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He kisses me hard, punishing, without mercy, with no regard for my injured lip which sears under his assault. And my god if it isn’t the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt. The pain and pleasure twist together making my head feel lightheaded and fuzzy.
I’m lost in the moment, in the feel of his hard body pressed against mine, in the taste of him on my tongue, that I don’t register the knock on my bedroom door until the loss of his touch snaps me from my lust riddled fog.
I gasp for air, my lungs burning like I’ve inhaled hot ash.
And then I find his eyes.
Dark. Dangerous. Full of desire.
A shiver runs through my entire body.
What the hell was that?
Another knock, this one causing me to jump slightly.
“Well,” Mateo licks his lips, slow and purposeful, “at least now I know how to shut you up.” A cocky smile slides across his mouth.
I can’t form words. Hell, I can’t even move. I’m too shocked and confused to form one coherent thought.
Without another word, Mateo turns and tugs open the door, disappearing into the hallway with Dimitri, who I catch a brief glimpse of before the door slams shut.
What the hell...
——
IT’S BEEN TWO DAYSsince I’ve seen Mateo.
Two days filled with an internal battle like I’ve never fought before.
After the effects of the kiss had worn off and my sanity returned, I couldn’t help but be angry at myself. Angry for letting him get away with hitting me, no matter what his reasons. Angry for allowing him to kiss me, which after much thought I decided likely meant jack squat to him. Angry for giving him the satisfaction of ruling nearly every thought I’ve had over the last forty-eight hours.
I’m just plain angry.
I go to sleep thinking about his dark eyes.
I dream of him on top of me, his weight pressed into me in the most delicious way.
I wake feeling frustrated with myself for not being able to shake whatever the hell is going on in my mind.
I’d be lying if I said Mateo didn’t do something to me. He does. With a simple look I swear I forget how to breathe sometimes. Before, I could separate the man he is on the exterior verses the man he is inside. A bad man. A monster. A man who abducts innocent women and uses them as bait.
But since that kiss? I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like he’s no longer part beauty and part beast. The two parts of him have melded together to create a much more complicated picture in my head.
His absence hasn’t helped.
On countless occasions I’ve wondered what that kiss meant. Why he did it. Why I was so overwhelmed by it. Why I can’t stop thinking about it. If he was thinking about it. If it felt the same for him as it did me. Why he’s been avoiding me since?
It’s like I went to bed a levelheaded adult and woke up a pubescent teenager who would be doodling Mrs. Mateo Rivera all over her notebooks if she had any.
And let’s not forget the fact that I’m still this man’s prisoner and he still intends on killing my father.
Everything about this situation is so fucked...
The ding of the kitchen timer snaps me from my thoughts and I grab the oven mitts off the counter before heading to the oven to retrieve the apple pie inside.
Baking therapy.
Whenever I’m upset or confused, baking is my go-to and Norma was kind enough to give me full access to her pantry to make whatever I wanted. As soon as I spotted the box of apples, I immediately got to work.
