He gulped his coffee, closed his eyes, and let out a deep, satisfied hum.
I quickly turned my attention to my own plate, my cheeks flaming. This suddenly felt indecent, like I was a voyeur watching a beast in his natural habitat.
When the first bite of scrambled eggs hit my tongue, I understood Raúl’s liberal application of hot sauce. The consistency was unpleasantly rubbery, and he didn’t seem to have added any seasoning whatsoever. Didn’t the man not even understand the use of salt and pepper?
He glanced over at my plate, and I realized that most of his breakfast had already disappeared in a few shoveling mouthfuls. I quickly lifted another forkful of the chewy mess, eating with as much gusto as I could manage. Really, I’d made do with far worse—and sometimes nothing at all—over the last several months. I mustered up a small, appreciative noise, despite the fact that my tongue was burning from the hot sauce.
Is this stuff nuclear?
I waited until his lips curved into a smile again before gulping down my orange juice.
“More?” he asked, pointing at my empty glass.
I hesitated, not wanting to offend him. But my mouth was on fire, and my eyes would start watering if I didn’t do something to mitigate the pain. “Do you have any milk?”
His heavy brows drew together, and he grabbed my plate, carrying off the last few morsels of sauce-covered egg. Before I could worry that I’d been too obvious in my discomfort, he returned to me with a tall glass of milk.
“Sorry,” he offered when he pressed it into my hand. “I forgot how hot that stuff is.”
I tried and failed to stifle a moan as the cool milk soothed my scorched mouth. In an attempt to gloss over my unspoken distaste for the meal he’d prepared for me, I gestured at the bottle of thick green sauce. “Where did you find this stuff? It’s really, um, intense.” There wasn’t a label, so I’d had no warning that it contained what could only be described as masochist chilies.
His chest expanded, and he seemed to grow a few inches taller. “I make it myself. I have a hard time finding any that’s hot enough for me.”
It took concerted effort to stop myself from rolling my eyes, but I couldn’t entirely contain the small smirk that played around my lips.
I shouldn’t have been remotely surprised that a beast of a man like Raúl would express his machismo even in his culinary preferences. But it was such a silly trait. I wouldn’t have imagined my taciturn captor capable of expressing pride in his ability to endure pain with his food choices. There was something pure and almost childish about it. I could imagine him sitting around a table with his buddies, proving his superior manliness by guzzling gradually hotter and hotter options until he arose victorious; the most manly of all men with the highest pain tolerance for food that he ostensibly enjoyed.
“Is something funny?” he drawled, but he seemed to be suppressing a smile, too.
“I just didn’t picture you as the type to make your own hot sauce.”
He chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “I might be a shitty cook, but I’m not entirely useless.”
“I don’t think you’re useless,” I clarified, my tone light and teasing, even though I meant every word. Raúl had proven many times over that he was a very capable man in other ways. “You keep me safe,” I added more softly, the truth leaving my lips without thought.
He stepped closer, entering my personal space. All levity left his expression, his features settling into serious, stony planes. “That’s right. I keep you safe.”
His huge hand settled atop mine on the counter. The warm weight trapped my much smaller hand, but the firm, unyielding pressure pushed a gentle wave of calm through my body.
Light flashed through his intense, forest green stare, and his square jaw took on a commanding tilt. “You’re staying here with me, Marisol. I want to make sure you understand that. You’re not my hostage anymore—the cartel has no hold over you. But I do.” He leaned in slowly, so his body heat pulsed against my skin. “You will not run from me again.”
Instantly, the comforting weight of his hand became confining. I tried to pull free, but he held me fast, his face hardening to granite.
“I will not let you go.” Each word was enunciated with the weight of an oath.
My breath caught in my throat.
This is the price. This is how he expects me to repay the luxuries he’s offered me.
I was the payment. My freedom. My body.
Nausea churned my stomach, and I turned my face away. “You promised you wouldn’t.” The whispered plea was roughened by pain. For a few, blissful hours, I’d believed that he wouldn’t violate me. I’d known this was too good to be true.
But the crumbling sensation in my chest served as a cruel rebuke for my foolish delusion. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to hope for even one second that I’d be completely safe with Raúl. He was a vicious drug lord without morals or empathy. How could I have expected anything different?
His thick fingers curled beneath my chin. I flinched at his touch, but he persisted, cradling my jaw to forcibly redirect my gaze to his. He still handled me as carefully as if I was made of porcelain, but his firm refusal to permit my evasion was enough to coerce my compliance.
“I meant what I said. I will never hurt you like that. I will never rape you.” He growled the fierce declaration, but his hold remained gentle on my face.
I blinked rapidly, struggling to clear the oncoming wash of tears from my eyes. I wanted so badly to believe him, but no one gave something away for nothing in return. That wasn’t how the world worked.
“But you won’t let me leave,” I said softly. “I know what that means. I know you want me.” I’d seen the hunger in his eyes ever since he’d captured me, and when he’d overwhelmed me with his soul-searing, domineering kiss, there’d been no doubt of his desire.
His sharp stare pierced my chest, pinning me in place. “And I know you want me, too. I won’t have to force you.”
My heart skipped a beat, and my mouth went dry. When he looked at me like this—like he knew every single one of my erotic secrets—my body couldn’t help but respond. All the traitorous pleasure points I’d forced myself to forget had been reawakened by his possessive kiss.
The return of my sensual nature was so intense that it felt like an overwhelming, uncontrollable force of nature; something that surged within me, overriding reason and driving me to reckless wantonness.
It scared me. I couldn’t trust myself when lust overtook me. I’d thrown myself into it with wild abandon once before, and I’d lost everything because of my selfish indulgence. Riding this wave of treacherous ecstasy was a giddy, thrilling, addictive adventure. I’d embraced it without a second thought when I’d fallen for Gehovany, too naïve to understand that something that burns so white-hot will ultimately destroy.
And now, I felt the swell of that wave with Raúl, excited by the fiery chemistry that I shared with a dangerous man. Even though he’d been nothing but good to me so far, he was an undeniably bad man. He was a criminal, and I’d seen him commit murder right before my eyes as though it was nothing.
Gehovany’s cruel nature paled in comparison to Raúl’s life of casual brutality.