called away even when leaving the family was the last thing he wanted. While he chose the occupation, and you didn’t, he did important work just like you do. So, I couldn’t fault him for helping other people when they needed him the most. He missed holidays and school events and vacations because of work, but I could appreciate it because of his altruism.”

“Do you see me as altruistic?”

If she can wrap her head around that and believe it, I should nominate her for sainthood because she’s the most forgiving and accepting person I’ve ever met.

“I think you prioritize duty and loyalty to your family above all else, and to protect them means protecting the people who depend upon you. So, your loyalty and sense of duty extend to everyone beneath you. The movies might make it seem like all that syndicate men are after is money and sex, but that’s a naive way to look at a community. Syndicates aren’t just a transactional organization. They’re communities, and that means people depend on you who don’t directly work for you.”

She fucking gets me.

“I’m certain some of your men must have families who rely upon the money they make working for you. And businesses can only survive when they make money, and it’s reinvested into them. That’s why I can reconcile the things you do because of other people’s needs. I get I’m making excuses, but to me it’s also an explanation.”

“There are parts of me and of my life I will never share with you, Ellie. I can’t. It’s not safe for you, but it’s also a part of me I never want you to see. It’s the monster in me.”

She studies me for a moment before reaching back and pulling my hands away from her ass. My heart sinks until she laces our fingers together.

“Enrique, tell me the truth, and I will know if you’re lying to me. Do you do those things because you crave it? I don’t mean the satisfaction you might get when you dole out a punishment or justice to someone who threatens your way of life. Or do you do those things because someone trained you to?”

“No, I have no innate compulsion to do these things, but I’ve accepted my role, and I do what I must.”

I’ve accepted it makes me a monster with psychopathic tendencies.

She squeezes my hands.

“I understand vindication and justice. Sometimes that comes in the form of vengeance.”

I wait for her to say more, but she doesn’t.

“Have you always been this philosophical, chiquita ?”

“I don’t know that I’d call it philosophical so much as merely practical.”

“Most people would condemn me for what I do.”

“And it would be easy for me to do that, but I also know there are no limits to what I would do to protect my sons. There’s no limit to the violence I’d willingly inflict for their sake. There’re also no limitations to what I would do to protect my parents and extended family, but the visceral need for vengeance isn’t the same as it is when I think about my sons. That’s merely my reaction as someone who prioritizes family. Being trained to exact vengeance isn’t something I would wish upon you or anyone else, but if it’s kill or be killed, then I can’t fault you for doing what you must to survive and to protect your loved ones. There must be thousands of people who rely on you not just in New York, but all over the world.”

“Ellie, did you google me?”

“No, but I told you the other day, I’ve heard of you. I don’t know all the ins and outs of your business, but I know you’re pretty important.”

That’s certainly one way to put it, but I won’t tell her how much of an understatement that is. I kiss her cheek, and she leans against me. It’s a moment of affection I’m not accustomed to. However, I want to grow used to it. I want it to be something I experience every day and not just with anyone. Only Ellie.

We sit silently, just enjoying each other’s company. I sweep my gaze around her living room. The last time I came over, Constantine didn’t bark. He didn’t even get up. He just thumped his tail when I looked at him.

“Where’s Constantine?”

I don’t know the guy at the gate, and her humongous dog isn’t around. I’m glad I didn’t send Carlos away.

“My youngest son, Hunter, has him.”

“He didn’t bark or anything when I came to the door the other night.”

“I said your name and sent him back to his bed before I opened the door. Once he saw it was you, he was fine.”

“Would he normally react if a stranger walked in?”

“He doesn’t bark when someone knocks or the doorbell rings. He goes to the door and waits for me. If I send him to his bed, then he won’t get up unless I tell him to. If I don’t send him away, he’ll sit and wait for my command. If I don’t know who’s on the other side of the door, I usually won’t answer. If I answer, just seeing him is a deterrent. One flick of my hand, and he’ll stand next to me. He gets rid of solicitors before they say anything. But I told you, he’s basically a pacifist. For a biscuit, he’d tell you where all my jewelry is.”

“Do you have an alarm? You didn’t set one the other night, and you haven’t set one tonight.”

“You’ve distracted me with your kisses both times. Enrique, what’s going on? Why are you asking me about my home security?”

“When you called the gate guard, did you recognize his voice or name?”

She stares at me for a moment before looking toward her door. Her expression shutters as she stands. I watch her go to a keypad and punch in a code. She activates her alarm before she grabs her cell phone off the coffee table. I can’t tell what she’s doing, but I think she’s sending a text. She looks at her living room windows before returning her attention to her phone. She’s definitely sending a text now. She locks the screen and puts it face down on the table.

“I didn’t call. I was about to, but I saw the headlights flash from my driveway. I checked, and it was you. I figured you knew the guard, and they let you in.”

“He said you called to say I was coming.”

“Could one of your guys have done it?”

“No. The guard specifically said you let him know.”

Her phone vibrates, but she ignores it. If she sent a text, isn’t she expecting an answer?

“What did he look like? Did you see a name tag? Maybe I know him.”

“His uniform said Mark. He was about five-eleven, sandy-colored hair, with blue eyes. The light above the stable-style door made it easy to see him.”

She shakes her head as her phone vibrates again. This time with a call. She watches me for a moment before grabbing her phone. She slides it unlocked and puts it to her ear.

“ Que se passe-t-il ?” What’s going on?

Does she assume I don’t speak French like I assumed she doesn’t speak Spanish? I understand everything she says.

“ Tu l'as envoyé ?” Did you send him?

She listens to whoever’s on the other end. I can’t hear anything.

“ Trouve qui l'a fait .” Find out who did.

Whatever the response is, it’s brief.

“ Je t’aime… Toi aussi…Gros bisous. Fais de beaux rêves. ” I love you…You too… Big kisses. Make beautiful dreams—sweet dreams.

That sounds more like she’s talking to one of her sons than a lover or friend. I wait for her to hang up, and when she does, we stare at each other. I know she’s evaluating what to tell me. She comes back and straddles my lap. We both like it when she sits that way.

“Enrique, I obviously live a very comfortable life here. I told you I used my portion of the house sale after I divorced to pay cash for this home. I work my ass off to write and publish my books, and with ten years under my belt, I’ve got a solid income every month.”

She shifts, bringing her body closer to mine. She’s not doing it to distract me. She wants more physical nearness as she shares information she fears will push us emotionally apart.

“This is an extremely modest lifestyle compared to what I could’ve once had. My sons benefited by getting superior educations and having their undergrad degrees paid for. Two have already paid for their graduate degrees. All three got high salaried jobs on their own. All three are on their way to being independently wealthy. With that money comes resources. They worry about me. They don’t know you, and they didn’t enjoy learning you can come and go as you want in this neighborhood. My oldest son has a friend who owns a security staffing company. I wondered if he put his friend up to getting one of his guys hired here, so my boys could keep an eye out for me.”

“Did he?”

“No. My son didn’t know what I was talking about. I told him to find out who got the guy the job. He’ll reach out to his friend, who’ll call the security company. I’ve known my son’s friend since they were in high school together. He’ll ask some discreet questions. If he learns anything concerning, he’ll tell Will.”

There’s more to this she’s not telling me. She knows I know that. She’s bracing for me to demand an explanation. I could order her to tell me, but I have something else in mind.

“ Chiquita , I’m certain you’re safe here. Between the alarm system, my guys, and me, you’re well-guarded. But does it bother you enough that you want to go to one of your sons?”

“No. If you say we’re safe here, then I believe you. Besides, one of my boys is in New England, another is in Connecticut, and the third is staying with a friend in the city while he pet sits Constantine.”

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. It’s not that our lust is no longer there. We both feel it crackling between us. But we know there’s more we need to talk about, and it wouldn’t hurt for us to slow down a little. I try an easy question.

“How was your trip?”

“It was good, but it’s always nice to be home.”

Evasive.

“How about you?”

Now it’s my turn.

“Productive, but you’re right. It’s always nice to be home.”

I cup her cheek, and she leans forward. Our lips brush.

“I really missed you, Enrique. I didn’t think I would that much.”

“I hated not knowing how long either of us would be away.”

This kiss is languid as she melts against me. There’s a depth of emotion I know she’s not ready to admit. It’s one that unsettles me.

“Little one, I know it’s unfair that I can’t tell you about where I went or what I did. But I’d love to hear about your trip.”

Once again, she watches me as though she’s evaluating whether I have an ulterior motive for my question. She never takes more than a couple seconds, but I recognize it because I do the same thing.

“I got to see some folks I haven’t in a while. When I wasn’t thinking about you, the time flew. When I was, it dragged. The weather was nice.”

“Where’d you go?”

“The Caymans.”

“Beautiful.”

“It is. Usually, I wish I could stay longer and enjoy more of it.”

“You said you wouldn’t mind if we went away for a little while. Had more time to get to know each other without distractions. I know most—people don’t travel together so soon. But it’s a good way to get to know if they’re compatible.”

I caught myself before I said couple, but the moment the word compatible came out of my mouth, I knew I fucked up.

“I think we already proved we’re pretty compatible. I think we were about to remind ourselves of that.”

I stop her as her hands trail down my chest toward my abs. I wrap my hands around her wrists, and she pulls back from leaning in for another kiss. We may as well have it out since it’s only going to linger over our heads.

“Ellie, you know what we shared was far more than what fuck buddies do. It meant more to both of us.”

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had. I hope it’s always like that for us. Of course, it meant more because we learned the sexual tension between us was worth it.”

I tighten my hands. “Bullshit, Ellie. Why’re you downplaying it?”

She yanks her hands from mine, and I let her go. She stands and backs away, shaking her head.

“Don’t do this, Enrique. I told you what I could give. You said you could accept it. Don’t ruin what’s starting.”

I stand and step forward, but I don’t crowd her. “And I told you from the start I want more. That I see us being more. We are more .”

Tears well in her eyes, and I rush forward. I no longer care whether I crowd her. I pull her into my arms, feeling her shuddering breath.

“And you had to leave in the middle of the night. I didn’t lie. I understand it, and I can accept it. But it doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared for you. It doesn’t mean I didn’t worry. I told you I never want to be emotionally reliant on anyone ever again. If you push this to become more, then I’ll fall for you.”

“And you expect me to disappoint you. You expect me to fail. I’m not your damn ex-husband.”

“No. You’re more likely to die. That’s even worse.”

She clings to my shirt. From her rigid body that’s usually so pliable against me, I know she doesn’t enjoy admitting this. It makes her uncomfortable because she can’t control this. Not what could happen to me, nor how our feelings have exploded between us.

I sweep her into my arms without a word and carry her upstairs. I go straight to her bedroom and kick the door closed behind us. I put her on her feet in the middle of the room, then move to the end of the bed and sit.

“Strip.”

“Enri—”

“Strip. Do not make me say it a third time, chiquita . Your sexy ass won’t like the spanking I’m ready to give you.”

“Spanking? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

I rise and prowl toward her. When I’m standing toe to toe with her, I grab the front of her thong that’s exposed by her open jeans. I tug as my other hand rests lightly on her throat. She doesn’t balk, so I put more pressure on it without squeezing.

“You’re disobeying me, little girl. You say you want control over your life, but you feel out of control because you want something you refuse to admit. It’s overwhelming you. What you need is a break to clear your mind. You need someone else in control, so you’re not worrying about what comes next beyond how I’m going to make you come. Take your clothes off before I rip them off. I will shred them.”

I give her a gentle push back as I step away. Her hand flies out and fists my shirt. She tugs and goes onto her toes. She offers a kiss that nearly steals my resolve to play out this scene.

“Yes, sir.”

She pushes her jeans down as I go back to the bed. Her fucking panties need to go. I struggle to maintain all the restraint my father and uncle drilled into me. I want to maul her.

She kicks her jeans away as she watches me. She must see how much I’m enjoying this torture because her back straightens and her shoulders inch back. She lifts her chin, and the expression that enters her eyes is pure seduction. Her hands glide from the outside of her upper thighs over her hips and along her ribs. She watches me for as long as she can as she turns away from me. In a thong, I have a spectacular view of her ass.

She hooks her thumbs into her thong’s waistband and playfully moves it up and down a couple inches, but before she pushes it down, she twists to look back at me.

“No. Face away from me while you take it off. I love your tits, but I’m fucking your ass tonight. I want to see what I’m going to take.”

“Enrique, you know I don’t feel comfortable with you seeing my scar.”

“You’re going to feel even more uncomfortable when my hand lands across your ass.”

I walk over and slide my arms around her. I slip my fingers down the front of her thong and press them into her pussy.

“You’re already so fucking wet, little one. You feel how hard I am. That won’t go away until I’m inside you, and I can come. You might be unwilling to give me your heart, but you’ve given me your body. It’s mine to enjoy however I want, Ellie. I’ll never lie to you about how I feel about you. I’ll never lie about how attracted I am to all of you. I’ll never lie about how badly I want to fuck you in every position we can come up with. I want to bend you over that bed, fill my hands with your ass, and plow you until you beg me to stop because I’m too rough. I want to give you a moment to catch your breath, then take my cock that’s covered with your cream and fuck your ass. I want you to be a sloppy, dripping mess with proof of how much I want you. You agreed you wanted to try submitting to me. You will obey me now.”

Her breathing’s rapid and shallow. Halfway through my declaration, she reached back and grabbed my pants as though she feared her legs would give out if she didn’t have an anchor.

“Take your thong off and give it to me.”

I kiss the crook of her neck, then move to give her room. She rushes to follow my command, turning toward me before shimmying it off.

“Which drawer has your underwear?” I walk to her dresser.

“The top one.”

I reach for the dresser, giving her a moment to stop me in case there’s anything she doesn’t want me to see. She does nothing but watch. I open the drawer and pull out a pair of bikini panties. I take my knife from my pocket and flick it open as I observe her. Her eyes widen for a second as she watches my hands, then her gaze darts to me. I say nothing, so her attention returns to my hands.

I slice a slit into the cotton, then rip it apart. When it’s in two pieces, I drop it on the floor. I do the same to two more pairs. I close the knife and drop it back into my pocket. I sweep up the rest of her underwear and drop them on the floor. I push the drawer shut and walk through the strewn panties. When I get back to the bed, I sit with my hands clasped between my open thighs.

“Throw them all out.”

“I can’t go commando all the time.” She’s indignant.

“You will. When I want your cunt or your ass, you will not hide either of them from me.”

She assesses me, considering what I’m saying. I know she’s dissecting what she believes is dirty talk and what’s serious. She’ll learn I’m dead fucking serious about all of it.

“Come here.”

She moves slowly, but it’s not with hesitation. She wants to regain some control. If she wanted it all back, she wouldn’t move. She’s obeying me, but she wants it on her terms. I can accept that.

When she reaches me, I stand then spin her away from me. I pinch her ass hard enough to leave a mark for a day or two. I move her hands behind her back. Once I cross them, I use her thong to bind them. I fist her hair, pulling her head to my chest, but careful not to jerk it too hard. I bring my lips to her ears.

“Pick a safe word, chiquita .”

She licks her lips. I can’t help but steal a kiss.

“Mushrooms. I hate them. I would never ask for them.”

I wrap my hands around her waist and lift her as I turn. I put her on the bed, guiding her to kneel with her shoulder pressed into the mattress. I drop to my knees, spread her ass cheeks, and lick her. My tongue travels the length of her pussy and up to her asshole. I stop just before it since I don’t know how she feels about that. I don’t want to ruin this by taking it a step too far.

I knead her ass cheeks as my tongue dives into her, swirling inside her cunt. I pull her toward me, making her flex her hips. I nuzzle her before latching onto her clit. I work it until she’s panting and moaning. She’s fighting the urge to move, catching herself each time her hips rock. She’s doing her best to obey my silent command. That effort turns my lust into something akin to a wildfire. It’s unpredictable, roaring uncontrollably.

I continue as my right hand glides up her ass to her hands. I wrap my fingers around the material between her wrists. The heel of my other hand rubs her pubic bone before I slip three fingers into her. I ease just the tips to the first knuckle, teasing her until she whimpers. I thrust to the base of my fingers. I stroke her G-spot, and she can no longer master the need to move. Her hips rock as she pulls away from the intense pressure, then rocks back, needing more.

She cries out when I let go, but it’s only long enough to strip. Then I’m inside her with one push.

“Fucking hell, chiquita . I’m going to come.”

I fight the need because she hasn’t gotten off. I pound into her, reaching around to rub her clit, desperate to make her come.

“I’m close. Don’t stop, Enrique.”

My balls might shrivel up and die if I stopped.

“Fuck. You feel so good, Ellie. I can’t last much longer.”

My dick is working on its own schedule. It wants what it wants, and it wants it right now. Blessedly, her inner muscles contract around me. I watch her arms straighten, her triceps straining. I see her fingers move, and I realize she’s reaching for me. I lean my body over hers and thrust once more before blowing my load.

I want to collapse, but I’ll crush her if I do. I rush to untie her wrists, then I lift her off the bed as easily as I put her on it. I can carry all of my nephews, and there’s not a light one in the bunch. She’s a feather compared to their two-fifteen, two-twenty asses. I sink onto the bed with her on my lap. I engulf her in my arms. If I turn her, I’ll have to lift her off my dick. I don’t want to break that connection.

Her hands run up and down my forearm as she tips her head to rest against me. She turns her face toward me, and even though it’s a little awkward, we share a kind of kiss I only share with her. She stands, but only so she can sit on my lap with both legs hanging over my right thigh. I wrap my arm around her back and brush away hair that’s sticking to her temple. She gazes up at me, and the ice that’s encompassed my heart since I was ten and stabbed someone for the first time cracks a little more.

“Let me take care of you, Ellie. Let me give you everything you need. Let me try to give you everything you want.” Let me love you .

“You are taking care of what I need. I needed that with you .”

“More than that. Let me do more things like cleaning out your gutters. Let me keep you company when you aren’t walking your dog. Let me in.”

“Don’t do this. Please.”

“We want to spend more time together. We’re growing closer. You just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I watch her withdraw into her protective shell. I realize too late she’s probably heard promises like these before. She believed them, and then she lived with the disappointment for years. I want to rail at her and tell her I’m not him. That I won’t disappoint her. But she’s scared.

“You keep pushing me, and all it does is make me want to run. Then I feel shitty because the only place I want to run to is you. You make me feel safe because I know you’ll do your best to protect me from anything. But I’ll resent you putting me in a position to need you like that. Please don’t make it come to that.”

She makes it sound like an emotionally manipulative cycle. She’s not wrong. It’s not what I want or intend, but that’s what I could wind up doing. But I hate how she refuses to accept what we both know is there.

“I told you I wouldn’t lie about my feelings for you. You might not lie about trusting me to protect you. But you’re lying about the other half of what you feel. You’re pushing yourself away. You’re distancing us because you don’t want to admit you want something more with me. You’re too scared to admit it.”

She scrambles off my lap, evading my hands as I reach for her. She shakes her head, then points to the door.

“I know I’m scared. I’ve admitted as much. I don’t need it thrown back in my face. Leave if you don’t like what I can give you. Find it somewhere else.”

“You know I won’t. I can’t. That’s the whole point.”

“It is. So, accept what I can give you or go without.”