Sinful Pleasure (Sinful #1)

CHAPTER 40

C HAPTER 40

MADDOX

My lips crashed against hers, the taste of her sweat mingling with the raw, desperate hunger consuming me. Every ounce of my remaining strength poured into that kiss—into holding her close, like she was a secret I couldn’t share with anyone.

“Maddox…”

Her voice, so soft yet so seductive, sent a jolt of heat through my entire body. I didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want to stop. Her body pressed against mine, every curve lighting me on fire.

She moaned my name again, louder this time, and I couldn’t hold back. My fingers moved to her, making her gasp, her body trembling as I worked her, pulling her to the edge.

She didn’t last long before she came undone, screaming my name, her nails digging into my skin as her body bucked beneath me. I swallowed her cries with my lips, the sound of her pleasure mingling with my own overwhelming need.

When she finally kissed me one last time, it felt different.

There was a distance in it, a sadness that made my chest tighten.

She pulled away, resting her forehead against mine, her cheeks flushed, but her eyes—her eyes were empty.

“Why did you do this?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You left me.”

My heart dropped, heavy in my chest, sinking into the pit of my stomach. The words cut deeper than I ever thought possible.

I kissed her again, but this time, she didn’t kiss me back.

Her lips cold, distant, and I felt that distance like a punch to the gut.

“Everything is your fault,” she hissed, her nails digging into my skin harder than before, leaving blood in their wake.

Her eyes wet, angry, burning with something I couldn’t understand.

“I’m gone because of you.”

I turned away, my fists pounding against the punching bag in front of me, over and over—until my knuckles were raw, blood dripping from them.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The pain from my bruised hands only made me hit harder.

Every time I closed my eyes, she was there. Haunting me. Torturing me.

I’ve had the same nightmare every damn night since she’s gone.

It ate away at me from the inside—gnawing at the parts of me I didn’t even know were broken.

And now, I couldn’t escape it. Every punch I threw was a desperate attempt to drown out the memory of her, but nothing worked.

She’s right. I was supposed to protect her.

I was her fucking bodyguard—the one who was supposed to put his life on the line to keep her safe—and I fucked it all up.

It’s my fault. And I fucking hate it. None of this would have happened if I was there.

But I wasn’t. And now she’s fucking gone.

We don’t know where they took her. It’s like she vanished off the face of the earth.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of searching with no results.

And I can’t bring myself to stop. It’s pathetic how low I’ve sunk just trying to find her. No one knows the cost—the money, the blood, the hours I’ve spent tracking down every lead.

My team, the best in the world, came up empty-handed.

I can feel my knuckles throbbing with pain, but I don’t stop.

Hit. Hit. Hit .

I’m not even sure what I’m fighting anymore.

The bag, my thoughts or both.

I don’t hear Angelo come up behind me until his voice cuts through the madness. “I think you need some rest.”

I don’t stop punching.

“I’m fine,” I growl, swinging another blow. My blood smears across the bag, streaks of red mingling with sweat. It’s the only thing I feel right now—the pain.

“Your hands are bleeding.”

“Your face will be bleeding if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

There’s a pause.

Angelo clears his throat behind me, and I can feel him standing there still, waiting for me to acknowledge him.

“Lydia woke up,” he says finally, breaking through my haze. “The surgery went well. She’s resting now. She’ll be fine.”

I don’t answer right away. My eyes stay focused on the bloodstains on the bag in front of me, my knuckles raw and torn.

Finally, I nod once, more to myself than to him, and sit down on the bench, wiping sweat from my face with a towel.

My hands are an ugly mess. Blood, bruises, torn skin. It’s not enough. I should have done more.

I should have been there.

“Our father hired new people to track Allyn.’’ He said. ‘’She can’t be that far away.”

“You’re delusional.” My words come out in a low growl. I shake my head. “We won’t find her.”

I’ve been to the best in the business, and I still came up empty. I failed her, and I can’t fucking let that go. The worst part?

I know she’s somewhere where she belongs.

She’s supposed to be there—with them.

But I’m a fucking selfish bastard, and I want her back.

I need her back.

She can’t just come into my life, make me feel things I never thought I would, and then just disappear. Take it all with her. Leave me with this deep, ugly hole inside me.

I hate that I feel weak.

Weakness is poison, and it’s going to fucking destroy me.

For twenty-five years, I lived without feeling anything and I was fine.

I didn’t need it. I didn’t need her.

Why the hell did she have to do this to me?

“I need to get her back,” Angelo says, his voice desperate. I can’t help but chuckle darkly. I shake my head, wiping the sweat from my chest with the towel, standing up from the bench.

“Maybe it’s for the best. They got what they wanted.” I’m lying. I’m trying to convince myself, but it’s a fucking delusion.

“You know now that they have her, the war is just the beginning.”

“This is our father’s problem, not ours.”

If it wasn’t for his stupid orders, my life would’ve never crossed paths with hers. None of this would have happened.

I toss the towel into the bin.

“There is a bright side to this, you know,” I say, glancing at Angelo. “You won’t have to marry her.”

I curl my lip slightly. There’s some twisted relief in that. At least I won’t have to watch him with her for the rest of my miserable life.

“I gave my permission to marry her.”

My jaw clenches. I remember hearing it from our father, but hearing Angelo say it straight to my face—fuck, it feels like a punch.

“Why?” I ask, my voice flat.

He stays silent, his gaze locked on the ground, as if it holds the answer to the sinking feeling in my chest.

“Don’t tell me you fell in love with her.”

Please, for your own fucking good, don’t say you did.

“No, of course not,” he answers too quickly, and a wave of relief washes over me. “But I like her. She’s different.”

Damn right, she is.

The ironic thing? I could say the exact same thing about her.

“You better forget about her,” I snap, pushing the anger down, trying to bury it. “We’ve got other shit to deal with.”

The truth was I need to drop this—to forget her.

“I’ll find her.”

I grind my teeth. His words are like salt in an open wound.

“Don’t expect me to help you with that.”

I turn and leave before he can respond.

Allyn Delgado, or Romano—whatever the hell her last name is—haunts me, no matter how hard I try to push her out of my mind. She’s branded there, like some permanent ink that won’t fade, as if she has any right to be.

Her touch. Her scent. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her fucking smile.

It’s all so fresh, so vivid in my memory, and it’s driving me to the edge of my sanity.

Her absence is going to either heal me or completely fucking destroy me.