Chapter Forty-Five #3
“You are so fucking hot,” I purr as he liquifies into me. “No one has ever been as detrimentally sexy as you.
“Angel… Jesus… What the fuck…” He gasps, voice fully spent as he snorts.
I giggle, and he shakes with tired laughter.
“There’s no way you’re not pregnant,” I whisper in his ear.
He cackles. “If not, we can keep trying.” He leans back, shooting me a look over his shoulder. “Breed me as much as you want, pajarito. ‘Cause that was fucking euphoric.”
“Mmm… there’s nothing quite like shooting deep in this perfect ass.” I pat him on the cheek, and he clenches.
Then growls. “I want you in me forever, Angelito…”
Well, fuck me, that sounds good.
We stay like this for a while, until it becomes clear that we’re too insatiable for such things.
Pulling out of him is too hot, and our writhing together turns to more naughty behavior.
Next thing I know, his fingers are in me and he’s licking me until I’m shooting more painful throbs into his mouth.
I’m not even sure how we ended up this way, but we’re curled up on the floor. My head is on his chest and I’m dozing while he smokes a cigar. The smell is like a fiery comfort to some vast region of my unconscious mind.
With his fingers treasuring my flesh, I whisper a plea, “Quédate conmigo…” He curls his neck to look down at me, brushing his thumb over my pout. “Stay with me, baby.”
“I want to,” he says softly. Sincere.
An almost innocence to his expression and his tone. It reminds me of how different he is in moments like these. I wish he was always like this.
It’d certainly be easier to navigate.
“Then just do it,” I hum, squeezing onto him. “You make the rules, right?”
When he doesn’t answer right away, I peek at him.
“I’m not so sure anymore…” He swallows visibly.
He takes a puff of the cigar, a faraway gaze about him.
“Well, I think you should stay.” I sit up. “I’m tired. And you can barely keep your eyes open.”
His lips twitch. But he mumbles, “I should get back. I have to wake up early… There’s a lot of bullshit going on right now.”
Oh, Jesus… Not this again.
“Yea, but not right now,” I argue. “Right now, everyone’s asleep.”
“This job never rests, pajarito,” he grunts, stubbing his cigar out in some pooled water at the edge of the tub.
I roll my eyes. “That’s such a bullshit excuse. Just say you don’t want to spend the night, Diablo. I can’t handle it… I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one,” he grumbles.
I gasp, outraged at the audacity of this beautiful asshole.
Standing up quick, I hustle into my clothes while he does the same, at more of an unhurried pace.
Because it’s his world and we’re all just breathing his goddamn oxygen.
“You know, I thought we’d moved past this,” I bark. “After I forgave you, when I probably shouldn’t have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He huffs.
“You know damn well what it means, Diablo,” I snap. “You’re a fucking monster, but you’re not stupid.”
“Angelito, por favor.” He does that thing where he rubs his eyes as if he’s exasperated by me. Gaslighting 101. “We’re both tired. Let’s just talk about it tomorrow, si? I have to wake up early and deal with the complete and utter shitstorm that is my life.”
“I’m just sick of being the one who compromises,” I hiss. “I’m sick of giving you the benefit of the doubt and then regretting it. I’m sick of hating myself for not being able to kill you when I totally should, since you are the worst excuse for a fuck-buddy ever invented!”
His face whips in my direction. “What did you just say?”
Uh oh…
Swallowing hard, I debate whether I should backtrack or stick to my guns. I settle on a combination of the two.
“Well, what would you call us?” I mutter. “You won’t even spend the night… If that’s not indicative of a casual hook-up, then I don’t know what is.”
“Angel, I am not leaving because I don’t care about you enough to stay,” he growls.
“Then why are you??”
“Because I have to!” He stomps up to my face.
“That’s bullshit,” I seethe, not backing down. Getting in his face right back. “You are treating me like a fucktoy, Ivory. And if you want me to think differently, maybe let me out of this fucking cage.”
His black eyes are narrowed to slits, the wrath in them purely sinister. “You don’t deserve to be let out of this cage yet.”
I scoff of disbelief gusts from my lips. “Excuse me?? What does that even mean?”
I’m expecting one of his standard growly responses about how I belong to him, and he’s in charge. But that’s not what I get.
“You know, I became aware of the intruder a while back,” he hums, deathly quiet.
“There was much going on at the time… Really, this island has been crumbling since long before the storm. I was distracted by cartel business, prison business, guard dog… problems.” He snarls out that last bit, and I gulp, thinking about Velle.
“I was too busy searching for you… And you were right here all along. Distracting me from getting to you.”
He huffs, an unamused sound of amusement, shaking his head.
“I eventually remembered,” the bite is back in his tone. “The girl I’d seen lurking. I saw the footage…”
My spine stiffens. Fast. As I’ve been zapped with realization.
Oh… fuck.
Here we go…
He steps forward, into me. I back up.
“The bad girl… misbehaving all over my island.” His dark gaze has narrowed into slits.
“Of course, I didn’t know it was you at the time.
If I had, well… We might not even be standing here right now.
” I gulp, backing up as he advances toward me.
“I might have very well burned this whole goddamn place to the ground myself.”
My pulse is racing, palms sweating.
Shit…
Fuck fuck fuck, this isn’t good.
“D-diablo…” I stammer.
“All the things she was doing…” He pauses to gulp, and my forehead lines. “The people she was doing… were really being done by you.”
He finishes the accusation I knew was coming, and now I’m highly concerned.
He has the potential to kill me over this. He’s that possessive.
It doesn’t make sene, but I guess when you’re Manuel Blanco, things don’t have to make sense. Especially where your little bird is concerned.
“Diablo, por favor.” I shake my head. “Just hear me out—”
He backs me up into the bars, and I jump.
“Mi pajarito! It was you, Angel!” In a flash, his volume raises until he’s shouting in my face.
And it doesn’t go back down. “You were on your knees?! Face down, ass up, getting railed by strangers! That’s what you were doing here?
?” He looks and sounds like he’s hanging on by a thread.
“Angelito came here to play the part of a desperate little whore, to, what? Push my buttons?? Estás en serio?!”
“I… n-no, I…” My words aren’t coming out. I’m too afraid. He has me backed into a wall, literally, and I can feel him shaking like he’s about to rage out of his skin.
“That’s insane, pajarito. Fucking loca,” he grunts, grabbing the bars by my head. “Tú padre se avergonzaría.”
Your father would be ashamed.
That snaps me out of it.
Hearing him referencing my father lights the fuse. All of my fear dissipates, and my vision swims with the deepest red I’ve ever seen.
“My father would be ashamed?” I hiss, deadly quiet as I growl, “What about yours?”
His eyes widen, lips falling agape. I almost grin.
Yea, Didn’t expect that, did you asshole?
“What did you just say to me?” He snarls.
“I’ve been at this a long time, Marfil,” I murmur, riding the high of sudden confidence. “I learned a lot over the years… Like who your uncle was. And who your parents were.”
“Cállate la boca, pajarito…” He seethes, a low rumble under his breath. “Or I swear to God…”
“You knew my father didn’t have your parents killed,” I ignore his threat and keep pushing.
“You knew your uncle was responsible for their deaths. But you played the part, didn’t you?
You chose to set up both your uncle and my father in one shot…
Dos pájaros, uno piedra. So that you could win.
So that you could be the king of the castle. ”
I’m heaving, and he’s just staring, gaping at me with a wideness to his eyes I’ve never seen before. His hands fall away from the bars.
“It’s what you always wanted. So you stole it…
” I go on, the anger breeding sudden sorrow in my chest. “Except that it wasn’t enough for you, was it?
You also had to kill my mother… And steal my sister.
That is what you did, Marfil. That is how you brought shame upon your father.
But I am not going to be the last territory for you to conquer if you won’t even admit that this is more than just possession. I won’t let you.”
He looks like he’s balancing on the tightrope of his sanity, somewhere between blinding rage and a profound exhaustion. Like his soul can barely keep its eyes open. I feel bad, but then I don’t. Part of me has this persistent desire to comfort him, tend to him, and be his tourniquet.
But I’m sick of him treating me like a trophy. Something he won the rights to when he killed my parents. Maybe his objectifying is hot in abstract terms, but the reality of it is insulting. Not to mention it’s getting old.
“Angel…” He steps up to me and takes my chin. “Mírame. Do I come across as someone who doesn’t understand how fucked up he is?” I blink at his face. “Do I seem like the kind of twisted hijo de puta who has misconceptions about the things he’s done?”
I’m not sure what we’re talking about anymore. I guess this is what we do…
We fuck, then fight, then sweet talk each other, hug and kiss, then it’s right back to fighting and fucking some more. Whatever we’re doing, I think we can both agree it’s completely insane.
“No,” I grumble. “You look like the most infuriating human being on the planet.”
He squints at me, mouth set in a line that I can tell is trying so hard not to smirk. “Right. And what would you suggest I do to fix that, pajarito?”
I’m quiet for a moment, just glaring at him while he glares at me, both of our chests jumping.