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“Okay, I’m going to pull. It’s going to hurt, but it will be worse if you resist me.”
He smirks. “The irony.”
I inhale and release it, doing my best not to show I’m scared too. “Ready?”
“No.”
“Good. Deep breath…” I wait until I see his chest lower, and I pull slowly but powerfully. “Breathe,” I repeat when he shuts his eyes and gasps from the pain.
After another rise and drop of his chest, I pull again. This time, I feel the tell-tale clunk of his shoulder sliding back into position.
He swallows audibly, his mouth parting as his lids open and he stares at the ceiling. A single tear slides over his temple, disappearing into his hair line. “Pinche mierda.”
I stifle a giggle because I’ve never heard him curse. But I don’t think he’d appreciate my laughter right now. “Sit up.” Using his shirt as a makeshift sling, I secure his arm to his side. “How does it feel?”
Moving it cautiously, he nods. “It’s already better.”
“We should find some ice and ibuprofen.”
Sweat beads on his brow, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. “We can’t leave this room yet.”
“It’s important. The swelling will be worse if we don’t.”
“Not now.”
“Esteban, I can go get it. You stay—”
“I said no!” He rises abruptly, nearly shoving me aside as he moves to stand by the old pine dresser across the way. Through the mirror that hangs above it, his reflection shows me the anger on his face. Anger that wasn’t there a few moments ago. Or maybe I just didn’t notice it.
“It would just take—”
“You stupid, foolish girl,” he cuts me off again, his tone low and dark and menacing. “Or is it me who’s the fool for believing you were mature enough for me?”
His harsh words take me aback. “What?”
“Do you not see the danger in what you do?” He glances up, pinning me to my spot with his glare. “There is someone out there who knows what I did and that you’re with me. We have no idea where they are, and until we do, everyone is a danger to us. Do you truly not see that?”
“I—”
“Just like you didn’t see the danger in playing with the big boys. So you want to be a journalist and expose every cartel criminal you set your sights on.” He’s in front of me so fast, I almost stumble as I move backward until the wall hits my back. Fury turns his brown eyes black, his pupils dilated as he towers over me.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, pressing my hand to his chest in a sad attempt to keep some distance.
Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he drags my arm out from between us, securing it tightly by my side as he presses into me. I try to yank myself free, but there’s no give. My gaze suddenly falls upon the fallen button-up shirt, and to my horror, I realize he’s holding me with his injured arm.
I look at him, and he smiles in a way that sounds off every warning bell in my head. “But…but you’re hurt.” My voice comes out small and unsure.
“Yet you still don’t comprehend the danger I pose to you. That any of us do. You flit about in your pursuit of justice, not imagining how truly lucky you are that you haven’t been caught. Do you know what would have happened if I hadn’t reached you in time? Lorenzo would have raped you, then killed you, all within a few yards from hundreds of people.”
The gruesome vision he paints washes me in a deep cold. “I didn’t know he’d follow me. I didn’t even see who you were talking about.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy trying to escape the situation you put yourself in instead of facing the consequences like a grown-up.”
Despite the fact that I should be afraid, and that he’s partly right, his continued insinuation that I’m immature begins to rankle. “I’m not a child, Esteban.”
“Yes, you are.”
I tilt my chip upward and stare at him dead-on. “You don’t touch me like I’m a child.”
“Is that so?” His gaze narrows almost imperceptivity, then as if something inside him shifts, his lips tug upward into a predatory grin. The hold he has on me tightens and he presses himself harder into me as he says, “What I should do is put you over my knee and spank your sweet ass.” This is when I become aware of the rigid length of his dick digging into me. His stare intensifies, morphing into something else, something hot and hungry but just as terrifying.
But instead of making me back down, it eggs me on. “Try it, and you’ll see exactly how grown up I really am.”
His grin widens. “I believe I will.” Before I can say another word, he practically hauls me toward the bed.
“What are you do— Esteban!” I screech when he sits and unceremoniously plops me onto his lap, his left hand still grasping my wrist firmly. The wind is knocked out of me when my stomach makes contact with his lap, and I regain my breath just in time to gasp as my pants are dragged over my ass. I reach behind me with my free hand, covering myself, shutting my eyes as I expect that first slap on my butt.
But it doesn’t come.
What I receive instead is a soft caress, his warm palm skimming my bottom gently even as his hold on my wrist tightens. “You aren’t a child, Aurora,” he says gruffly, moving his hand over my crack, his fingers delving between my cheeks. He slides them over my anus, then moves farther to my slit. “I’m very much aware you’re a woman. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t do this.”
I shut my eyes as an involuntarily moan escapes me when he inserts one long finger between my folds, hating that even in anger, he makes my body react. “Jesus,” I whisper and try to pull from his hold, but he won’t relent. His grasp remains tight, and his finger stays imbedded inside me.
In and out, he moves over the spot he knows so well, creating an exquisite pressure that quickly drives me into a frenzy. Then, abruptly, he stops, leaving me panting and confused.
But before the flame he’s ignited between my legs ebbs, he starts his torture anew. This time, his strokes are more powerful, and he uses two fingers to stoke the flame while at the same time, his thumb circles my clit. I arch my back, pressing myself into his hand as my desperation for release grows.
Then he stops, and I cry out in frustration. “What are you doing?! Is this some sort of punishment?”
He laughs, though I don’t believe he finds it funny in the least. “Punishment? No. This is to show you how you make me feel. I wanted to give you everything, Aurora. Happiness, pleasure.” He presses the heel of his hand over my pussy, and I shake my head in an attempt to negate the desire that sweeps over me. “And now I don’t know what I want more. To destroy you or to give in to my need for you.”
In silence, he continues to play with my pussy, torturing me as much as he is himself. All the while, I too struggle with the same exact emotions, straddling the line between what I despise and what I desperately want. Unable to move in either direction.
Suddenly, he releases my hand. For a moment, I assume he’s done with me, and I attempt to stand. But I’m dead wrong.
I’ve barely had time to lift off him when he pushes me down onto the mattress. Catching myself on my hands, I look over my shoulder to see him undoing his belt, and in one motion, he removes it from the loops and tosses it aside. His gaze is dark and intense, boring into me as he opens his fly and pulls out his hard cock.
Everything about him screams danger and fury, and for a second, he scares me. I attempt to scramble up and get away from him, but he’s faster. Before I can so much as sit up, he’s wrapped an arm around my chest and lifted me so that my back is pressed against him.
He nudges his dick between my legs as he brings his mouth close to my ear. “Aurora,” he whispers, and I sink into him a little. “You’re driving me insane.” Dropping his head, he bites the sensitive skin of the crook of my neck with enough force to make me jerk.
I wrap my hands around his forearm and dig my nails into it, wanting him to feel the sting too. “I hate you.”
“Do you?” His free hand roves downward, his fingers easily finding my clit still swollen as he slides his cock from between my inner thighs and back, skimming the slit of my pussy but not penetrating me. “Then ask me to stop.”
He bites me again and again, his mouth moving from my ear to my shoulder. With each scrape of his teeth against my skin, my arousal increases and the fog over my brain thickens.
“I…” My refusal dies on my lips when he brings his hand upward, under my shirt. Without care, he tugs down on my bra until my right breast pops out. He cups it, then pinches my nipple, kneading it until I feel it harden beneath his deft fingers.
“Tell me to stop.” It comes out as an order, demanding me to put an end to this thing he’s doing while at the same time making it impossible for me to do so.
“I…”
