Chapter 29 #2
"She can handle it. She told me so earlier," I say, and tilt my head back as the blonde kisses a wet line up my jaw. "Didn't you, Datura?"
She gives me a look that could kill but she doesn't say a word.
For the next hour, it's open warfare. I let the girl hang off me, feed me shots, paw at my shirt. Eventually, she drops to her knees between my legs and I let her. I’m hard as a fucking rock, but not from the blonde.
It’s from the angry and possessive look my little Datura is doing her best to hide.
The blonde rubs the front of my pants and looks up at me but I watch Liana's face instead. She's red and furious. She looks like she might cry, or kill me, or both. And I love every second of it. If it means she will show me some sort of emotion, I’ll gladly let the whore in front of me suck me off and I’ll pretend it’s Liana when I come down her throat.
Liana stands abruptly, knocking one of the drinks off the table, and storms out of the booth. Leo glances at me, question in his eyes.
"You want me to follow her?" he asks.
I shake my head.
"Security will keep an eye on her."
‘Let her stew on the fact that some blonde could be blowing me right now instead of her,’ I think smugly.
But my own pulse is racing as I watch her make her way to the bar.
A man I’ve never seen before slides up next to her and says something.
He’s wearing some stupid shorts with his socks pulled up way too high.
I’m not even sure how he got in with the club’s dress code.
That’s not what irritates me the most though.
No, it's the fact that she’s smiling at him.
Fucking smiling with those dazzling white teeth.
She looks over her shoulder, sees me watching, and leans in closer to the man, putting her hand on his arm like they're old friends.
I can't fucking believe it. Is she actually trying to make me jealous? It's so transparent I want to laugh. I watch her with a blank expression before looking down at the blonde who’s still palming the front of my pants. Liana can’t see her but I smirk anyways because I know she can see that.
I want to see how far Liana will go. They talk for a minute.
The man says something that makes her laugh.
He buys her a drink. She takes it, then sips and looks over his shoulder at me.
The blonde chooses that moment to press her mouth against the front of my pants and blow her hot breath right against my dick.
“Fuck,” I groan out, pulling her face closer to my crotch as I close my eyes and lean my head back.
I shouldn’t be doing this, I know that. A better man would go grovel for his wife’s forgiveness.
I’m not a better man, though. I’m a cartel prince and I don’t grovel for anyone.
I open my eyes, fully prepared to whip my cock out and bury it inside this girl’s mouth when I notice Liana is no longer at the bar.
My phone buzzes right at that moment and I answer it. It’s security, checking in.
"Sir," the voice says, "your wife just left the bar with a male guest. They're heading down the sidewalk."
My body goes cold. I move fast, shoving the blonde away and not even bothering to say goodbye to my brothers. By the time I reach the entrance, they're both gone. The bouncer points down the block but I don’t see her anywhere. He looks just as confused as me.
“I swear they were just standing there, Rio.”
My skin crawls as I race down the sidewalk.
Liana is reckless, but not stupid. What is she doing?
I hear a muffled cry as I pass by an alley and sprint down it, coming upon a car parked behind the dumpsters.
I’m there just in time to see the man above Liana inside the backseat of a car, his hand locked over her mouth.
She’s struggling against him but he’s twice her size.
I rip him off of her and throw him to the ground before peering inside the vehicle to see Liana crying, her dress pushed up and her panties ripped as she attempts to straighten herself.
I look back at the man as he stands. His pants aren’t undone, but his fingers look glazed. He touched my wife.
I see red.
The man barely has time to react. I hit him so hard his teeth clack together with a noise like a breaking stick.
He reels, stumbles, and before he can get his feet under him again, I grab him by the hair and slam his face into the side of the car.
Bone cracks and there's blood everywhere, but it isn't enough.
I want him to choke on it. He whimpers, tries to claw at me, but I'm already on top of him, driving my knee into his ribs until I hear the crack.
He gasps and I haul him up by the collar, shove him against the brick, punching him again, and again, and again, until my knuckles sting and the skin splits.
Finally, he goes limp and I let him drop, his blood pooling at my feet. I stand over him, looking at the mess but he doesn’t move.
He touched my wife.
I feel a touch on my arm, jolting me and causing me to spin around. My body is expecting another threat, but it's just Liana. She's trembling and her face is white as a ghost.
"Are you okay?" I demand, voice raw.
She doesn't answer me. She looks at my hands, at the man on the ground, then back at me again. Her eyes are wide and scared. I reach for her, but she flinches back so hard she almost falls.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I say, desperate now. "I would never hurt you, Datura."
"You already did."
The words hit harder than I thought they would because I know she’s right.
She doesn’t mean now, she’s talking about before.
I just nod, because what the fuck else can I do?
I can’t take back what I did to her. I'm not just the man she fell for. I’m certainly not the romance book fantasy she thought she was getting.
Rio is still a monster even if Frankie is somewhere inside him.
I take off my jacket, wrap it around her shoulders, and pull her in.
She doesn’t resist this time but she’s still shaking.
I can feel the way her pulse hammers under her skin.
She's not just afraid of what happened. She's afraid of me.
I guide her out of the alley and towards the club where my SUV awaits us out front.
Neither of us says a word the entire drive home.
It’s after one in the morning when we pull up to the house and Pita is already at the front door holding it open.
I shake my head at her when she goes to speak and she nods in understanding as I walk with Liana to our room.
I don’t even bother with the lights when we get inside.
Instead I gesture for her to sit on the bed while I kneel at her feet and pull off her heels.
I help her out of her dress before pulling one of my t-shirts out of a drawer and slipping it over her head.
She still doesn't speak as she lays down and I pull the covers up over her.
When I attempt to get up, she grabs my wrist, hard.
"Don't leave," she whispers.
So I don't. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her until her breathing finally slows. When I'm sure she's asleep, I stand and walk out, shutting the bedroom door behind me and heading straight for the gym.
I need something to take the edge off. I didn’t kill that man but he was barely breathing when we left.
My brother texted me to tell me so. He should be dead but it’s probably better he isn’t.
They’ll send him to my sister and she will take care of it.
My eyes scan the gym and settle on my punching bag.
‘A decent distraction,’ I think as I land hit after hit.
I'm shaking when I finally stop. My hand drips blood onto the mat and I watch as it spills.
Leaning against the wall I remember the look on her face.
She was afraid of me, that much I knew. But she wanted me before that.
She was jealous when that girl touched me in the club.
I squeeze my eyes shut and let the image of her take over.
The way her mouth dropped open in surprise and anger.
The way her eyes flashed with jealousy. How pouty her lips were.
My cock is hard and I’m not even surprised.
I shove down my pants and wrap my bloody hand around myself, stroking hard and fast. The blood provides the perfect lubricant as my hand glides up and down my shaft.
I picture her on her knees, lips red and swollen, looking up at me with tears on her cheeks and spit on her chin.
I picture her on our bed, legs spread wide, begging me to fuck her and hating herself for wanting it.
I imagine myself pushing between her thighs into her wet heat and look down to see my bloody cock in my hand.
I groan as I remember stealing her innocence, the sight of her virgin blood, sending a thrill through my body.
I don't last long, not with that image. I explode violently and watch as jets of cum and blood spill onto the floor at my feet.
I stay like that for a minute, my head spinning as I come down from the high I created.
Then I clean up, wrap my hands, and drag myself back upstairs.
She's still asleep when I slip into bed beside her, but I can tell from the furrow in her brow and the tight clutch of her fists that she isn't dreaming sweetly.
I reach over, brush a strand of hair from her face, and whisper, "I'm sorry."
She doesn't answer and maybe she never will.