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Vicenta is fitting right in.
My smile drops. I don’t want her to fit in. I want her to become so unwanted that Marío casts her off, leaving my chance open.
I close the door to my room, locking it behind me and ignoring the familiar touches of my mother. This was her bedroom before she died. She rarely slept in here, but it was her own private sanctuary when she needed space from everything. As a child, I was very close to her. I understood her more than I did my father. To Marío, I was his legacy. To Natalia, I was her love. Her devotion. It’s because of her strength and power that I am who I am today. My father raised me to be amafioso, but my mom raised me to be a wise man. I take great pride in who I am because I know it was her doing more than my father’s.
Don’t get me wrong, Marío is a brilliant leader, but he was nothing without the power and status of Natalia Vasco.
She was a very distant relative of the Herrera cartel, about six cousins removed. However, her marriage to my father meant more than power or status to him. He actually loved her, which is why her photos still decorate the house, her room remains untouched, and her clothes still hang in the closet. Even five years later, Marío continues to hang on to her ghost.
War between our two families stopped the moment Marío and Natalia fell in love, but a month after she was put into the ground, our rivalry with the Herrera Cartel rekindled like two bitter lovers meeting once again.
Though, things were already beginning to turn down that road before she died.
I walk into the closet that connects to the next room. I’ve never known if this design was known to my father or not, nor did I ever care to ask him, but I’m grateful for it now.
It opens to the west wall of Vicenta’s room, the seams covered by the decorative molding. When it’s closed, it looks just like a regular wall. I walk across the bedroom, quickly ducking behind the ornate mirror when Lupita knocks.
She places bags on the bed before leaving the room once more. I walk over to the chairBrujaused to block the door and shove it under the knob silently before moving to the open bathroom door. Steam fogs the mirror, but it doesn’t block out the sound of her sighed curse.
I step inside to see her sliding a hand between her legs, and I grow hard in seconds.
I’m riveted by her. Obsessed with her. Desperate for her.
I need to let her go, move on from the impossibility of having her for myself, but she's my addiction. Sweeter than wine, hotter than spice, more sinuous than a master seductress.
She’s off limits to me, a rule I can’t break, and that makes her all the more enticing.
When I snuck into her room last night after listening to her cry for hours, something inside me snapped and shifted. She’s the limit I will push. She’s the rule I will break.
I will make her my secret, keeping my covetousness for her a hidden desire for as long as I can breathe.
I watch her hand pump between her legs, my own fingers aching to do the job for her. Her other hand slaps against the tiles before she spins in place and leans back, her body arching and her eyes closed as her climax reaches for her like a crashing wave.
When I’m sure she’ll open her eyes and see me, I move back into the bedroom and wait for her.
The second she steps through the threshold with a towel wrapped around her body, I’m on her. I grab her from behind, covering her mouth with my hand when she screams.
“Only I am allowed to make you come like that,mi brujaita.”
Spinning her around to face me, I shove her down onto the bed, her wet hair splaying out around her like a dark halo. That wicked little smile curls her beautiful lips as she slowly sits up, her heated eyes sliding down my body until they land on the hard ridge of my dress pants.
I watch her with need and curiosity when her fingers deftly undo my belt before sliding my zipper down.
“Then make me come, Alvaro.”
Knowing I only have a short time with her, I growl and rip the towel from her divine body, diving head first into her sweet little cunt. She drops back, her neck arching as she stifles her moans with her hand. I pull myself free and climb over her, hating the clothes I still wear, and slam my mouth to hers.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes,” she says, pulling my face back down to hers.
Good, I think to myself as she moans when she tastes herself on my tongue.
I line myself up and slam into her roughly, swallowing her cries as I quicken my pace. This is going to be fast and rough, just how I like it, and judging by how well she responds to me, I know she loves it too.
I move back onto my knees, pulling her legs over my shoulders and pressing on her lower stomach.
“Don’t make a sound,Bruja.”
