3. Chapter 3 - Diego
So. Fucking. Stunning. That anger of hers riles the beast in me. The one impatiently salivating, waiting to get a taste of her. There’s nothing better than watching the heat behind her eyes ignite and those chestnut orbs crackle with invitation.
To keep going.
To keep pushing her.
If it means keeping her distracted from her family emergency, by all means, allow me to take the heat.
Amy places our drinks down before us along with a few pastries. Madison’s eyes widen with excitement seeing her favorite lemon tarts amongst the spread. She plucks two from the tray, popping one in her mouth and placing the other on her plate. Moaning her contentment and making my cock twitch, she washes it down with a healthy sip of her espresso.
“What made you choose this color?” I play with a strand of her curled hair, twirling it around my finger and wishing I could wrap all of it around my wrist. It’s luxuriously soft and dyed the deepest shade of purple. So deep it’s practically black, shimmering with an aura of violet. It certainly suits her. In my eyes, Madison has always been a queen. Adding purple to her hair only enhances that regal look she often pulls off .
Trembling fingers raise her cup as she pulls the straw between her pouty lips, buying herself time to answer me.
Fuck. This woman is perfection.
Her eyes scan mine, those thick lashes fluttering as she looks me over. My little butterfly is completely unaware she’s checking me out again just as I am her. A smile forms on my face and it feels good. Damn good . It’s been too long having this woman out of my sight.
The way we left off was not at all what I had anticipated. I mean honestly? I don't know what I was expecting, but her up and leaving all together wasn’t it. I’ve spent the entire year focusing on ways to make it right.
To her. And my people.
My syndicate needs me—and not the ghost version where my cousin leads the organization. I am ready to step into my role and take my seat back for all to see. Thankfully, I found a way to do so.
We’ve got enough evidence to prove Geraldo was to blame for all the atrocities that were stacked against me. There is a strong possibility that my guy in the Feds can rewrite the details of that night, completely removing the death certificate along with the interviews with my wife and anything else revealing my death. If he can pull that off, we may stand a chance at getting back to the way things should have been. I will publicly resurface and there won’t be any written details of our stay in Greece other than our marriage certificate.
That we can leave.
“I’ve always loved the color…and I needed a change of pace,” Madison finally admits. “Dying my hair makes me feel in control, especially when everything around me becomes chaotic. It’s something I get to choose . A constant if I wish it to be.”
Her eyes stray from mine and she tucks a lock of hair behind her left ear, clearly uncomfortable continuing. That’s when I spot it. The smallest tattoo I’ve ever seen…with such incredible detail. Her artist did a fantastic job with the fine lines.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest as it did when I said I do . My exquisite wife inked herself with a permanent reminder of me.
A delicate blue butterfly adorns her skin right behind her ear.
All this tension building inside of me is poised and ready to reach out and touch her.
Reclaim her .
I strike like a snake, clasping her throat. Forming an O, her mouth pops open and a gasp slips from her lips. My hand slides up the soft skin of her neck, fingers wrapping around her delicate jaw. I tilt her head towards the window, needing to take a closer look at this mariposita . The pad of my thumb skims over the now goosebump-ridden skin of her neck.
Her chest rises and falls against my forearm and her hand has come up to grip my wrist—but she’s made no attempt to remove it.
And I know she can .
Liam helped train her all those months I couldn’t. With that knowledge—and because I just can’t fucking help myself—I lean down and place my lips over the blue ink. A buzz runs across them as she shivers beneath me, inhaling sharply through her nose.
“ Ocean Eyes …” she exhales breathily.
The grasp I have around her jaw tightens as my cock turns hard as steel in my jeans.
I nip at her earlobe, my teeth grazing the soft skin before whispering, “You never stopped being mine, Mariposita . And by inking yourself with a constant reminder of me…it appears I never stopped being yours either.”
Too impatient for a response, I swivel her face back towards me and kiss my sweet girl senseless. She kisses me back with such fervor that I become lost and found in the same moment .
All that exists in this moment is her .
Her soft lips, her tongue dancing with mine, our hands roaming as much surface area of each other as we can get.
I drag her on top of me so that she straddles me, my erection pressing firmly into the sweet spot between her legs. Heat radiates beneath her thin black leggings, siphoning a growl out of me.
Fuck. I need her.
Desperate hands find the back of her head, my fingers clenching the curled purple strands at the scalp. With a yelp, she inhales against my lips and grinds down harder on my pulsing cock pressing at her core.
These goddamn leggings need to be gone. Now. Where’s my knife? Shall I remind her of the last time I stripped her leggings off her?
“I need to be inside you, baby.” I nip at her tattoo, eliciting another delicious moan from her.
Poor Amy. She’s too sweet of a woman to witness the reunion I have planned with my wife—otherwise, I would have just taken Madison’s tight cunt right here and now.
I stand, cupping my hands around her delectable round ass. She wraps her arms and legs around me, continuing to kiss me as I walk us to the bedroom at the back of the cabin. Blindly reaching for the handle, I grasp it, shuffling us inside before slamming the door shut with my wife’s back against it. Releasing my hold on her, I let her slowly slide down my chest and over my painfully hard erection. When her feet land gently on the floor, she places her palms flat against my chest, steadying herself.
Her chest rises and falls with anticipation.
Those gorgeous eyes have grown wide, even her pupils have dilated with lust. Loose curls cascade around her, framing her heart-shaped face. The tip of her tongue darts out to lick her swollen lips as her eyebrows scrunch together.
No… no… I know that look .
Don’t overthink this, Madison.
It’s not just the physical act of sex that I need . That I crave . I am an extremely sexual creature— that won’t ever change . Sex has always been just that— sex . A way to tame my needs. But I have done that countless times with faceless others.
What I crave right now is Madison . There has been a void inside of me that only she can fill. She was the only one I have been with who sees me for me. Not El Rompe Huesos . Not the son of the ruthless Basilio or the heartless fuckboy.
Me. Diego De La Cruz.
The man who isn’t this monster everyone makes him out to be.
Well, not to the innocent, that is.
My fingers itch with the desire to feel her skin against mine, to hear her breathy little moans as I kiss every precious inch of her body. I want to feel her heart gallop wildly as I slide into her and spend the rest of this flight worshiping her.
Stepping a few inches back, I reach between my shoulder blades and pull my t-shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. She doesn’t skip a beat before she’s back in my space, skating her fingers over the tattoo I got last year.
The pad of her index finger traces over my chest and the black ink etched into my skin. My artist created the visual of exposed bones, showcasing my ribcage and sternum. The artwork portrays where my heart would be.
Except, there, underneath the cage of ribs, sits a blue and black butterfly.
I grab her hand and hold it over my heart. “The only cage you belong in, Mariposita , is the one right here beneath my ribs. You are the other half of my soul and the organ that’s been missing all my life. A beacon of light breaking through my darkness. The gentle and delicate beauty that compliments my twisted nature. You, sweet girl, have given me the freedom I never knew I would have. No longer am I a prisoner to my line of work, to my father or my uncle, or their followers. You broke the chains of my dark reputation and encouraged understanding and compassion to the people under my syndicate’s protection.”
Two lone tears roll down the apples of her pink cheeks. I swipe them away with my thumbs and cup her face, tilting it to greet her glossy eyes.
“I love you, Madison De La Cruz. I was wrong for not telling you about my fake death. I did it for you. For us. But I was an idiot. You can handle anything, and although I knew that, I still tried to shield you from any repercussions of my past. Of who I am. That is a regret I'll have for the rest of my life. Because it took you from me and ended up pushing you right back into Liam’s arms.”
“Diego…I made my choice…” I stop her, gently placing a finger to her lush lips.
“Regardless of whether you actively chose to stay away from us—we both knew eventually you would come back. Your best friend is marrying his best friend. You were coming back into this life one way or another. Just a lot sooner than you may have anticipated. Which is why I am begging you to give me another chance. Before you hop back on the Liam train. Give me a chance to be your husband. If at the end of the day you choose him, I’ll get our marriage certificate erased from existence too. That tattoo can be a reminder of your resilience and strength,” I sigh, tapping the space behind her ear twice. “A reminder that you are and always will be a queen.”