27. Eve
27
EVE
“ H oly crap, do you know this guy, Evie?”
Anna sounds shocked in a not-so-flattering way, but it’s like I’m hearing her from inside a bubble. There’s only me and him in this club now. Everyone else has faded from view. He’s standing right behind me. His crotch is so close to my ass I can feel the outline of his erection, and it’s sending my body into overdrive.
“Sebastian Días,” he announces, extending his hand to Anna, and deliberately brushing against the side of my breast as he does.
I jump as if branded, like this brief, physical connection with him has seared my skin. Glancing down, I see the thick forearm with the olive skin and the light dusting of black hair—so familiar, so desired. I’m filled with a compulsion to grab hold of it and push it downward to the place I’m craving him the most, just like that time in Africa. To feel those rough fingers fucking me, over and over, again.
“Anna Williams. So, err how do you two know each other?” She jerks her hand away from him and shoots me the mother of all WTF looks.
“We met a while back,” says Dante vaguely, as if I was nothing more than a passing flirtation during a tedious board meeting. “Manuel, why don’t you take Miss Williams up on her offer to dance. I’d be more than happy to stay with Eve.”
Manuel nods. “Of course, Se?or Días… Anna?”
But Anna doesn’t budge. She keeps looking at me for guidance. She’s unsure if she should leave me alone with this dark and dangerous creature.
“How do you know Manuel?” she asks suspiciously.
“We grew up in the same town in Colombia,” replies Dante, without missing a beat.
“It’s okay, Anna,” I say, forcing another smile for her. “You go ahead. Sebastian can walk me to a cab.”
“Only if you’re sure…” She shoots another worried glance in Dante’s direction.
“I am. Go… Have fun,” I urge her, sliding my gaze to Manuel. There are too many loaded looks happening around here.
He gets the gist right away. “Come,” he says, taking my friend’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for this dance all evening.”
This seals the deal with her super-quick. And then, there’s just us. Alone again. With my pulse rate climbing to crazy levels and nervous sweat trickling between my shoulder blades.
“Aren’t you going to look at me, my angel?” he murmurs. “Aren’t you going to give me the benefit of that divine face?” I turn slowly to his sharp intake of breath. “There she is…” He tips my chin up to stab me a million times over with those unforgiving dark eyes. “The light to all my wicked and sin.”
There’s a hint of mockery in his voice, and an inherent truth there, too. He clearly wants to revel in our disparities tonight, and a shiver of uneasiness courses through me.
He’s even more mesmeric than I remembered. The bruises are gone, and there’s a fading scar on his forehead where the red weal used to be. He’s wearing a black three-piece with a crisp white dress shirt and a black tie that’s been loosened at the neck.
I can’t tear my eyes away from his broad shoulders and tapered waist, and the long muscular length of his thighs. I’ve never seen him dressed in anything other than jeans or his army gear but, my God, this man was born to wear a suit.
He smells fresh and clean, like he’s recently taken a shower, but there’s another scent lingering on his skin and it’s one I can’t place.
I watch his eye line drop to my outfit and a slight frown appears. “Come,” he snaps, taking my arm and leading me toward the exit. “Let’s find somewhere more discreet, shall we?”
He’s commanding everyone’s attention as we leave the club, which only serves to highlight our disparities more. Tall and elegant, his walk is a compelling swagger of power and ownership. He’s a king in this world, and I’m barely a footnote.
He steers me toward an idling SUV with blacked-out windows. I recognize it immediately.
“Is that—”
“Yes.”
It’s the same car from the night we first met. The same night he took me, bound my body to his for eternity, and then walked away.
I remember my fear when he forced me onto the backseat, how his fingers felt around my neck, the first pangs of lust as he loomed large and threatening over me… He opens the door, and this time I go willingly.
“Hello again, Miss Miller,” mutters Joseph from the driver’s seat.
“Less talking, more driving,” Dante snaps, sliding in next to me. “I spoke with Sanders. The deal is on.”
What deal?
I know better than to ask. He’s got that primal ‘fresh from the kill’ look about him again, and he’s giving off warning signals in all directions.
He turns to scowl at me as I dare to inch away, but there’s no move to yank me back to his side. After six weeks apart, I’m desperate to taste his dark, but I’m too scared to initiate it. Whatever he’s brooding on is pushing him beyond the limits of his control. If I touch him, I know he’ll hurt me.
The car pulls away from the curb. He’s gazing out of the window, his elbow resting on the lip of the door, his chin slotted between his forefinger and his thumb. There’s a fist clenched in his lap. What the hell is going on?
The edgy silence persists, peppered only by the whirr of the engine and the swipe of the wiper blades as a light summer shower mottles the glass.
We pull up to a gated mansion near the waterfront. As we exit the vehicle, he plants a hand on my lower back and practically shoves me up the front steps and into the property. There are at least twenty armed men stationed around the house and Joseph, like always, is following us in silent pursuit. He peels off once we’re inside and disappears through an open door to the left.
“Get upstairs,” Dante snaps, barely looking at me as I stand there shivering in his hallway. The lack of furniture and the empty walls are reflecting his present mood. Nothing in here is offering me any warmth.
I watch him walk through an archway and into the adjacent living area.
“I don’t ask twice, Eve.” His threat floats out to me from the darkness.
“And I don’t jump to your every goddamn command,” I say, storming into the room after him. The furniture in here is practically non-existent. My angry voice reverberates around the huge empty space, sounding weaker and more fragile with every passing echo.
He turns to face me, and I instantly regret my words. His dark eyes are devoid of emotion. His face is an unnerving mask of calm. “If you insist on wearing outfits like that, I’ll treat you with what little respect you deserve,” he says coldly.
My skyscraper heels skid to a halt.
“How dare you!” I gasp out, heat flaring in my veins. “We’re not in your fortress now, Dante. You don’t get to dress me up in pretty white clothes like your angelic little fuck doll anymore.”
Glaring at me, he crosses the room to a mini bar and chugs out a massive bourbon for himself. “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do,” he says, downing his glass and slamming it back down on the counter. “And when the hell did you start drinking alcohol again? ”
“It’s none of your business! Screw you and your controlling bullshit!”
He comes for me then, dark and cruel, and utterly addictive.
“Take it off.”
I stare at him in shock.
“Take off that fucking dress, Eve, or so help me God, I’ll rip it from your body myself.”
His words are like liquid fire to my core. I stagger away from him so he can’t see my naked lust, so he can’t exploit what he does to me.
“Apologize first,” I say, scrabbling to compose myself as sordid images keep invading my mind. I want every single glorious inch of him on me and in me.
He’s barely ten meters away and closing in fast.
“I never apologize to anyone, mi alma. You know that.”
“You did in Africa. Do it again, or I’m walking out of this mansion, and I’m not coming back.”
He grinds to a halt and stares at me as if he can’t believe I’ve got the balls to speak to him like this. “Don’t make your punishment any worse than it already is, Eve.”
Other women would be terrified by this threat, but I’m not like other women.
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” I whisper, watching in dark delight as his gaze drops to devour me whole. My defiance does things to this man that no one else can.
“Okay then, I apologize,” he says softly, taking another step toward me. “I apologize for demeaning you. I apologize for leaving you for six weeks without my dick to satisfy you. I apologize for leaving your skin and your fuckable tits so bereft of my touch. I apologize for leaving you without my cum dripping between your legs…” He prowls to a stop right in front of me and runs a leisurely finger down the length of my arm. “But most of all, my angel, I apologize for the way I’m going to bend you over this couch here and fuck you until you scream.”
He lunges for me, our mouths colliding in mutual lust and frustration before he’s fisting my hair and I’m grabbing his rock-solid bicep to steady myself. No man in the world kisses like Dante Santiago. By some wicked devilry, he can affect every part of my body with a touch of those talented lips.
I’m tearing at the front of his trousers now like a woman possessed.
“Did you miss me?” he snarls, breaking away to help me out. Ripping at his belt so hard, he breaks the buckle.
“I didn’t miss you being such a control-freak.”
“But you missed my dick?”
“Every damn day!”
“You’re mine, mi alma . Don’t ever forget it.”
With his belt and zipper undone, he spins me around, wrenches my dress up and bends me over. He’s rough with his touch, and I grunt in surprise as the back of the couch bites into my lower stomach. He doesn’t bother to remove my panties any further than a few inches down my thighs before he’s kicking my legs open and positioning himself.
“Shit!” I scream as he drives all the way into my body, splitting me in half. I’d forgotten how big he is. I’m wet, but I’m still struggling to breathe through the pain.
“Take it all,” he orders harshly, bottoming out inside of me. “I want your tight cunt gripping every inch of me.”
“Yes, oh yes,” I whimper, pushing back on him, despite the discomfort. Accepting everything he has to offer.
“Hold tight, my angel. Here comes your punishment.”
He withdraws a fraction only to surge forward again. This new assault is just as deep and violent as the last. Giving me no time to catch my breath, he fucks me like this, hard and fast, pinioning me against the couch, his hands clamped to my hips, forcing me to submit to him. There’s no more dirty talk, no preamble, just an overriding urge to claim back what is his.
My lungs are on fire. Each new thrust is ripping the air clean from them. “Dante!” I scream again, as waves of pleasure engulf my body.
My tears of relief smear across my face as he continues to drive into me. My inner muscles are still rippling from the aftereffects of my second orgasm when he tenses with a groan. I feel his cock jerking inside of me, and then he’s pulling out and spinning me around, his cum still pumping from his body. Yanking my legs even further apart, he drops to his knees to feast on my sex, closing his lips around my still-sensitive clit and drawing hard.
“Oh God…oh fuck!”
I’m coming for a third time, crying out and grinding myself into his mouth to intensify my pleasure. Afterward, I slump forward and wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in his sweat and vitality. He slides to the floor and pulls me down with him, cradling my throbbing body in his arms as we race to catch our breath together.
“I missed you,” I hear him say. “Dreams were like torture. You were so present, so vivid, but when morning came it was like you’d been torn from my arms again.”
“Then why avoid me tonight?” I say, nuzzling in closer .
“It’s complicated.”
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
His arms convulse around my shoulders. “ Never question my affection for you. I meant to leave, but I couldn’t get past the damn exit knowing you were there. I had to see you. I had to taste you. Six weeks is an eternity to be parted from you.” He presses his lips to my temple and my body shudders.
“That man in the club… Rick Sanders. He said Emilio was still alive.”
“He won’t get to you. I won’t let him. I have my army back. He gambled everything and lost. I’ve doubled your security in recent weeks. Half the men in Sanders’ club tonight were mine.”
He sounds so confident, so sure of his methods to keep me safe. As a result, I feel a gossamer-thin veil of relief drifting over me. I’m secure. I’m back in his arms. There’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.
“You said you’d come for me, and here you are,” I whisper.
“I always keep my promises to you.”
“Are you staying in Miami for a while?”
I feel him shake his head. “I can only fly under the radar of the authorities for so long. My business here is done. We travel to Colombia tomorrow night to resume the hunt for my brother.”
The edges of our future start blurring again.
“One day at a time, mi alma ,” he says with a sigh, sensing my despair.
“But it’ll be another day without you.” I shift position to clamber astride him, taking his face in my hands and marveling at the strength beneath my fingertips. “Now that you’ve returned to me, I never want to let you go.”
“Always hunting. Always the hunted. It’s my penance for a life without morality, Eve.”
I stare at him in silence. I have to trust in the light that I’ve sensed in him. I have to believe that my betrayal of my brother’s memory will count for something.
“You can’t fix me, Eve,” he says, reading my mind again. “You can never undo the things I’ve done.”
“You were a good man once. I have to at least try…”
He scoffs and shakes his head, but I sense a part of him is desperately seeking validation in what I’ve said.
“Hey, don’t overthink us so much,” I tease gently, echoing his own words back to him as I run my fingers through his hair.
He closes his eyes briefly before bucking his hips and pitching me forward into his chest. “Smart ass,” he growls, and I feel his arms tightening around me.
“So, you’re wicked and depraved, and you have really, really bad interior design skills.” I glance around the room. “I bet you only screwed me over the couch ‘cos you forgot to buy a bed.”
“Oh, there’s a bed, my angel,” he says, his voice husky with lust. “You’ll find out about that later.”
“Why later? Why not now?”
He lifts his eyebrows at me. “Insatiable, are we?”
“Insatiable for you only, Se?or Santiago .”
He crashes his lips against mine in a kiss so passionate it draws tears to my eyes. “When Emilio is dead, mi alma , I will buy you a thousand mansions to decorate to your heart’s desire.”
“Don’t say that,” I whisper. “That’s the one condition of us, Dante—we never discuss the future. It’s too ambiguous. We have no way of knowing what it holds in store.”
“Can a man not dream? Or am I too far gone for that?”
Only time will tell, my devil.
“Do you really hate my dress?”
His expression darkens. “Yes.” And before I can stop him, he’s dragged the zipper down and ripped it over my head. “There, much better. And don’t change the subject.”
I glance down at my bare breasts. My skin is still glistening with beads of sweat. “Fine,” I say with a shrug, “I’ll just wear panties and high heels next time I go clubbing.”
A low hiss escapes his lips as he slides his palms underneath my ass and rises to his feet, lifting me with him. He throws me onto the couch and stands there looking down at me as he refastens his zipper. “You can’t be trusted with your clothing choices anymore. From tomorrow, you’ll wear exactly what I tell you to.”
“Never,” I say with a grin, unhooking my black stilettos and chucking them at him one at a time.
He ducks easily. “Is that another flash of defiance, my angel?”
“It depends. Are we alone?”
“Of course. If any man so much as dares come through that door…” I watch his face contort with fury at the thought of someone other than him seeing me naked. “Now, back to your insubordination. Would you prefer your next punishment here or upstairs?”
“Both sound fun, but you’ll have to catch me first.” Laughing, I push off from the couch and sprint for the hallway, catching him off guard. He tries to grab my arm as I pass, but I swerve out of the way just in time.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“To seek out this mythical bed of yours!”
I take the white marble steps, two, three at a time, slapping my hands across my naked breasts to stop them bouncing about all over the place. I almost make it to the top when a strong arm is sliding around my waist and lifting me high up into the air.
“I see your shoulder is better,” I say breathlessly, as he folds me into his embrace and carries me like this to his bedroom.
“No thanks to you,” he drawls, dropping me onto an enormous king-sized bed. He arches his eyebrows at me as if to say, ‘See? I wasn’t lying.’
Rising to my knees, I hook my thumbs seductively into the waistband of my panties. “Tell me what you desire most tonight, Se?or Santiago .”
“All of you.” He’s ripping off his waistcoat and tie and shredding buttons in his haste to undress. “Your tits, your pussy, your ass… I’m demanding everything, and you will give it to me.”
I pause my striptease to rake my eyes across his torso. Tonight, he’s part-devil, part-deity, from his muscular shoulders down to the crude definition rippling across his abdomen. I want to run my tongue over every dip, arc, and scar.
He catches me staring. “Do you like what you see?”
“I hate to think how much work you put in to have a body like that.”
He smirks and lowers his trousers. No underwear. Hard as stone. Hard just for me. “Take off your panties real slow for me, mi alma ,” he orders huskily, moving closer to the bed. “ Tease me good, and I’ll reward you well.”
I do as I’m instructed, delighting in the growing hunger in his face as I slide the scrap of black lace further down my legs before tossing it in his direction.
He beckons me closer with his finger. “It would appear that my angel has a devil inside her after all.”
“Sooner rather than later, I hope.”
He laughs.
I’m mesmerized.
“Hold out your hands.” He binds my wrists with my discarded panties and pulls the knot tight. “Which version of me would you like this evening?” he croons, trailing a slow-moving digit down the center of my body, and through my soft folds before driving it deep inside me. “The devil or the monster?”
“Neither,” I pant, tipping my head back and widening my thighs to accept more of him. “Tonight, I just want you.”