Page 28

As the warm bubbles continued to rise, Ozias turned to face me.

His expression was soft yet weighted with words he had yet to speak.

His strong hand found mine and swallowed it up as he looked into my eyes.

I saw a flicker of hesitation as if he were grounding himself before taking a giant leap into the unknown.

“If it’s too personal, you don’t have to—”

He waved his hand to silence me. “It’s not that. It’s just I’ve never talked about it before. Not outside my head, at least,” he admitted.

I waited patiently, recognizing the turbulence inside him. “Does not being able to talk about it mean you regret it?”

He swung his head in a sharp no. “I could never regret doing something that needed to be done. I think you’ll feel the same. Not today. But one day.”

I scoffed. As much as I wanted to tell him he didn’t know me, he’d called it. I didn’t regret it. Sure, I was fucked up about it. I felt a lot of fucking emotions. Regret just wasn’t one of them. When I took too long bouncing around the thoughts inside my head, Ozias spoke up again.

“I think in order for you to understand the significance of my first kill, you’d first have to understand more about me and who I am.”

“Then tell me,” I insisted, listening attentively.“You hardly ever talk about your past.”

Ozias reached for me, his hands slightly trembling as he slowly undressed me.

I stared at him in uninterrupted silence, noticing the painful weight of years etched into his every gentle move.

Once I was fully naked, he scooped me into his arms and eased me into the bathtub, submerging me under the bubbles.

“I was born into chaos, and that shit molded me in ways I haven’t always been proud of,” he said as he started to wash all my father’s blood off my hands, both literally and figuratively.

“I took my first breath in Corpus Christi, Texas. Then, I moved to a small city in Mexico with my mother after she split from my drug-dealing father when I was around two years old. Life there was full of struggles, but it all got ten times worse when my mother was killed by the cartel when I was five.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh my God. I-I’m so sorry.”

He dipped his chin. “Yeah.”

“So, what happened after that? You were so young when that happened. Where did you go?”

“I was headed to the orphanage when a man who said he was a friend of my mother’s came to get me.

His name was Armando Diaz. Armando took me in, raised me, and offered me the kind of protection I needed at that age.

He was kind and street smart but also heavily connected to a world I was too young to understand at the time.

” Ozias paused, staring down at the bubbles as if searching for answers he still hadn’t been able to find after all these years.

“By the time I was fourteen, I was following in his fuckin’ footsteps like a dutiful son.

You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t his blood.

I thought I was paying him back for taking me in after losing my mother, y’know, proving my loyalty and shit.

But instead, I let him mold me into someone I never thought I’d be.

I started at the bottom, training as a drug mule while learning weaponry and other combat skills.

Over the years, I became the top enforcer for the cartel, which is how I got the nickname ‘El Diablo,’” he explained.

“How many lives have you taken?”

“If I told you all the horrible things I’ve done or how many men I’ve killed, would you run away?”

“I could’ve run away from you a million times, and I haven’t gone anywhere yet. Not even a bullet can seem to keep us apart,” I replied.

“Over a hundred,” he admitted. “None of them fucked me up like the first because, just like you, it was personal.”

His words made a lightbulb go off in my head. “Oh shit . . . Armando was your first kill? The man who raised you?”

Ozias dipped his chin to confirm my suspicions. “Yes.”

“But why? I don’t understand.”

“Because he was the one who ordered the hit on my mother.”

My heart sank to the soles of my feet. “Oh my God. And then he turned around and raised you? How did you find out?”

“He kept a photo of her inside his office desk drawer. He thought I never knew about it, but I did.”

“I’m confused. Why would he have a picture of your mother?”

“Because he loved her, and she ran away to America, met a black man, and had me. When things didn’t work out, she was desperate and reached out to him.

He arranged for us to move back to Mexico if she agreed to become a drug mule for him.

She did it for a few years, but I was getting older, and the jobs were getting riskier, so she told him she was done with the cartel and him for good. ”

“She wanted out, and he had her murdered?”

“In cold fuckin’ blood.”

“H-how did you find all of this out?”

“He admitted to all of it with my gun to his head and two bullet holes in his kneecaps so he couldn’t run anywhere. Once I had the truth, I blew his fuckin’ brains out and took over his entire operation. Since then, I’ve never given a fuck about taking a life. Not until I met you.”

“Me?”

“I know it’s going to sound crazy, but losing our baby at the hands of your reckless ass father may have been the key to restoring my humanity. It made me realize I didn’t want to keep doing shit that hardened my heart. From that point on, I vowed to only kill for the people I love.”

I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue, not wanting to interrupt the unshielded emotion I witnessed in his gaze. When he didn’t, it prompted me to ask the burning question on my tongue. “Y-you love me, Ozias?”

Before giving him the chance to respond, I stood up from the tub, exposing my bare breasts and glistening pussy.

He froze when he saw me. Then his eyes darkened with lust as they roamed hungrily over me.

I inched closer to the edge, his presence grounding me, giving me the courage to face my own demons through what he’d carried on his shoulders in silence for so long. My heart raced with anticipation.

“What are you doing, Demi?” he asked, his deep voice sending shivers through me.

“Answer my question first.”

He sucked his teeth. “Demi.”

“Yes or no, Ozias. Say it,” I demanded, lifting my leg up on the edge of the tub.

He swallowed hard, clearly fighting a losing battle against his desire and pride.

I stepped out of the tub and stepped between his legs.

Pressing my body against his, I felt his hardness straining against his pants.

Wetness dripped down my thighs. Grabbing his hand, I guided it between my legs so he could feel what type of time I was on for him.

“Fuck, princessa ,” he groaned as his fingers glided through my slick folds. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

I moaned as he teased my aching clit. “All for you. You said you were going to take care of me, right?” I said, looking at him through my lashes. “So, I want you to fuck my pain away.”

“Are you sure? You’re still recovering,” he acknowledged before he laughed and nervously ran a hand through his curls. For a second, he looked as though he was bracing for rejection.

“Positive,” I replied, giving him the green light.“I just had my stitches removed.”

With a growl, he crashed his lips against mine in a searing kiss. It was raw, unpolished, and entirely him. His tongue delved into my mouth before he pulled it out. He bit my bottom lip and pulled it through his teeth. I melted against him, my wet nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest.

“You’re something like an angel, you know that?” he growled in my ear.

I scoffed lightly. “Yeah. The angel of death.”

“Still an angel, no less.”

He scooped me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and carried me into the bedroom. Tossing me on the bed, he quickly stripped off his clothes, revealing his muscular, tattooed body.

I licked my lips as I took in the impressive size of his thick, hard dick. Pre-cum glistened at the tip. He crawled over to me, nudging my thighs further apart.

“I’ll fuck every last ounce of your pain away,” he promised darkly.

“Yes, please!” I whimpered with need.

He knelt down, licking a trail down the center of my body before staring openly at the water droplets on my pussy. He groaned, moving his head forward until his mouth was on me, licking and sucking my love button.

I cried out as his tongue swirled around my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. He lapped at my juices, devouring me like a dehydrated man in the desert. I writhed beneath him, my fingers tangling in his curls, holding him against me.

Another moan slipped past my lips. “Oh fuck, Ozias!” I called out as he slipped a finger inside me, slowly pumping it in and out.

Soon, he added a second and then a third, stretching me in the most delicious of ways. His fingers curled, hitting that sensitive G-spot deep inside. I swear I saw stars as my back arched off the bed.

“Ooooh fuck! Don’t stop! Don’t fuckin’ stop!”

He worked me mercilessly, his fingers and tongue bringing me right to the edge, then backing off, over and over, until I was a quivering, begging mess. “Please, O. I need you inside me.”

Rising up, he positioned the tip of his dick at my entrance with his eyes stationed on mine. “Whenever you’re ready, I will spend the rest of my days trying to put another baby inside you.”

I blushed, the flush creeping over my chest and heating my face. “Okay . . .” I whispered, but my affirmation was small.

I wiggled my hips, my pussy brushing against the tip of his dick, the ache inside me growing as the seconds passed.

He took a deep breath, trying to restrain himself. “I’ll go slow, mi amor . Let me know if it’s too much.”

With that, he began to push forward, the thick head of his dick breaching my tight entrance. I gasped at the stretch and burn as he sank deeper into me inch by inch. He paused, letting me adjust before pushing deeper.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight,” he groaned. “Relax for me, Demi.”

I tried to relax my muscles while breathing deeply. Gradually, it gave way to a satisfying fullness as he filled me completely.

“You okay?” Ozias asked, holding still with genuine concern in his lust-filled eyes.

“Y-yes. Don’t stop, and don’t go easy on me,” I demanded.

Bracing himself on his forearms, he began to move, sliding out before thrusting back in with a smooth roll of his melanated hips. Each intimate stroke seemed to reach deeper inside me, igniting my nerve endings with exquisite friction.

His pace gradually increased, and I moved my hips to meet his, finding a rhythm as the pleasure built inside me with each deep thrust. He buried his face against my neck, his breath hot on my skin as he let out a low groan.

“Fuck, Demi, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He panted while snapping his hips faster and driving into me harder. “You’ve ruined anyone else for me, baby.”

I cried out, my nails digging into his muscular back as a tsunami of sensations threatened to sweep me away. Electric sparks of bliss radiated out from where we were joined. Every nerve in my body came alive.

I purred with pleasure. “Ooooh fuck.”

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take this dick. I’m going to make you cum so hard.”

One of his hands slipped between us, his fingers finding my aching clit. He circled the sensitive nub, and stars exploded behind my eyes. My inner walls clenched around him, my whole body drawing taut as the coil of tension inside me wound tighter and tighter.

“Fuck! I’m so close.” I whimpered, on the knife’s edge of ecstasy.

“Cum for me, Demi,” he commanded as he kept working my clit. “I want to feel you come apart all over this dick.”

His words were my undoing. With a cry, I shattered, my release crashing over me in wave after wave of searing bliss. My body shuddered and clenched around him, holding tight onto his thick shaft as he continued to pound into me, prolonging my electrifying climax.

“Fuck yes, just like that,” he growled, his rhythm growing erratic. “Gonna fill this tight ass pussy with my seed if it kills me.”

With a guttural moan, he slammed into me one final time, buried as deep as he could as he found his own release. I felt him throbbing and pulsing inside me, spurting hot jets of his seed deep in my pussy.

Slowly, we came down from the high, hearts racing and chests heaving. Ozias collapsed on top of me, his weight a comforting anchor after being utterly wrecked by pleasure. He nuzzled my neck, pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he mumbled quietly against my wet skin. Although the words were barely above a whisper, they hung in the steamy air between us. His gravelly voice was firm but filled with emotion as if he were exposing another piece of himself to me that he’d safeguarded for far too long.

I froze as the air caught in my throat mid-breath, and goosebumps populated all across my skin.

The world seemed to tilt slightly as his confession settled over me, warm and disarming.

It was then that I realized I’d witnessed him grow brave enough to confront the darkest parts of his past right in front of me.

He’d laid his heart bare in a way I knew he’d never done before.

I felt it in the uptick of my heart whenever he said my name or in the goosebumps that crowded on my skin whenever he touched me—the truth of his confession mirrored my own unspoken feelings.

I loved him too. If I hadn’t been sure of it before, I was now.

But the weight of the heavy ass day I’d had mixed with the paralyzing pain and devastation that swirled inside me like a raging tornado—they silenced me, rendering me speechless.

My lips parted to allow words to come out, but none did.

I blinked a few times, breaking eye contact with him.

I was suddenly overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Instead, my hand found his and gave it a firm squeeze.

It was all I had to give, but he seemed to understand.

Still, it didn’t stop me from feeling the sting of guilt.

He replied with a faint smile, though the flicker of disappointment in his eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“It’s okay,” he finally said out loud as he leaned forward to kiss the back of my hand.

“On our wedding night, I promised you I’d go to the gates of hell and take on the devil himself for you, and I meant every word.

I know you’ve been through a lot, but you’re safe now, Demi.

Now get some rest,” he said as he kissed my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”