My knees sagged, and he finally eased back to allow me to breathe. His merciless, triumphant grin was the center of my world, and I clung to his powerful frame; the only solid thing in existence.
Light filtered through his verdant green eyes, bathing my upturned face in the warmth of the sun. His sharp smile remained firmly fixed in place, but his fingers were gentle as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear with careful reverence.
“Mine.” His possessive declaration rumbled through my chest, vibrating all the way down to fuel the aching throb between my legs.
Cold flashed through my heated flesh, rolling beneath the surface of my skin in nauseating waves.
Mine. The single, irrevocable word echoed through my mind, reverberating against my skull.
Raúl thought he owned me. I will not let you go.
My stomach churned, and I stiffened in his arms. It seemed I couldn’t resist my dark nature. Lust was my ruin, my curse.
I was clinging to a dangerous drug lord, pressing my hips into his erection like his cock was what I craved most in the entire world. While I’d been mindlessly swept up in his kiss, I’d craved for his darkness to tangle with mine.
The price I’d paid for my past indulgence had almost broken me. If I didn’t escape from Raúl’s strong arms, I’d shatter. And this time, I wouldn’t survive the damage.
Eventually, his possessive affection would twist into jealous rage. His meaty fists would be painted red with my blood. And the blood of the people I loved.
Never again.
I had to get away from Raúl before I lost all control. He’d warned me that my plan to cross the US border was doomed. But I wasn’t entirely on my own anymore.
He’d made the mistake of revealing that I still had an ally, one who was powerful enough to stand up to him. Carmen wants to make sure you’re okay. But she won’t like that I’m keeping you. She’ll try to take you away from me.
If I could get back to Carmen Ronaldo, I could make a new plan. She was the smartest person I’d ever met. She would help me figure out how to find a safe place, away from Raúl’s dangerous allure. And she understood cartel politics well enough to make sure that there wouldn’t be any violent fallout.
There was still time for me to forge my own path to freedom, and no one else would be put at risk. No one else would die because of me.
I just had to get out of here before the dark force inside me overwhelmed reason. If I surrendered to Raúl, my fate would be sealed.
Chapter 12
Raúl
Fuck.
Marisol’s body went rigid, and her lashes lowered to shutter her rich, chocolate eyes.
My own muscles tensed. My first instinct was to trap her more tightly against me until her soft curves molded to the hard planes of my body once again.
I gritted my teeth and released her with a grunt, forcing my arms to my sides. I didn’t like when she reacted to me like this. I liked when she looked at me like I was her savior; when her eyes darkened with lust, and she shuddered beneath my rough hands as though she craved me more than she needed air.
I flexed my fingers to fists and then released them, trying and failing to purge the aggression that coiled my body tight. Marisol was still traumatized, and she wasn’t ready to fully accept the darker nature of our chemistry.
Although I would always be careful with her, I couldn’t be gentle. I’d become obsessed with keeping my fragile, pretty hostage safe from harm, but when I claimed her, I would be harsh and demanding. She would surrender everything to me. I would accept nothing less.
And her responses to my kiss told me she’d love every second of her forced submission.
But it had only been a couple days since Daniel had assaulted her. She’d been attacked by the thief in Juárez shortly after. It was becoming clear to me that other men had made her suffer, long before I’d met her and taken on my role as her protector.
If you want things to be the same as they were with Daniel, just go ahead. Take what you want. I won’t fight you. It’s not worth the extra pain. Her acidic challenge needled my mind, stirring an echo of the rage and disgust that’d flooded me on the night she’d thought I would rape her.
Before I’d kissed her just now, she’d been opening up to me about losing her family, making herself vulnerable. Marisol had been through hell, and it was no wonder her emotions were swinging wildly. Once she settled in my home, she would stop resisting our connection.
Her resistance only tempted the monster in me, fueling my savage urge to conquer and claim. My fists flexed once again in a futile attempt to work out the sexual aggression that simmered just beneath my skin.
Her gaze landed on my clenched fists, and she shrank back.
I ran a hand through my hair, raking my nails over my scalp. I was an impatient, greedy bastard, and my restraint was tenuous at the best of times. Denying myself when Marisol’s petite, trembling body was within easy reach was self-imposed torture.
“I’m going to my workshop,” I half-growled at her. Pounding a sledgehammer against glowing hot iron until it bent to my will would help me redirect my savage impulses. I could spare Marisol from my most beastly urges. “You’re free to do whatever you want. You know the layout of the house now.”
I turned sharply and stalked away from her before my control could snap.
There were plenty of options around my property to occupy her time. I didn’t have to keep watch over her every minute of the day. It wasn’t as though my house was a prison.
Her wide, doe eyes as I’d shown her around my home had warmed my insides. I’d bled and scraped for every penny that’d afforded me this luxury. I’d liked seeing her awed reaction to what I’d achieved. She understood that I could provide for her.
I much preferred her slack-jawed wonder to her fearful cringe at my touch. For her, I would try to be patient. I didn’t want to destroy the trust that I coveted so much; the utterly unfamiliar sense that someone saw something good in me. Marisol fulfilled my newfound obsession with that addictive feeling. I would make sure to keep it that way.
For now, that meant beating the shit out of something, forcing rigid metal to soften and bend into the shape I desired. A few hours in my workshop always calmed me. For most men, iron was unyielding, but I could fashion it into anything that pleased me.
My muscles burned by the time I finally dropped my hammer, but the physical labor had barely taken the edge off. My desire for Marisol persisted like an itch beneath my skin, an irritant that I couldn’t scratch away.
I swiped the back of my hand across my brow, wiping away thick beads of sweat before they could fall into my eyes. With a grunt of frustration, I started putting my tools back into their orderly places. I wouldn’t neglect my usual care for my possessions, no matter how frustrated I was.
Once everything was organized, I washed the grime from my hands and went to retrieve my watch and phone from their protective box, which kept them from getting sooty while I worked. The old watch was so battered that more damage would hardly be noticeable, but I always kept it in the exact condition it’d been in on the day I’d obtained it.
My palm itched at the reminder that sweet little Marisol had dared to steal my stepfather’s watch. Luckily, I’d found it at the pawn shop within half an hour of discovering that it was missing; it’d been my lead to follow the path of her flight to the bus stop.