Corrupt - Elena M. Reyes Page 0,60

she releases. Instead, I walk us to the center of the passion fruit grove. “Come with me. There’s one more thing…”

“More than this beautiful garden? This place is perfect.”

“Thank you.” Standing behind her, I kiss the crown of her head and pull her back to my chest. She shivers as one arm wraps around her midsection. My girl lets out a lovely hum when I bring my cheek down next to hers—nuzzling her. “I planted this grove the year my father died so Mom wouldn’t go without. You see, it’s her favorite fruit drink, and he holds the blame for this obsession.” I press my lips to the area just below her ear and smile when she mewls. “It’s the first thing he bought her when they began to date, and their chaperone stopped to buy fresh fruit at a stand. My great grandmother wasn’t an easy woman, but that little detour from their walk in the park changed their lives. She loved it so much and promised to stick by his side as long as he provided a few of these each week.”

“That’s a very sweet story.” Her expression is happy; seeing her take in something as simple as this cluster of fruit trees after dismounting my horse—hearing my story—is adorable. The sweetest treat after her pussy. “But what about when the fruit isn’t in season?”

“I have a few distributors for those occasions.”

“It’s sexy how you’ve covered all your bases, Alejandro. Always going above and beyond.”

“The Lucas men are known to be possessive and equally giving.”

“How giving?” she says while turning her face in my direction, the pink on her cheeks coming from more than just the sun exposure today. It’s innocent curiosity. It’s need and hunger.

“Bend over and you’ll find out.”

“Christ.” Now her voice is low and breathy—sinful as I bite the soft skin of her chin. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to feel me. “You…I…oh, God!”

“Let me show you.” It comes out gritty and hungry, the length of my cock pressed against the small of her back. “Come with me.”

“Anywhere.”

“Right answer.” Taking her small hand in my larger one, I walk past her and pull us deeper into the pasture. My eyes shift to look at her as I follow a familiar path, wondering what she’s thinking. If she’ll forgive me one day for what I’ll do to the men she calls family.

My feelings for her will not deter me from slitting her grandfather’s throat when the day comes, but I will consider her feelings. I’ll console her. I’ll earn her forgiveness.

But two things are certain:

They will die. She is mine.

“Shit!” Solimar suddenly trips on fallen fruit and stumbles into me, clutching my shirt to keep upright. My grip on her hand tightens as I turn, yanking her to me as I help her stay upright. She gasps as our eyes meet, lip caught between her teeth.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” Gripping her hips, I lower my face to hers. “Because you seem out of breath and shaking.” And she was. The second my fingers take hold and pull her against my chest, those striking grey eyes become heavy-lidded. “Be honest. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You’re going to destroy me.”

“And then I’ll put you back together again.” My mouth slants over hers in a quick yet harsh kiss before she can question or rationalize my statement. I taste her desire for me in each moan, in the way she immediately tries to wrap herself around me, but I have more to show her and slow us down to a few soft pecks. Almost. I lay my forehead against hers. “I’ll do everything in my power to always fix us.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t see myself without you in my life.” Solimar’s lips part to respond, but before she can, I put a tiny bit of distance between us. Her hand is in mine, all soft and delicate, and I kiss the palm before moving us toward the final destination and past the wall of trees that separates one plantation from the next. A few steps from where we stand side by side, the pasture opens into two separate crop areas and with a different product in each. To the left are poppies, rows upon rows of my strand of flower—the line I produced after twining three different seedlings from contrasting countries and climates.

It’s why it’s so popular. Stronger than what others grow in my market.

“Thank you for showing me this part of you.” Solimar’s awed voice pulls