“I have zero interest in those men.” She rushes to defend herself, and then, as if thinking about the meaning of that request, she frowns. “Why is that of importance––if you don’t want me here or care about me?”
My lashes lower, dragging my gaze over the luscious expanse of her mouth. “There are animals in the jungle that will kill you. And I’ll kill you myself if I find you with another man.”
Her voice shakes. “Why?”
“For every second you're in my oasis, you belong solely to me.” She gasps as I run my fingers through the kinks of wet hair framing her inflamed scar. “The thing is, beija flor, you and I know there’s a flicker of intrigue between us. In normal circumstances, life might be different.” My fingertips trail the breadth of her throat, mindful of the essence of coconut and citrus lacing her skin. “As much as you won’t willingly admit it, you feel it too. It’s suffocating. Neither of us can deny this hypnotic curse.” Visible prickles flourish over her exposed skin when I lean in and whisper into her ear. “Why do I want you so much?”
She fights the compulsion to tip into me, breathing in soft bursts of feathery air. A slight crease dents her brow. “And why do I want you?” The midnight shade of her pupils oscillates with her open-ended reply.
I hate the way my pulse drums so damn powerfully, as if she’s the only life source with an ability to reward me with energy.
Even after everything I’ve put her through, she links her dainty fingers with mine and cautiously brings my thumb to her lips. Slipping the digit into her mouth, she pins mahogany eyes to mine and sucks softly. My erection turns to steel. I can barely breathe as the tenderness of her tongue embraces the ugliness of my punished skin tissue.
“You have my word, Dante. I’ll do as you ask.”
She used my name.
A Scottish lilt flows with the syllables, teasing the title from her lips with a distinct sound. New. Fresh. My heart lurches in a mindless panic. I swore I’d never allow lust to blind me.
I’m so fucked.
Letting go of my hand, she wades deeper, keeping her stare entangled with mine. My precious little hummingbird doesn’t look fragile. She’s intoxicating. Stunning. I’ve given her motivation to trust me.
“And you will keep your word?” she asks. The cavernous gap from her body to mine is punishment for free falling into her eyes.
I nod. “Yes, you have my word, beija flor.” Her hand splays over her chest, and a timid smile curls the corner of her mouth. She has a special gift of seduction, an unintentional look that signals to me. A regard that tells me too much. Her bottom lip slips between her teeth, and I liquify, then harden to stone.
I can’t stop myself launching for her, splashing us with urgency. She shivers when I jerk her closer, reclaiming my gravity. Clement water softens the force. Her breasts crush into my chest. Green eyes to dark brown. Nose to nose. Entwined together.
In this idiotic instant, I’m sorely tempted to kiss her. Rather than bring my lips to hers, I rotate her petite frame. Her ass to my groin. My teeth to her neck. Hungry hands snatch her narrow waist, and I navigate her quivering body to the side of the pool.
With her attention directed at the shadows of nature, I peel the nightdress up and over her head, flinging the garment behind me. The damp material slaps as it lands, making her flinch.
Her fingers spread-out when I sandwich her body between the aching erection in my boxer briefs and the mosaic wall. Along with thoughts of owning her comes the cruel lick of fickleness. The malicious forewarning of pending deception.
She’s not my enemy.
Just once.
Then I’m done with her.
My fingertips explore the supple dips of her torso. Not with romantic, caring sweeps––they dig into her hip bones, jab into her plump breasts, and seize the hairs close to her scalp. Firm. Aggressive. Wild. She cries out when my cock prods her buttocks, and I snarl into her ear. The sensation of touch catapults to hyperawareness. Silky skin turns bumpy with hot chills. I sense it all. I feel every visceral reaction.
It's more intense than the first time I skimmed her flesh.
More damaging.
I’m barely clinging to sanity when she groans again, flipping her hands behind her head to delve into my hair. As she tugs the lengths, the sharp bite flourishes across my shoulder blades with bumps of savage desire. Her back arches, allowing me to secure her throat and nip her earlobe.
I have to fuck her.
There’s no coming back from this.
My hands withdraw. I jiggle my underwear to my knees and wrangle them from my ankles. She attempts to turn into me. I clamp the back of her neck, preventing her lips from taunting me, keeping her vivid gaze away from the king toppling from his gilded throne. Her shoulders rise and fall with frustration.
“Kiss me, Dante.”
“Believe me, beija flor. Neither of us wants that.”
Hysteria hisses in my veins, her body feeding the delirium. Gliding a hand to her navel, I levitate her hips and guide my dick to her opening. She tenses every muscle as my feet plant wide, and I tease pleasure with the tip.
“Are you ready?” Am I ready?
“I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t want this, Dante,” she pants. “And I won’t lie to you.”
I jolt at her statement. A thick grunt signals my struggle to breathe as I shunt inside her, unforgiving, unprotected, and violent. The precise moment her walls close around me, I lose it all.
What she wants in a kiss, I show her with firm hands. A grip so intense that it’s taken away my wits. She winces when I penetrate her cervix. My stamina slaps and smacks the lazy fluid encasing us from the waist down. No longer is there space separating me from paradise. It’s here. In this woman. Not in the jungle, where the animals hold their tongues and turn a blind eye to my actions. It’s in every spasm, every ridge, and every breath.
I cradle her chin with my palm, crashing her head back to the crook of my neck. My hands flame, trapped under hers, as I enter her body so vigorously that my teeth clench. The sparks from her skin to mine cause deeper burns than my injuries.
Her orgasm catches fire.
My spine tingles.
I sink my teeth into her shoulder as my balls cramp.
I claim this woman with my seed.
I own her with a possessive snare.
And then I let her go.
19
Iris
I’ve strayed into a remote land.
Hidden under a canopy, blocking out sunlight.
Navigating twisted vines and complicated terrain.
I’m lost in the musky jungle.
And that jungle is my master.
El Fantasma.
Dante.
He’s the wilderness luring me to a promised land.
Water vines restricting my shins.
Lush foliage screening my sight.
A wrangle of mossy complexities.
Dense undergrowth keeping me hidden.
A tropical lagoon, refreshing and crisp.
A sleek jaguar, dangerous and deadly.
And I am falling.
There isn’t a comprehensible reason for my actions. Somehow, I’ve invited lust to shake hands with my antagonist. He’s threatened and ravaged, deleted and restored, but most of all, he’s revealed a side to him that snipped back his prickly branches.