Chapter Twenty-Nine-Luc
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE-LUC
I smirk as the first few notes from Poison’s Every Rose Has Its Thorn begin to play across my sound system and I shake my head.
Maria certainly has eclectic taste.
“I love this song!” She shouts from the living room and starts to sing.
Badly.
But I fucking love it.
The final delivery of Maria’s stuff arrived two days ago, and I have to admit, the woman has more shit than I ever imagined.
We’ve been unpacking all day. She’s wearing a pair of shorts that I’d spank her ass for if she tried to leave the house with them, but I have to admit I don’t hate how she looks every time she bends over in them to grab another knick-knack from one of the eight boxes of stuff my guys removed from her apartment.
I grin as I pick up one of the seventeen shot glasses, she has in the box marked kitchen.
This one says Dallas, Texas. There’s one with big glass boobs on it that says Fort Lauderdale. And another with the Statue of Liberty etched into it.
“What?” she asks, grinning as she snatches it out of my hand.
“You, uh, seem to like shot glasses,” I say.
“They’re the cheapest souvenir you can buy when you’re in a new city and they fit perfectly in a carry-on bag.”
She gets quiet then and takes the rest of them out, loading them into the dishwasher.
Something about the memory subdues her, and I curse under my breath and tug on her arm.
This is the side of her I’ve been wanting to know for months.
The Maria I used to watch on my security feed is cocky and arrogant.
Someone might call her wanton or promiscuous when she’s working, teasing customers, and smiling at them. But I know that's always been an act.
A show. Like she is putting on a costume every time she gets behind the bar.
Yeah, I've watched her flirt. It's killed me watching her flirt, but she wasn't mine then.
Not like she is now.
Fine.
I'm a possessive prick.
But I won’t compromise on this.
I don't want her working in the bar anymore. It’s going to be one of my stipulations of our arrangement.
I know we’ve been over it before. But she doesn’t have to worry about money.
Maria can pursue anything she wants to do now. She can go back to school. Start a business.
Anything at all.
Yeah, I’m aware it makes me a dick. I know I shouldn't demand it.
But I can't fucking help myself.
My girl isn't gonna work at the bar. No fucking way.
My jealousy won’t stand for it.
“Hey,” I say, and I pull her to me.
“What?” she murmurs, trying to play it off.
Like I don’t know the shot glass comment got her thinking about some hard times.
Baby Girl has big feelings and I know thinking about those years of running brings up bad memories for her.
I hug her to me. This is the side I’ve been dying to know.
The one where she takes off the mask. The one where she lets me in.
Maria sighs and wraps her arms around my waist, putting her head on my chest.
Fuck.
This woman feels so good in my arms. I can’t believe she’s finally mine.
The idea that some asshole has been hassling her, threatening her, makes me feel fucking feral.
I’ve been digging into Matteo Sanchez. That slimy motherfucker has a certain reputation with women.
He’s, shall we say, unorthodox in his sexual preferences. Degradation and humiliation are how he gets off.
There’ve been rumors of missing women. Pros who get paid to do the fucked up shit their clients want.
Now, it’s not my business how someone gets off or how someone else makes a living. But if those women are dead somewhere because of this vile fuck, then that is just another reason for me to end his sorry existence.
I kiss Maria’s head.
My cock twitches eagerly behind my sweatpants.
She lifts her face.
I know she thinks I am angry over her lying to me, to us, for months. But I’m not. She did what she had to in order to survive.
She’s so fucking brave. So strong. And I’m proud of her.
But I’m not one to give out compliments. Instead, I show her.
I wrap my hand around her throat, and I tilt her head back as I fuse my mouth to hers.
She moans and I swallow it down greedily.
My blood boils. I feel my cock thud against my sweats. It’s already hard as the titanium rods piercing it.
I know Maria likes my jewelry.
She always seems to find a way to touch my piercings be they on my face, my ears, or my dick.
I can’t say I hate it.
In fact, it drives me crazy.
Like now, as I drive my tongue down her throat, her fingers dance over the hoops on both my ears.
She’s fucking perfect.
I hoist her up by the ass, and she wraps her legs around me.
“Luc,” she moans when I let her up for air.
She kisses my cheeks, my neck, my earlobes, licking and sucking on my hoops, driving me out of my fucking mind.
She wiggles her ass. And her shorts do nothing to stop me from feeling her heated pussy pressing against my abdomen.
Shit.
I falter a step, but I won’t fall. I can’t.
I’m holding precious fucking cargo.
We make it to the bedroom and I’m tearing at her clothes.
“Luc, need you,” she arches her back as I free her glorious tits.
“I got you, Baby Girl,” I grunt and follow her onto the bed.
I squeeze her soft flesh, loving how her tits fit perfectly in my hands.
I have pretty big hands with long fingers, and Maria’s breasts fit them perfectly.
I memorize the way her bronze skin looks against my paler, tattooed hand and it turns me on so fucking much. I flex my hips, pressing my covered dick against her weeping slit.
Her arousal is soaking the fabric, and I swear to fucking God, I’m going to come if I keep dry humping her.
I move down, and she moans at the loss.
Grinning, I drop biting kisses along her neck, till I reach her cherry ripe nipples.
Who says you can’t have dessert before dinner?
“Fuck, Maria, you got my pants all wet,” I tell her, standing up and leaving her panting.
“Where are you going?” she asks, and I bite my lip to stop from smiling as I lay down next to her.
“Right here. Now get on your knees, and climb on, Baby Girl.”
She licks her lips and starts to straddle my thighs.
“Nuh uh, up here,” I say and slap my shoulder.
“W-what?”
“Climb on,” I repeat. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
“But I don’t know what?—”
“Get that sweet ass over here, Maria, and ride my fucking face.”