7. Daniela
Matheus Souza’s flames scorched me.
They crackle with such an intensity that my blood runs cold when I move away from him.
I adore the burn. Crave it even. Hate how it takes hold of me.
Despite all of that, I had to walk away. To have some self-respect, regardless of how difficult it would be to disappear.
The cold hard facts are poison to my veins, slowly killing me.
And now, wandering the city streets, my foggy thoughts are spinning out of control and I’m fucking freezing.
For the first time since Mama had died, suffocating loneliness weighs me down and holds me captive under its dark surface.
I’m lost.
Confused.
Heartbroken…
All out of ammo, knives, guns, and a cell phone to contact Blanco, I follow my feet for miles. Unconsciously, I make my way back to the mansion where there’s an arsenal of weapons at my disposal and a bathtub to soak in while I think.
Staying in the shadows where I’m at my happiest, it doesn’t come as a surprise to find a few lights on inside the mansion.
All of Blanco’s homes are permanently guarded and his various housekeepers organize cleaning crews to move in immediately after he vacates the premises.
Tonight is no different. I know the protocol and I understand his movements.
He won’t be here.
Numb and cold—I punch in the key code, slip through the main gates, and dodge the security cameras, knowing their exact positions and all the blind spots.
A few armed men guard the front door, so I creep around the side and gaze up at the balcony leading to Sofia’s bedroom.
When she stays here, allocated soldiers man this very area.
Primarily, because I’d assessed it as easy to both climb and descend. But mostly because the girl likes danger and wouldn”t think twice about sneaking out without telling me.
I scale the ivy trained trellis with ease and throw my leg over the balcony, hauling myself onto the ledge.
Dropping to the other side, I shove a heavy planter sideways and collect a spare key for the glazed sliding door.
Indoors, I prowl through my sister’s bedroom where her clothes and shoes litter the floor after their quick getaway earlier.
I peer around the door jamb onto the landing, thankful it’s clear, and head straight to my room.
Although I’m the highest-ranking soldier on Blanco’s payroll, I also have a permanent seat at his dining table and an allocated bedroom in every single property he owns.
We don’t have a normal father-daughter relationship, but we have something.
It doesn’t take long before I’m creeping into my unlit bedroom, quietly closing the door behind me.
Finally able to relax, I press my spine against the door and let my head fall back to the white wood, an exhausted sigh whispering into the silence.
Slowly, sinking downward, I untie my boots first, tug them off, and peel my socks from my achy feet.
Next, I pull the blood-stained base layer up and over my head, rake hair out of my eyes, unzip my utility pants, and shove them past my hips. I’m left in only my bra and panties.
I leave everything in a heap at the door and pad over the plush carpet, my bare feet not making a sound.
Moonlight spills in through the window and catches the sharp corners of heavy furniture, fracturing light across the floor like laser beams.
A sudden shiver sprinkles my skin in goosebumps and that red-hot awareness catches up with me again, halting me in the middle of the room.
I close my eyes and run the tips of my fingers over my belly, imagining his lips on mine and his possessive hands on every inch of my body.
Sliding the straps off my shoulders, I unclip my bra and let it fall to my feet, letting dirty thoughts of Matheus flood me.
I’ve been in a hungry state of arousal since he dragged me under the truck with him. It won’t go away. Not even when I remind myself of who he is and what he’s done.
My fingers glide over my breasts and pluck my nipples, needing relief. It doesn’t feel the same, though.
That buzz of chemistry is missing…and his warm mouth.
I grunt at my horny frustration and decide to get in the tub first. But before my next step, a soft exhale carries through the silence.
My head whips around to my bed by the far window. I freeze.
Someone’s lying on top of the comforter. Whoever it is appears to be sleeping in my bed.
Annoyed at myself for not noticing the danger, I tread closer, ready to strangle the unwelcome visitor.
Getting closer, I recognize the gorgeous man sprawled flat on his back. An artist”s dream muse.
Matheus.
My body hums even when it shouldn’t, not for him.
An empty bottle of Blanco’s best whiskey sits on the nightstand beside a handgun and his head rests on my feather down pillow.
Silver moonlight worships every naked dip and contour of his taut abdomen and illuminates a few scattered bruises.
My gaze wanders all over him with a racing heartbeat, settling on the white towel slung around his hips.
Dark, damp hair drapes his relaxed brow, the tips teasing a cut above his eyebrow.
A shadow of unshorn stubble darkens his strong jaw and those lips…those pouty lips of his…so full and wet are temptation in the rawest form.
Inwardly, I swear at myself. The way I’m breathless and my heart is thumping is pathetic.
Rather than indulge in the sight of his bare chest, I should grab the gun and tell him to get the fuck out of here.
But he looks so peaceful. Godlike in his natural pose and manly with war wounds and battle scars.
A real warrior—the guy who had my back and rallied an army to save me—out of duty.
I tiptoe even closer, making sure I stay in the shadows, so he wouldn”t see me if he opened his eyes. The ache in my belly intensifies, not helped by the butterflies in my chest.
I bite my bottom lip and curl my fingers into a tight fist to stop myself from teasing open the towel.
God, the urgent desire to slip my hand underneath it and skim the satiny crown of his dick has me shamefully wet.
The man I’m in love with is lying before me, vulnerable in sleep and semi-naked. The fact he doesn”t know I’m here makes me hotter than ever.
I’m imagining all the dirty things I could do to him––the relief I’d get from having him pounding into me. It’s all here before me—in touching distance.
But the cut he made across my heart is gaping wide open, and I’m more vulnerable than him.
My soul begs for him to mend it. To medicate the pain I’m in and fix the impossible rift between us.
I swallow hard.
Matheus made his decision to marry my sister—without even asking her first. Yet I think about the man even when I should forget him.
But fuck, it doesn’t have to stop me from having him one last time.
After all, he’s in my bed. In my room. In my family home.
I frown at that thought.
Why the hell is he still here and not in a fancy hotel?
Matheus paid an unforgivable price to learn important secrets. He should be getting to know my sister. The woman he picked over me.
My stomach churns and my heart hurts even more.
I stand frozen for what feels like an age, thinking things through. His chest lifts and falls with every shallow breath he takes, and I inwardly battle the addiction I have for him.
My skin is hot and my swollen clit throbs as I watch him from the shadows, considering my options.
Fall for him again. Taste the deception on his tongue and let it be my closure. Or redress, gather cash and weapons, then walk out the door without ever looking back.
He’d never even know I was here.
With adrenaline pumping loud in my ears, I lean over him and bring my nose close to his neck.
He smells different. Minty and fresh from a recent shower.
I inch a little closer and hover my face over his, aware my pointed nipples could brush against his chest if I dip a fraction lower.
Chills flurry over my scalp and the burn of lust takes hold.
I want this man too much. Maybe I should end this once and for all, on my own terms.
Suddenly his eyelashes spring up and a hand clamps onto my wrist, his instincts quick and sharp.
It takes a second for his chestnut eyes to focus on my face lingering over his, but when they do, his lips curl into a devastating grin and inky pupils blow wide.
“There she is––my fantasy in the flesh.” His voice is a low rumble, hoarse and deep. “My sexy-as-fuck little firecracker, all wet, naked and hungry for my dick.” His fingers tighten. “What happens now, Dani–huh? What are you going to do with me?”
My belly flips and any hope I had of ever being okay without him turns to dust from the fire of his touch.
Tingles catapult everywhere and a girly whimper escapes me.
Damn it!
“Absolutely nothing,” I reply half-heartedly.
I do have a plan which involves his dick and my pussy having a final fling before I ignore him for the rest of my morally gray life.
Although, I won’t make it that obvious. He doesn’t need to know I’m desperate for it.
“Is this why you keep running from me?” he asks, alcohol heavy on his breath. “Because the make-up sex is way dirtier when it’s all naughty and hot like this?”
“Why the hell are you in my bed?” I growl, doing my best to play it cool.
“Where else would I be?”
“In your own bed. Somewhere else. Somewhere that’s nowhere near me.”
Releasing me, the temporary freedom is my chance to pull away. I don’t though.
Rather, I let his strong arms wrap around my waist and surrender when he drags me onto his hard body.
“If I was somewhere else, you wouldn’t be where you belong,” he says on a husky exhale, lightly tracing the cut on my cheekbone. “On top of me––checking me out.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” my voice lowers, hating how he’s frowning now.
“Let me clean this cut for you. It’s inflamed.”
“That’s why I came back here, smartass. To sort it out myself. Not because I’m tracking your every move.”
His brows drift high, and a sexy grin tugs at his mouth.
“Come on, Dani, did you really think I’d let you run away from me? That I wouldn’t catch up with you, eventually.”
I roll my eyes and release a fake, exasperated sigh.
“Like I said, I’m not here for you. I’m just passing through. And for the record, I casually walked away from you earlier. There was no running involved. But here we are. You’ve taken gatecrashing my personal space to another level. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are a Souza.”
“Dani.” Matheus bumps his forehead against mine, the texture of his sleepy voice gritty and sexy.
The feeling I get when we’re skin to skin makes my high walls topple like dominoes.
“You’re in my personal space, because you want to fuck my brains out. Deny it, and all you’d be is an unsatisfied liar.”
He lifts his hips, raising us both higher and yanks the towel, freeing it from around his thighs.
“You can’t resist me, and I––fuck––I’d never be able to resist you. So, whatever you were thinking of doing to me just now, go ahead. I’m all yours.”
His eyes blaze a ring of fire, sincere and so very hypnotic. Having a Souza in my bed, in Blanco’s house, nonetheless, feels wickedly surreal.
Naughty even. Fucked up, to say the least.
One last time won’t hurt––that much.
I position my knees at either side of his thighs, drag my tongue along my palm to wet it and slide my hand between us, groping the fullness of his dick.
Matheus sucks in slowly through gritted teeth and his skin reacts with hundreds of goosebumps all over his delicious masculine chest.
Having him beneath me, with this level of control, is the hottest sensation ever.
My gentle strokes give him a full body tremor and me––God––I’m tingling all over too.
With his dick thick and hard, it’s the strongest I’ve ever felt it and the way he’s watching every move I make has me wound up.
A hand dives into my hair, his fingers weaving through the strands. In a beat, he’s upright and his other hand secures me tight to him.
With our chests pressed together, I feel the power of his heartbeat thumping against mine. The fast tempo of it is wild and untamed, telling me he’s trying hard to behave.
But it won’t last long.
I dip into his face, my hand no longer rubbing his dick and whisper at the edge of his mouth, “You’re right, Mat. I want to have sex with you. To have you deep inside of me. I’d beg you for more, over and over again. But that doesn’t mean I want to do it forever. I have a little crush on you. That’s all. And you know what happens to crushes? They get crushed. And I move on to the next hard dick.”
The hand in my hair shoots to my neck and tightens around my windpipe.
I suck in sharply, panicked by the storm swirling in his eyes, and wonder if this would end in bloodshed.