Page 78 of No Darker Temptation

We make our way to the bed and it turns into a warzone. Scattered clothes, grunts of agony and pleasure, a tangle of limbs as we fight over who gets to be on top. Somehow, I manage to straddle his hips first and I ride him like a woman possessed, deep, cruel thrusts in rapid succession sending him so deep inside me I feel it in the pit of my stomach. When he tries to roll us over I apply pressure to his cracked ribs and keep him pinned to the mattress where he lets out a strangled moan. I know he’s in pain—the excruciating kind—but I can’t stop. The illusion of control has me in its snares and I can’t let it slip away.

Seconds away from climax, he manages to catch me in the grips of ecstasy and flips us over. Neither of us says a word. I’m too afraid to move, too turned on to want to fight back. We don’t even kiss each other.

He lays claim to my body like it belongs to him. There’s something so demeaning about that—having another person take control of you. The worst part is I let him. Alejandro lifts one of my legs, spreading me wide, baring all to his ravenous gaze. He thrusts harder and deeper than before, punishing me in the way he feels I’ve punished him the past week with my silence.

And perhaps I have.

Alejandro knows every intimate secret of my body and he hits a place inside of me that hurts so good I start sobbing. I carve angry, bleeding lines down the length of his back with my sharp nails, relishing the look on his face every time he winces from the pain. The orgasm builds and builds to an earth-shattering crescendo I know neither of us has ever felt before. I scream and he says my name as we barrel toward release. And when it finally ends, I know there’s no way in Hell they didn’t hear us all the way in the cockpit.

Alejandro pulls out of me and the sound of slick skin fills the otherwise empty room. So as not to crush me under his weight, he rolls over and collapses on the other side of the bed, wincing with discomfort as he goes. All I can hear for minutes afterward is the sound of our breathing.

“Dahlia. Dahlia,” he whispers again, voice catching at the end in a way I have never heard it before. “I love you. I don’t…I can’t…”

I turn my head to face him.

“This has been the worst week of my life. I can’t function, I can’t think, I can’t do anything if we aren’t okay. I feel so off balance, so uncentered. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dahlia.”

“Alex…”

“Tell me what I can do to fix it. Tell me what’s really on your mind, tell me something. Anything⁠—”

“I’m sorry,” I say because it’s all I can think of. The outline of his face blurs behind fresh tears. I’ve never cried so much in my entire life. “I’m sorry.”

It’s too late for me to choose a different path and if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t. I love him.

I love him, I love him, I love him.

This is it for me, this is my life now. Being with him in Barcelona and all that comes with it; his family, their business, and the underground empire too. One cannot be had without the other. My old life is over and I need to mourn it and let go because if I don’t, it’ll haunt our relationship for the rest of our lives.

What he does to other people doesn’t matter. I console myself. What matters is he would never do that to you.

With that thought alone, the taut wire that once held and stretched my ethics as far as they could logically go, snaps in half. The glass on my moral compass shatters and I bury both those things because going forward, in order to survive in his world, I cannot have either holding me back.

I sit up and move across the bed, taking his face into my hands.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I whisper against his mouth. I kiss wherever he’ll let me, for however long he’ll allow me. “Please, I’m not angry.”

Eagerly, he kisses me back and slips a hand into my hair. As he sits up, he flinches abruptly and hisses through his teeth.

I pull away. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Come back.” He kisses my lips then across my jaw, down my neck.

“Stop it. Alex—” I let out an embarrassing sound when his mouth travels further south and I feel his teeth clamp around my nipple. “We should stop.”

“Like Hell we are. Get on your back.”

I do as he asks but only because it’s so distracting when he’s touching me like this. I was rough on purpose and I know he’s struggling to breathe properly. He should be taking painkillers and resting right now.

“I’m serious, you’re in pain⁠—”

“I don’t give a shit. Open your legs.”

Of course, I obey.

This is ecstasy. This is heaven. He knows exactly where to kiss, where to touch, the forbidden places to put his tongue, the sensitive spots that need massaging and suction. I orgasm twice before he decides it’s time to make his way back up my body and by then I’m over stimulated and have had enough.

I shake my head when I feel his erection pushing inside me. “I can’t. I…I feel…”