“I’m not scared of you.” The admission tumbled from my lips, high and thin. His aggression should’ve terrified me, but it was the pain that darkened his eyes that shredded me. “I’m scared of me.”
The lines around his eyes drew deeper, and his snarl retreated to a scowl. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t trust myself.” I stared up at him, beseeching. “I have this…dark force inside me. It makes me lose myself. When I give in to it, bad things happen.”
His heavy brows drew together. “Bad things. Are you talking about what happened with that fucker, Gehovany? What he did wasn’t your fault.”
My throat constricted. “But it was. My parents warned me that he was a bad man, but I didn’t listen. I was selfish and weak. My reckless desire clouded my mind, and my mother died because of it. I fell for a dangerous man, and my family paid for my sin in blood. I can’t trust myself when I feel like this, when I want like this.” I said the last on a pained whisper, confessing the ugliest parts of my soul.
Raúl’s face hardened to stone, and he recoiled from me as though I’d burned him. “Dangerous man.” Acid dripped from my echoed description, burning a hole through my heart.
Too late, I realized what I’d done. The hurtful words had lashed at him, and I couldn’t take them back.
“You think I’m like him? You think I’m like the bastard who killed your mother; the man who abused you and drove you away from the safety of your home and your family?”
“No!” I had to make this right. Even though I had hidden fears that his criminal nature meant he was like Gehovany, I couldn’t bear to see him so wounded, as though I’d driven a knife into his heart. “I don’t think you’re like him. I know you would never hurt me like he did. But when I got together with him, I didn’t realize he was involved in a gang, and—”
“Just like me, you mean?” His harsh bark was edged with anguish. “No, not like me,” he spat. “What my cartel does is so much worse than any gang. I kill people for money. I kill them for power. I’ve just been pretending with you, but you’ve seen me for what I really am all along: evil.”
“No! Raúl, no. That’s not what I think. You’re not evil.” He had to believe me. “It’s true that I’ve struggled with the fact that you’re involved with the cartel.” He wouldn’t accept an outright lie. All I could do was be completely honest with him. “And yes, I’ve worried that I can’t trust my judgment right now. I don’t think you’re like Gehovany. I don’t!” I insisted more vehemently when he opened his mouth to argue.
“I’m not afraid for myself. I am not afraid of you, Raúl.” I spoke the promise with such fervor that yearning momentarily flickered in his eyes.
A heartbeat later, they shuttered again, protecting him from the storm raging between us.
I pressed on, determined to break through his walls and allay the pain I’d inflicted.
“I’m afraid that if I selfishly give in to this dark force within me—this wild desire that scares me as much as it thrills me—the people I love will get hurt again. Not by your hand,” I interjected firmly. “But your cartel is dangerous. The men you work with are dangerous. People I love could be targeted because I’m with you. I can’t be responsible for that. I can’t have anyone else die because of me.”
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I pushed up off the table to reach for him. He yanked his hand away, but I snatched his wrist. As soon as our skin made contact, he stilled. He could’ve broken free from my weak grip so easily. Physically, I couldn’t hold him here if he wanted to leave.
But my frail fingers seemed to bind him as effectively as iron chains. His nostrils flared on deep, beastly breaths, and a low, continuous growl sounded at the back of his throat; the warning of a wounded predator.
Despite my hammering heartbeat, I resolutely took a step toward him, closing the distance between us until his body heat pulsed against my skin.
I lifted his hand and pressed his palm to my cheek. “I trust you, Raúl. I know you won’t hurt me. I just need some time to process all this. Please. I need you to understand. I…I care about you.” I turned my face into his hand, and a hot tear trailed over his thick fingers.
His thumb caught the next tear, brushing over my cheekbone with the reverent tenderness that melted my heart. His deep green eyes were still tight with pain, but they no longer glinted like hard, polished jade.
“Marisol…” He rasped my name like a prayer, the only word he seemed capable of offering.
It was more than enough. I’d hurt him in the worst way, but this powerful, savage man was making himself vulnerable with me.
I wrapped my free hand around the back of his neck and went up on my tiptoes, seeking a kiss. He lowered his head with a groan, meeting me halfway.
The kiss was tender, reassuring. As my lips caressed his, I traced the contours of his bulging muscles, silently communicating my appreciation for his strength. I wanted him to feel how much comfort I found in his powerful body; I didn’t fear his imposing musculature. He used his strength only to protect me, never to threaten.
I wanted to show him that I meant every word I’d said.
I didn’t fear him, and I never would. He was nothing like Gehovany, and I desperately needed to erase any festering doubts that might linger in his mind after our difficult conversation.
I still needed more time to sort through my feelings about his involvement with the cartel, but that meant keeping myself in check, not him. He’d respected all my boundaries, even when he’d been seconds away from burying his thick cock in my pussy and finally sating himself.
Ever since our intense scene in the woods, we hadn’t taken our physical intimacy further. We touched each other freely, but I hadn’t yielded more.
Raúl wasn’t a man of many words. He needed actions to truly hear me. I would show him how much I trusted him; how much I wanted him, even if I wasn’t ready to fully trust myself.
Bracing my hands at his hips, I broke our kiss and slowly sank to my knees, keeping my eyes locked on his as I settled into the submissive position.
His nostrils flared like a predator scenting his prey, and his eyes blazed.
I reached for his belt, easing his shirt up for better access. When my fingers brushed over his bare skin, his muscles rippled and danced beneath my touch. I leaned forward and pressed a reverent kiss to his abs.
“Marisol.” He groaned my name, and his calloused fingertips trailed through my hair.
I captured him in my gaze once again. “I trust you, Raúl.” My fingers trembled as I reached for his belt, but my voice was steady. “Do you trust me?”
He gave me a solemn nod and a low hum; a primal response from deep in his soul.
Warmth settled in my chest as the last of the tension between us cleared away. Our relationship was complicated, but that didn’t mean we had to be cruel when difficult subjects came up. We cared about one another.
I knew he would never hurt me. I wanted to promise him the same.
This vulnerable position I’d put myself in—this act of giving—quieted my mind. As I freed his cock from his jeans, the desire I’d so brutally denied us both pulsed back to life.