lowly.
“You need to run, now,” he grunts.
I frown. “What?”
“Run, princess,” he hisses. “They find you in here with me, they’re going to shoot me,” he growls. “And I don’t think daddy would be too pleased with you either.”
I scowl, shaking my head. “I’m an adult.”
“I’m sure Jorge Del Campo, cartel kingpin, would be open to the discussion given the circumstances,” he mutters dryly.
I bite my lip, and outside, the voices draw nearer.
“Go, princess,” he growls.
“But your handcuff…” my brow knits as I glance down at his wrist, with the metal ring still attached.
“Let me deal with that, and with them.”
I gasp as his huge hands suddenly slide over me and pull me hard and tight to his huge body. He growls and leans in, and suddenly, he’s kissing me hard enough to make my toes curl and my heart skip a beat.
“This ain’t over,” he purrs. “And I’m going to find you again. And next time, princess,” he growls. “Next time, nothing is going to stop me from taking the rest of you.”
His lips sear to mine, and I’m lost. It feels like I’m drowning, and falling, and like everything is on fire. I’m barely aware of him pulling back, or of turning and running for the back door to the clinic, or of looking back at the door and locking eyes with him.
I flee, and I run through the shadows until I get back to a side door to my father’s fortress. The guards frown at me being out by myself, but they obviously let me through without a fight. I run all the way up to my room and slam the door before I fall across my bed.
…Panting, gasping, and so eager for more.
A beast just made me come.
But that beast did something else, too.
…He stole my heart, and I’m not sure I ever want it back.
Chapter Five
Hush
My blood burns hot as I pace, back and forth, back and forth, from one stone wall of my cell to the other. It’s not just dark in here, it’s dank, and cave-like. It’s like I’m in the earth itself, which feels more imprisoning than just bars and concrete walls ever could. But I’m not even seeing the cage or the confinement now.
All I’m seeing is her.
It’s been just shy of three days since I tasted her. It’s been sixty-three hours since I felt those lips on mine, and that tight little body under my big hands. Sixty-three hours since I made her fucking come for me.
I’ve been hard ever since—achingly, rock-hard. And pacing. Because all I can do is pace, like a dog looking for his bone. Letting her walk away was nothing I ever wanted to do. But the other option wasn’t very good. If those guards had found her in there with me, they’d have shot first and asked questions later, our never. As it was, I got myself a nice little beat down with batons and tasers once they figured out I’d snapped my handcuff.
“Trying to run, cabrón? Trying to get away, culero?”
Whatever. I’ve fought more, and tougher. If taking out some hits on me with a bat is therapy for someone like Carlos or his little pathetic buddies, good for him. Little bitch.
I grunt as I pace, my blood boiling and my hands clenching to fists over and over again. Not to mention, my cock is so fucking hard and thick, throbbing against my jeans. I’ve already stroked it a dozen times, coming over and over in the darkness of my cell, her lips and her smell permeating my memory, urging me on.
But the waking dreams of her are a poor imitation, not when I’ve tasted and felt the real thing. It’s like trying to drink swill after you’ve tasted champagne.
And she’s Jorge’s daughter. This is fucked up, but I can’t stop thinking about her.
Footsteps approach my cell door, but I ignore it and keep pacing.
“Hola, faggot.”
It’s Manuel, the lieutenant who basically runs the cells down here. I could tell from his walk down the hall before he even said a thing. And I could definitely tell from the smell of the chewy frunos candies from his native Columbia that he eats constantly, all day.
“Ay, puta,” he spits. “Hey, perro. Hey, dog.”
I keep pacing, and Manuel snickers.
“You’re like a child, you know? You think this is tough? This silent treatment game? You look like you’re throwing a taunt—ah!”
He gasps and jumps away as I lunge at the bars, and I grin and step back.
“What,” I growl.
He