29. Isabela
ISABELA
His arms are so strong as they carry me from the SUV into the house.
There are men everywhere, wearing their weapons like badges of honor.
I smell smoke somewhere too, like it's been painted on the walls.
Furniture's overturned, and paintings from the walls have fallen, bullet holes in them.
I tuck my head into Demin's neck to hide from it all as he carries me toward the bedroom.
"Is he okay?" I ask, snuffling as I think of my father and what probably transpired in this hell hole while I was locked away with Sergei.
"Your father is fine, Milaya." Demin's pet name for me is sweet, but I need truth, not coddling.
He pushes through the door to his room and sets me on the bed, dropping to his knees to assess my wrists and ankles, lacerated and burned by the ropes I was bound with.
"My father, Demin. Is he okay!" I'm in no mood for this. I've been through hell and I need to know Papa is alright.
"Bart said he's fine, Isabela. Okay? The men held the line. Seven Cartel members dead, two of my own, and your father is safely tucked away under heavy guard getting medical care and asking for you." His eyes search mine. "Are you alright?"
"He didn't touch me, if that's what you're asking."
But Demin is ignoring my words in favor of touching every part of my exposed body, fawning over every wound. I've never seen him so attentive and obsessed, and when he killed Sergei, the rage in his eyes was terrifying. I've never seen a man so determined.
He starts peeling my shirt off, removing the filth as he examines my flesh for bruising, and I catch his wrists, pinning them together and forcing him to stop. He looks up at me with concern in his eyes.
"I'm okay," I assure him, but I swear his eyes are brimming with emotion. "I swear. I'm alright."
"I thought…" He won't even finish his sentence. I don't know what he thought Sergei would do to me, but whatever is going through his mind has scared him. He may never admit it but this behavior isn't like him.
"I know… me too," I breathe, pulling him in.
He wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my hair, and I wrap my arms around him in return.
It's an odd moment. My captor who has insisted my father become his property has come full circle, defending me without any good reason.
My father was working just fine for him. Demin never had to come save me.
And to know that hell had invaded his home at the same time that I had been taken and he chose to come to me instead of stopping Solano from getting to my father means something. He chose me over his business.
"Why did you come for me?" I ask softly, which makes him pull back and cup my face with both hands firmly. He looks me in the eyes, almost trembling.
"How could I not? Your presence in my life has changed everything, Isabela. Can't you see I love you? You mean more to me than all the business or money or power in this world…" His eyes search mine, then he leans in and kisses me fiercely. "I thought I lost you."
"I'm here," I mumble between frantic kisses. Then his hands are on my hips pulling me into his body as he leans me over the bed.
Demin pins me down against the mattress with his weight, his body crushing mine.
His hands grip my wrists and stretch them above my head, while the other yanks at my shirt.
He strips it off me, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of my pants and drags them down my legs along with my underwear until I lie completely bare.
"You're mine, Isabela," he growls against my mouth possessively.
"This body belongs to me. No one else gets to touch it.
No one else gets to take you from me." He kisses me hard, his tongue pushing past my lips as he claims every inch of my mouth.
His free hand roams down my side, squeezing my breast before sliding lower over my stomach and between my thighs.
I arch under him, but he keeps me pinned, as he says, "Look at you," he says, his fingers dipping between my folds. He strokes me there, spreading the slickness, then circles my clit with slow pressure. "This pussy is dripping for me. Tell me who you belong to."
I gasp as he pushes two fingers inside me, thrusting them deep and curling them against that spot that makes my thighs shake.
He kisses me again, biting at my lower lip while his fingers pump in and out.
"That's it, Milaya, good girl. This tight little cunt squeezes me so perfectly.
No one else will ever fill you like this. "
He adds a third finger, stretching me as he works them faster, his thumb massaging and circling my clit.
His mouth moves to my neck, sucking and biting at the skin there while he keeps me pinned and helpless.
"You're mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to keep safe no matter what comes.
" His dirty words send heat rushing through me as his fingers thrust harder, hitting that perfect angle over and over.
"Oh, God," I whimper, rocking and grinding.
My hips buck against his hand, but he holds me steady, controlling every movement, and all I can do is obey him. It's all I want to do. He's all I want.
"Cum for me, Isabela. Cum on my fingers so I can feel how much you need me." He curls them again, pressing deep and rubbing my clit harder until the pleasure builds and crashes over me.
I come hard, my body tightening around his fingers as waves of it roll through me.
He keeps thrusting through it, drawing it out while I tremble and moan.
His eyes stay locked on mine the whole time, dark with possession as I cling to the feeling of him touching me, his strength holding me in place as the last tremors fade.
His fingers stay buried inside me as he watches my face.
He pulls his fingers free and I reach for him immediately, my hands framing his face as he settles between my thighs.
His hand works at his belt, then his fly, and he frees himself.
When he pushes inside me, we both exhale at the connection, his forehead resting against mine.
His eyes stay locked on mine as he begins to thrust slowly.
"You feel perfect around me," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you like this, Isabela. Just us. Connected."
He kisses me softly, then deeper, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that builds heat between us. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him closer, my hands sliding over his back to hold him tight. Each thrust feels like he is claiming me while giving himself fully in return.
"My God…" I moan, opening myself wider so he can go deeper, but he shifts our position, rolling us so I'm on top without breaking our connection. I brace my hands on his chest and move my hips, taking him deeper as I set the pace.
Demin grips my waist, guiding me while his eyes never leave my face. "Ride me, Milaya. God, you're so beautiful."
His words carry that possessive tone, but his touch is reverent, his thumbs stroking my skin as if memorizing every inch of me.
I move faster, grinding down on him as pleasure coils tighter inside me again.
He sits up to meet me, one arm wrapping around my back while his other hand cups the back of my neck.
We stay face to face, chests pressed together, sharing breath between kisses.
"I love you," he whispers against my lips. "I chose you tonight because nothing matters without you."
His confession hits me hard, and I kiss him back, pouring everything I feel into it as our bodies continue to move together. The angle and his nearness push me closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet me, hitting that perfect spot with every motion.
"Come for me again," he growls. "I want to feel you fall apart while I'm inside you."
His hand slips between us to rub my clit again.
The combination sends me over. My orgasm crashes through me in powerful waves, starting deep where we're joined and radiating outward.
My walls clench around him rhythmically, squeezing tight as pleasure surges through my core, my thighs, and up my spine.
I moan his name, my body trembling in his arms as the release holds me in its grip, prolonged as every pulse draws him deeper.
Demin follows moments later, tightening his arms around me as his thrusts become erratic.
He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name as he comes.
I feel him pulse inside me, filling me with each throb.
His orgasm rolls through him in deep, shuddering waves that make his whole body tense and then relax against mine.
He holds me close through it, his cock continuing to twitch as he empties himself completely, our bodies locked together in the shared climax.
We stay like that for a long time afterward, still joined, my head resting on his shoulder while his hands stroke up and down my back.
He kisses my temple, then my cheek, then my lips, each one tender and full of the words he doesn't say aloud.
I kiss him back, threading my fingers through his hair as I hold him just as tightly.
"I want to see my father," I mumble, even as fatigue pulls at my eyes. "I need to know he's safe."
"You need to rest… and tomorrow we will see him, alright?
" His hands curl hair behind my ears as I let my eyelids shut.
The relaxation of sex is sucking me under, and I know I'll be asleep shortly.
But if Demin says Papa is safe, then I will trust him.
I've just been through the worst ordeal of my life.
Having patience until morning will be easy.