Chapter 18 Angel
Angel
Emma was quiet when I opened the passenger door for her.
She barely even looked my way. When she settled into her seat, her hands were shaking so badly that I had to bring the seatbelt down around her and click it into the buckle.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. I touched her chin, brought her troubled blue eyes to mine. “You did exceptionally well tonight.”
She shook me off. “I just want to go back to the compound,” she said. “Please.”
That wasn’t all it was; I was sure of it. “Emma.” Her shaking got worse. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She shook her head. “After everything you did for Manny tonight, I’d do just about anything for you. Tell me what you need.”
“I jerry rigged first aid on a fourteen-year-old child,” she breathed out, “after sitting through a meeting about international drug smuggling…I’m about to crawl out of my skin.”
I studied her for a long moment. She didn’t seem disgusted or scared, just unsettled. Disturbed, maybe. “What can I do, mi esposa?”
Her eyes rolled shut. “Take me home,” she repeated, and I was a little stunned to hear her call the compound “home.” It was the first time I could remember her doing so. I shut the passenger door. I didn’t think that would be the end of things, but for now, it was all I could do.
When we pulled into the compound, Emma reached over and gripped my hand. “Will you —?”
“Will I what, mi esposa?”
“Take me upstairs,” she said, and her tone told me that she wanted me to touch her.
“I thought you said you were crawling out of your skin.” Not that I would ever give up the opportunity to touch her…
but I wanted her to want it too. I was greedy for her sounds, for the way she held onto me like I was her anchor to this world.
In those moments, Emma gave me nearly everything that she was, and I refused to accept any less than that.
“I am…I need you to help me make it fit again.” Emma stared at me, and that look of confusion and desire — the look that I was becoming addicted to — was clear in her eyes. I didn’t quite get what she meant, but I could see the need there.
I brushed my thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Go to our bedroom,” I told her. “Get ready for me.”
Relief flooded her expression, and she was out of the car and headed into the house before I had a chance to move. I smirked, watching the sway of her hips, the way the fabric of her dress stretched over her curves, as she did.
I followed more slowly, stopping into Padre’s office as I went. “Padre,” I said, knocking on the door as I came through.
“The meeting went well?” he asked, but he didn’t sound pleased.
“It did,” I said, ignoring his tone. “The Vitalis, Miguel and I agreed to build a facility in Venezuela together and push into international markets. Europe is lucrative. Same with Russia.”
Padre closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were thinking, but I knew he was counting in his head.
Someone told him that counting to ten helped to calm the nerves.
It didn’t work, but he never stopped trying.
“Luis Rojas sent me a white flag,” he said, not responding to what I’d said. “He wants to meet and make peace.”
Peace? I could spit at the very word. “It’s a trap.”
“I have an appointment at the hospital,” he said, continuing to ignore me, and by appointment, I knew he meant a chemo treatment.
He hadn’t said the word yet, like we’d deftly avoided the word “cancer” since his diagnosis, but I’d taken him to a handful of appointments so far.
They didn’t seem to be doing anything, but my Padre was nothing if not stubborn.
Even during the dying process. “You’re meeting with him on neutral territory.
To act against you there would be an act of war. ”
Anger flashed through me. “He attacked me and killed half of my men in our bar without provocation. He already committed an act of war.”
My father’s lip twitched up in a snarl. “Are you yelling at me, mijo?” he asked in that dangerous voice of his.
I dropped my head in a show of a contrition that I didn’t truly feel. “No, Padre,” I said. “I’m merely…cautious about this change in heart. Luis Rojas hasn’t been known to be a peaceful man. Is it wise for us to take this meeting?”
Padre chewed his jaw for a moment. “You will take this meeting,” he said, “and take Omar with you. If Luis looks like he’s double-dealing, kill him.”
There was no room for argument. “Sí, Padre.” After another long stare, he gestured for me to go, and with a nod, I left. Thinking of Luis Rojas turned my stomach…but I had Emma waiting in my bed.
I found her on our bed, naked and breathless. One hand was between her thighs, and her teeth were sunken into her bottom lip. I knew that look: she was frustrated. “What’s wrong, mi esposa?” I asked, leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over my chest.
She whined. “You took too long.” The movement of her hand, her fingers, didn’t stop, but she huffed. “I can’t –”
I stalked towards the bed. “You can’t what, Emma?”
She withdrew her hand from between her legs, pouting in a way that made me want to pin her down. “It’s not as good.”
I could have crowed. No one, not even her, could make her feel as good as I could. Only I could bring her the relief that she so desperately needed. “Show me,” I breathed out.
Her brows wrinkled in confusion. “What?” She sat up on her elbows. “Angel, what are you saying?”
“Show me what’s mine,” I told her.
Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink, but even embarrassed, Emma didn’t hesitate to bring her knees up and part her thighs.
Her wetness glistened in the light, and it took every ounce of my self-control not to pounce on her.
“Why are you still over there?” I could hear the frustration in her voice. “Angel, please.”
I climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her. I cupped her, brushing my finger right against where she needed me most, and she keened. “Tell me how badly you need me.”
Her eyes flared with defiance, but when I took my fingers away, her thighs clamped around my arm. “I need you,” she begged. “So badly.” Tears welled in her eyes, and I knew this wasn’t a game. This wasn’t the time to tease and torment, even if she liked that most days.
I could have offered pretty words of reassurance, but that wasn’t what she needed either. Instead, I put my fingers back where she wanted them and began to circle her clit in a way that bowed her spine. “Angel,” she gasped.
I kept my movement steady, and her pleasure built quickly.
Her fingers gripped at the blanket beneath her, and her hips rode my hand, chasing the feelings that I was evoking.
While I kept pace with my thumb against her, I slipped a finger inside and curled it into that sensitive spot on her inner wall.
Emma let out a wounded noise, and her interior muscles spasmed around me.
“There you go,” I said. “Come for me, mi esposa.”
She did, back nearly bent in a perfect arch. She was beautiful when she came —it was a sight that I didn’t think I would tire of any time soon.
I pulled back, intending for us to shower and change for bed, but Emma grabbed at me with desperate, seeking hands. As if she was still on that razor’s edge. “You didn’t —”
I shook my head. “We don’t have to,” I said. “This was for you.” It wasn’t often that I didn’t chase my own satisfaction in bed; my partner’s pleasure was an extension of my own. But this was just for her, to make her skin fit again, as she said.
Emma was confused by that. A spark of irritation shot through me. She doesn’t think I can do something nice for her? I thought. “Just go get ready for bed,” I said and got up. “I want to get out of this suit.”
Before she could do or say anything more, I was moving out of the room to get in the shower. If I stayed with her, I would fuck her, and while neither of us would be upset about that, I needed to make a point both to her and to myself.
I showered in a quick, perfunctory manner, willing my dick to subside. By the time I’d brushed my teeth and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms, it had mostly listened to me. Back in the bedroom, Emma had removed her makeup and wrapped herself back in our sheets. Her back was to me.
Shit.
“Emma?”
There was no answer. I climbed onto the bed to find her asleep. Her sweet-smelling hair was spread out over the pillows. I curved myself around her back and wrapped an arm around her. In her sleep, Emma wriggled back against me, seeking me out. I groaned when I realized that she was still naked.
How is she this pretty even when she’s asleep?
I pressed my lips to her bare shoulder, over the chain of the St. Christopher’s medal. She hadn’t taken it off once since I put it on her neck. Emma hummed. “Don’t start what you won’t finish.”
Irritation speared through my gut, and I sank my teeth into her shoulder, hard enough that she gasped and tried to squirm away. I tightened my grip on her. “Oh, no, mi esposa, you had to be mouthy. Take the consequence.”
“You’re the one who –”
I bit her again, sucking at the reddened skin until I knew there would be a bruise.
“Quiet.” I used my free hand to push my pajama bottoms down.
“Hold your leg up.” Emma made an undignified sound, but before she could refuse, I rubbed myself against her.
“If you want me,” I said, mocking, “hold your leg up.” Emma was still for a moment, but then she drew her leg up, giving me more room.
With a shift, I pressed inside her, drawing a moan from her throat. “Is this what you wanted?”
She nodded, whining softly. “Fuck me.” I swore out loud and did what she asked, bucking my hips into her in a steady, hard rhythm that left her practically clawing at our sheets.
Pleasure set me on fire. There was nothing that could ever compare to being buried as deeply inside of her as I could. “So fucking perfect,” I mumbled against her neck, darkening the marks that I’d made before.
“Oh, God,” Emma cried out, and I felt her spasm around me. “I’m –”
“Do it,” I commanded. “Come on my cock.” She squeezed around me as she came, and I groaned as her orgasm triggered mine. We lay there together, coming back down to earth, and I sighed.
“What?” She craned her neck to look at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I just showered.”
She stared at me in utter disbelief for a moment…and then we burst into laughter. It felt good to share this with her, and I held her close, soaking it all in.
When was the last time I was this indulgent with someone? “Come,” I said. “Let’s –”
“Not yet,” she begged, holding onto my arms. “Stay with me, just for a little while longer.”
It was impossible to say no to her…and that was even more unsettling.
She’ll make you soft.
The thought came, unbidden, to the forefront of my mind. It was something that Padre would say. I tried to shake it off…but it was hard to let it go. She was making me soft.