Chapter 17 #2
We make it to our bedroom, where I hold her close every night. Waking up to someone I care about is still foreign. It feels like I’m someone else sometimes. Not this fucked-up monster I became. Someone unworthy of her. Someone she’s bound to reject.
Raquel will always be out of my league. Her beauty will always rival my savagery. But every savage needs a gentle queen to keep him from falling deeper into the darkness.
Lowering her down my body, I cradle her in my arms, our gazes fused in unspoken promises of tomorrow. Every fiber of my intense feelings for a woman I was never allowed to have spills from my eyes.
“These days with you have been the best days I’ve had in a long time,” I whisper. “Too long.”
“Me too,” she says on a sigh, her voice as muted as mine, like anything louder would destroy this moment. “I…I don’t know how to leave you, Dante.”
I growl in frustration, quickly lowering my mouth to hers and kissing her hungrily, ending those thoughts where we’re no longer together. I need her to forget, and this is the only way I know how.
Her hands brush up the back of my head, her nails pressing and pushing her mouth into mine. We find the bed and strip away our clothes. My body tangles with hers, my gaze swinging down to find that same look in her eyes that I feel down to my soul.
There’s this sacred space between liking and loving someone, a place that leads one way, whether we want to go or not. And I’m crossing over the pits of hell to get there, fighting for her heart, even while knowing mine will break in the end.
RAQUEL
My skin may be bare, but my heart? It’s completely exposed.
His palm cradles my cheek so tenderly, I can’t help the zap of lightning shooting through my heart.
His body presses into me from above and those eyes don’t leave mine as he buries his cock deep, his movements pronounced every time he thrusts.
My breaths leave in hurried pants, his just as heavy while his lips stroke mine softly as I gasp into him. He groans as his thick length stretches me, while his hand goes to my inner thigh, lifting it up a fraction, eliciting a louder moan. The new position hits me deeper, so I can barely speak.
“You’re so damn beautiful, wife.” His voice is hoarse with emotion.
In response, all I can do is cry out as I sink into his gaze. Every inch of me is his, right down to my soul. This feeling is so otherworldly that tears sting behind my eyes.
And this time, when his lips move across my mouth, he kisses me.
It’s soft. Intimate. Filled with passionate hunger.
He rocks against me like we have all the time in the world, like every single second, he’s capturing these moments we’re creating.
And I am too. Being with him right here, right now, it has me wondering how I can leave a man who makes me want this much.
My hands ride up the back of his head, needing him as close as possible. I never want this to end.
How can I feel so connected to him already? This feels real, like we’ve been together before. Like our bodies and our hearts have always been meant to move together. And he moves me. Every single part.
He nudges back his face, our gazes aligning once more as he drops my leg.
His fingers find my achy clit, stroking it unhurriedly.
I fasten around him, my body shuddering and my voice growing needier the more he touches me—the more he sinks inside me—until I can’t escape the strength of the release tingling through me.
“Yes, Dante. Just like that.” I beg for something I know he’s more than willing to give.
A deep-chested roar crawls out of him as he sinks with heavier strokes, finding a rhythm too hard for me to resist. And I fall, clutching his shoulders, my eyes tethered to his as I let him take everything I’ve never given another.
He spills into the condom with a groan, having remembered to wear it this time. His palm clutches the top of my head as he kisses me, his tongue thrusting with a tremble of his voice. And when his body stills, he tucks me into his side.
A deep exhale escapes from my lips as contentment overflows through my pores. The after-sex spooning has me in a state of bliss. My fingers slice in between his thick, masculine ones, and he curls his hand over mine in a tender embrace.
I’ve never been touched by a man. I don’t mean physically. There’s this power in being touched by someone emotionally, right to the very soul of who you are. That’s what it’s been like with Dante in these past weeks.
And if I thought leaving him behind would be difficult then, it’ll be impossible now. He makes me want to stay and fight, to get the happiness I rightfully deserve.
But is that possible? Can he really keep me safe from Carlito? Can he keep my parents away? And do I really want a life of fear, of constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop? He’s going to spend his whole life protecting me from all of them. Is that fair to us?
Someone will always try to come after me. My parents will never rest until they get me away from him. I know that for a fact. They will stop at nothing to get what they want. And Carlito will kill anyone standing in his way.
Dante can do whatever he wants to Carlito, but I’ll never allow him to hurt my parents.
Their hearts may be in the wrong place, but they’re still my family.
They just think they know what’s best for me, but they have no idea how wrong they are.
Money isn’t everything. I’d rather marry a poor man and struggle every day than fight off a man who’ll spend his life hurting me.
I should call my parents. I should explain my position again and give them a chance to let me lead my own path. It’s the right thing to do. They love me. I know they do.
I should ask Dante to let me call my mother just so she knows I’m okay. I really don’t like worrying them, but I don’t have much of an option, do I?
I decide to test the waters and ask him now after the mind-blowing sex we just had.
“So, I was wondering…” The pads of my fingers glide up and down his forearm.
“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.”
My insides turn warm and mushy every single time he calls me that. He leans over, swiping my hair away as his lips land affectionately on my neck, and my core clenches from the emotional tug of the gesture.
“I want to call my mother,” I explain.
“Raquel, I—”
“Just let me finish,” I cut him off, pushing myself around to face him. “She must be worried sick. I don’t want her to get ill or something because of my running off.”
“Baby, I can have a letter sent if that’s what worries you.” He cups my cheek. “But I can’t let you call her. It’s not safe. If they find you here and I’m not around…” His eyes drift to a close as his lips softly fall to my forehead for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry. I hate saying no to you.”
“Fine,” I spit out with aggravation—not at him, but at this entire situation.
“I’m sorry, Raquel. I’m not trying to be a dick, baby. I want to protect you.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, pushing myself away from him. “That’s always everyone’s excuse for telling me what I can or cannot do.”
“That’s not how it is with me.” He clasps the back of my head, pulling me right back to him, his forehead landing over mine. “Forgive me. I promise, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
His raw tone grasps at my heart, tugging at every part of it.
“I’ve never cared about any woman as much as I do you, sweetheart.
That’s God’s honest truth. You’re special to me.
And if I let you do this and something happens to you…
” He draws back, sighing harshly, his eyes locked to mine.
“I’d kill every person who had a hand in hurting you.
Do you understand what I am, baby? Do you understand I’d kill for you with no hesitation? ”
My lips tremble at his solemn confession while my eyes sting with tears as they go downcast.
“It’s okay if you’re scared of me,” he goes on, nudging my chin up with a finger. “But you should know who you’re fucking.”
“I…I’m not scared.”
“Really?” His thumbs line my lower lashes, the corners of his mouth curling up with a mournful smile. “Your tears don’t lie.”
And he wipes them away.
“I’m not crying because I’m scared,” I explain, my hand falling over his.
“Then why, baby?”
My heart pounds in my throat, afraid to tell him the truth. Nervous that it makes me depraved somehow.
Taking a deep breath, I just say it. “I never realized how much I wanted someone to care about me enough to commit murder.”
He tilts his head back, looking at me like I have five heads. His hands move away, and then a boisterous laugh slips from his throat. He keeps laughing, unable to stop, and I join in, not even sure what I’m laughing at.
“Hey,” I giggle, smacking him on the chest. “What the hell is so funny?”
“Babe, of all the things you could’ve said, I never expected you to say that.” He runs a hand past his face, his chuckles slowing. “I thought you were about to tell me that you’re not just scared; you’re terrified. Shit, who knew you were just as crazy?”
“Hey!” I snicker, rolling my eyes. “Only on Sundays.”
“It’s not Sunday.”
I shrug my shoulders as my lips wind sideways.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He rolls on top of me, grabbing my wrists and pinning them on each side of my head. “Who the hell knew you’d be this perfect for me?”
He groans with an arch of his hips, his mouth descending to my neck.
“I hope you know…” he adds in between soft kisses down to my shoulder. “I’m gonna fight like hell to keep you.”
And with a hungry touch of his lips, he steals all the excuses from my mouth. All the reasons I can’t stay. He kisses me with all the goodbyes we haven’t yet had, convincing me to hold on even when it seems impossible.