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I toss the phone onto the passenger seat, knowing this is something I may end up regretting more than my brother. But I meant what I said about this being bigger than the Juventinos. If the person who wants Mateo dead is the man I think he is, and he gets his wish, then we will have much bigger problems than my tragic past and Miguel combined. The revenge for my family would have to wait.
Nineteen
Mateo
“Father…”
“Callate, Mateo. I have bigger problems waiting for me downstairs. I care to only deal with one issue at a time and don't have the patience for your little games today. Someone I’ve trusted has been stealing from me. Taking me as some fool. Is that what you take me for, Mateo? Should you be put down there too? Maybe it will help knock some sense into you.”
Shouts and yelps come from the bottom cellar. My father turns his back to me, making his way down the narrow stairway. As I turn to walk back to my room, loud music plays; it's the same song I heard earlier. It was a ploy my father used to get his victims to break. Shutting the door to my room, I stare at the double doors leading to my balcony. I pace back and forth in front of it, glancing at my clock, watching the seconds pass too slowly. Waiting until it is time to meet Gabriel at the same tree near the fountain. The place that has become ours.
Seconds turn into minutes and an hour later I am walking down the balcony stairs. In too much of a hurry from the excitement running in my veins to care if my feet were hitting the metal too loudly. It's dark and cold the same way it has been, but something seems different today. It’s quieter than usual. I walk toward the tree, hoping Gabriel will be there, but he isn't. I stand here alone under the quiet trees and even sounds of nature are absent.
I stand there for what seems too long and the night only grows colder. My watch reads an hour past the time we are supposed to meet. I shiver, pressing my body against the tree, seeking warmth from anywhere I could get it. As the night grows more wary, I head back inside with the sting of disappointment in my chest. My heart sinks at the thought of him not coming again tomorrow.
I turn on the shower until the water is nearly scorching hot before stripping off my clothes. Relaxing into the warm stream, I allow the hard water hitting the floor to drown out the thoughts in my head. I freeze underneath the shower steam when the glass door opens and closes. The fear I've become accustomed to hiding courses through my veins when the sound of wet footsteps get closer. I stand still, breathing heavily, waiting for whoever it is to make their next move. They press their hairy chest against my back, breathing in my hair. The smell of peppermint and blood saturates the air. He killed someone again. The water changes to red as it pools around my feet. Was it for me again? Is it bad that I want it to be?
“Miss me, princesa?”
I close my eyes, getting lost in his scent. He smells of peppermint, death and freedom. His hands are cold against the skin of my hips as he pulls me back against him. “This is how much I've missed you.”
His hard cock presses against the crease of my ass and my moans beg him to keep going. I keep my fingers spread out against the wall, knowing I'm not allowed to reciprocate his touches. My hands beg to squeeze around hard muscles, to move along the straining veins of his long, thick cock. But instead, they remain digging into the rough edges of the tile. Loud scratching noises fill the small space as my lower lip slips between my teeth to keep me from screaming when his long, thick finger slips inside my hole, pushing through my tight channel. My ass cheeks clench as he slips in the second finger and a soft whine escapes me.
“Silencio, my little princesa. You don't want them to hear us, do you?”
I shake my head, pressing it against the tile. I love it when he calls me his. And I love it when he has my body screaming in desperation and need. I suck in a breath as he moves his fingers in and out of me, leaving me to shake against the wall when they find my prostate. “Ahh, looks like I found your sweet spot. Feels good, doesn't it?”
He reaches around the front of me with his other hand, wrapping his fingers around my cock, giving it long, slow strokes. My hole tugs on his fingers when the overwhelming sensation has me arching my back and pressing my chest into the wall. “Ohhh.”
“Such sweet sounds you make. You are like my own personal instrument. I could play you all fucking night.”
Moans and whines slip from my mouth as he continues to drive me wild with his hands. Heat pulls at my belly and tiny prickles scatter along my skin. I become empty, and there’s a sudden loss when he slips his fingers out of me. There’s a clicking sound of a cap flipping open and snapping shut. Then instead of his fingers sliding back inside me, his hard, thick cock presses at my entrance. The intrusion has me biting my lip and I scratch at the tile. “Mmm.”
He plunges deeper, leaving a warm, throbbing sensation when fully inside. I let my back slump against his chest and his fingers wrap around my neck, pulling it back. It forces my head to drop on his shoulder as he fucks into me rough and fast. The driven passion and lust from the way he thrust his hips forward, and the way he grabs me, is completely different from the way he fucked me last time. My walls squeeze around him, every muscle in my body tightens, and my skin runs hot. He feels so much better without the condom. Nothing’s blocking my skin from touching his. It's so much more intense. So much more intimate. I'm a part of him right now and he's a part of me.
His cock is twitching inside me, filling me with warm liquid. I smile knowing I'll be carrying a part of him inside me even after he leaves. My own release comes in spurts, getting washed down the shower drain. He pulls out of me and I whimper from the ache and loss. I can't wait to have lunch with my fiancé tomorrow while having the leftover effects of Gabriel inside of me. While I sit across the table from Santiago, all I'll focus on is the wonderful dull ache left behind from Gabriel's large cock and the sticky cum coating the inside of my ass.
Gabriel presses a kiss into my hair and his lips linger there for a while. He has never kissed me before. It may have not been on the lips, but it still sent me so high, I was touching stars. It was more intimate than when he was inside of me. My gaze drops to my naked body and a rush of panic hits me when I remember my stomach is visible for him to see. All I had to do was turn away from the wall and that desire in his eyes may fade to disgust. I hug my front and quickly slide the glass door open and step out, nearly tripping on my wet feet. I don't waste time wrapping a towel around me after yanking it off the rack. The water stops running and Gabriel's wet feet slap against the floor. He lifts my face to reach his. “What's wrong, princesa?”
“I didn't want you to see me.”
He arches a brow. “But I've already seen you.”
I shake my head, water dripping down my face. “Not everywhere.”
His gaze drops to where the towel is. “What is it you don't want me to see?”
“It doesn’t matter. You got what you came for, right? You can go now, the same way you always do.”
He swallows hard, grabbing another towel from the rack behind me. “If that's what you want.”
The towel hangs low on his hips, and for the first time he is standing in front of me under bright lighting, almost on full display. He has tattoos everywhere. Birds, flowers and other things I can't fully make out. The ones on his legs are faded and covered in burn scars, nearly covering every part of the skin that was once there. More pink, marred flesh rests on his hips and other random parts of his body. “You see, Mateo, we all bear scars and imperfections. It's the part that sets us apart from the rest of the world. They are reminders of the things we overcome, and they are the most beautiful part of us. No part of you is anything to be ashamed of.”
Twenty
Gabriel
When Mateo pushed me away, my heart sank in my chest. I didn’t know if this was the last time we would see each other, and I wanted to make every second count by soaking up every touch. It took me a minute to realize he was hiding something from me. I left my scars visible for him to see. I hardly ever showed my scars to anyone. I never let anyone touch me, because the very thought of someone's fingers grazing my mauled flesh made my skin burn, forcing me to relive the nightmare all over again. I may have survived the fire, but I will forever carry a part of it with me.
