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Hearts Of Darkness (The Santiago Trilogy Book 1) Page 13
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I force a grim smile to my lips. “You’ve been doing your homework.”
“I was… concerned.”
“Concerned enough to send someone to spy on me?”
That wipes the smirk off his face.
“Fear not brother, that particular problem has been taken care of.”
“Dante…”
“I told you to leave me alone!” I snarl, bringing my hand down hard on the table. The noise rebounds around the patio as his men reach for their weapons.
“Stand down,” he yells at them.
No one says a word as he reaches into his inside pocket, pulls out a small vial and tips the milky-white powder onto the knuckle of his left thumb. Two sharp snorts and he’s done, and so am I. I make to stand up. If I leave now I can be back in Eve’s bed before dawn.
“Dante stop,” says Emilio, rubbing the back of his hand across his face. “I did you wrong, baby brother. I broke the rules too. Stay. Let’s fix this.”
I stare down at him and for the first time I see a shadow of the real tempest raging behind his eyes. He wants to pull rank on me, to belittle and humiliate me in front of his men, but he’s too afraid to do it. I’m unpredictable, dangerous… and I’m the only one who can bring his house of cards tumbling down to the ground.
His insecurity has deep-seated roots in this subtle balance of power between us. This isn’t about Eve, or who or what her father is. It’s because I never put a toe out of line until she turned up. I was content to let him run the show just as long as my bloodlust was satisfied. He’s been sitting pretty at the head of the family for the last fifteen years because I allowed him to. But I’m not following his orders anymore. From now on he doesn’t get to question my motives for anything. And if he doesn’t agree?
Then it’s time for a regime change.
17
Eve
I return to the field early the next morning but the grey horse is gone. Is this Dante’s doing? Is he punishing me for speaking to that guard yesterday? My heart feels heavy with all the unresolved conflict. I crave his touch but I despise him as a man, as a criminal. He keeps me starved of affection, locks me away, fuels my deepest fantasies and now it seems I’m hooked. I believed my own words when I said that what I felt for him was little more than a sick sentiment a captive feels for her captor. The thing is I’m not so sure anymore. His absence is making me question everything.
There’s a red apple swinging between my fingertips. I managed to sneak it out of Sofía’s kitchen before I left. Disappointed not to find the grey, I take a couple of bites out of it as I follow the road that runs parallel to the paddock fence. Yesterday I caught a glimpse of a building on the horizon and I figured it might be a stable block or some kind of outhouse for the horses. I’d wanted to take a closer look before that irritating American guy had accused me of troublemaking and marched me back to the house. I’m curious as to how he came to be here too but intuition tells me I’ll get nothing from him. That man is as closed-off as Dante.
Palm trees line my way, their great green leaves rustling overhead. Unfamiliar insects drum out their noisy chorus. It’s 9am and already the heat and humidity are stifling. I’m wearing the coolest, loosest dress I could find in my wardrobe. White silk with crossover straps and sinfully sexy, like all the other clothes he’s bought me. It’s cut exquisitely, just right for my figure, creating a deep valley between my breasts.
This is the furthest I’ve ever been on his land. Dante’s mysterious warehouses are now a series of dark silhouettes behind me but they’re no less bleak and unfriendly, even at this distance. Every day I seem to discover a new dimension to this place, and as the road gently curves to the right I spot the glinting tarmac of an airstrip and a vast grey hanger situated about half a mile away.
The stables turn out to be much larger and grander than I expected. I pass by under an arch of cream stone and find myself in an immaculate U-shaped open-air block. I count ten stalls in total and most are occupied, the great grey, Tramposa, being one of them. He’s leaning his head over his stall door and flickering his ears back and forth in my direction again so I make my way over and run my hand up and down his mane.
“We meet again, handsome,” I smile, sliding the palm of my hand the full length of his nose.
“Say that to any other male and they’ll be trouble.”
Tramposa whickers in recognition as Dante leans over the stable door beside me. I can only gaze at him in shock. He’s wearing a grey shirt and blue jeans that hang low off his hips and there’s a five o’clock shadow grazing that perfect jaw of his. There’s no hint of an explanation for his two-day disappearance but I stop caring when he turns his head my way and I see my desire mirrored back to me, tenfold, in those hard brown eyes.
“I didn’t hear your plane land,” I mutter, offering up the remains of my apple up to Tramposa who takes it with a whicker, plunging his velvet muzzle into my outstretched palm again. “When did you get back?”
“Early this morning.”
“And you didn’t think to come find me?”
His lips twist at the accusation in my voice. “I had important business to attend to, and you, mi alma, are all pleasure…” His gaze drops to my cleavage and a shiver ripples through me.
“How was the trip?”
“Fuck the trip.” Grabbing me by the arm, he pulls me into an empty stall next door and pins me against the wall by his hips. He doesn’t move to kiss me. Instead, he wraps his fingers around my throat, squeezing gently but with obvious intent, holding my whole life in his hands. If he increases the pressure it will all be over in seconds and the thrill of that knowledge sends electric pulses straight to my pelvis.
“Did he flirt with you?” he murmurs.
“Who?” I lie.
“That guard… Manuel.” His lips curl in distaste.
“He wasn’t flirting with me. We were just chatting.”
A low growl escapes his lips. “I’ll slit this throat. Would you like to watch, my angel, and see what happens to strange men who talk to you behind my back?”
I’m really scared now. The light has completely vanished from his eyes. “Dante, stop… you’re being reasonable!”
“He disrespected me. I need to set an example.”
“No you don’t, you just like throwing your weight around!”
His fingers tighten. White spots keep dancing before my eyes.
“Follow my rules too, Eve, or suffer the consequences.”
“So I’m to live a life of quiet solitude?” I gasp. “I’m not allowed to speak to anyone in this shitty place for fear of your total overreaction?” I try to wrench his hands from my throat but it’s no good. As soon as my fingers touch his skin that pull of electricity seems to fuse us together.
“Not unless I allow it,” he murmurs, inching closer until we’re chest to chest, the burning heat of his erection nudging against my lower stomach. The scent of him, so potent and heady, is overpowering the strong smell of the stable.
“Get on your knees,” he orders suddenly, his expression sparking with lust. “I want to fuck your mouth.”
“Screw you!” I twist my head away but his words are like a lit match to my core. The muscles in the back of my legs are already flexing. I’m so close to doing what he’s demanding of me. Only my pride is yanking on the brakes.
“I don’t ask twice for anything, Eve.”
“And I don’t acquiesce to your every demand like some damn prostitute!”
He glares at me, rage contorting his beautiful features. “Goddammit!” he roars, dropping his hands from my throat. I can feel the frustration vibrating throughout his body. He wants to force me but he can’t bring himself to do it.
Have I spotted a dim light glinting in the shadows?
“Give me something in return,” I whisper. “You take and take from me all the time. You’ve robbed me of my freedom, my family, my homeland … Give me your promise that one day you’ll set me free and I’ll drop to my knees
right now.”
“Negotiating like a true whore.” His mouth twists scornfully. “You’re a walking contradiction, Eve. You surpass yourself every day.”
“You’re wrong, Dante. I’m negotiating like a woman trying to stay alive. What do you really want from me? You can’t love me. You’re not capable of it. In a few days or months you’ll tire of this body. I can’t live my life waiting for that axe to fall. I’ll kill myself long before then.”
His eyes are gleaming pools of darkness now. “I will never let you do that but you ask too much. I’ve told you what will happen if you return to America.”
“Then protect me like you’re protecting my parents.”
He shakes his head. “You’re mine now, Eve. You belong by my side. I will never let you go.”
I stare at him as a glimmer of an idea takes hold inside.
“Fine, whatever,” I mutter, my head slumping forward in defeat. “I’ll do whatever you want.” As I say it I drop to my knees, the impact cushioned by the thick bed of straw carpeting the stall, and reach for his belt, untucking the thick brown leather from the copper buckle. He doesn’t move to stop me. I’m playing a dangerous game here and it could all so easily backfire.
With his belt undone, I go to start on his zipper.
“No,” he says sharply, jerking his hips away. “I take it back, you are not a whore, Eve Miller, and I refuse to treat you as such.”
I suppress a smile before glancing upwards. His hands are resting on the wall above my head and I can tell it’s taking every ounce of his strength to honor his words and hold himself back. It’s a stance of power but it’s also one of concession. I was right. There is some small part of this man that cares for me. I’m not just his possession anymore.
“Will you let me go?”
“Never.”
The force of his word brings hopeless tears to my eyes. “Please, Dante…”
There’s a long pause. “Perhaps a short visit could be arranged sometime in the future.”
My heart surges as I feel his hands under my arms, lifting me to my feet. It’s not what I’d hoped for but it’s a start.
“Don’t think I’m blind to what you’ve just done, Eve,” he murmurs, cupping my jaw in his strong hands. “It’s been a long time since I let someone back me into a corner.”
“I would have let you fuck my mouth with or without your assurance.”
His eyes widen in surprise as I drop to my knees again and tug down the rest of his zipper. Gripping the base of his cock I take him deeply into my mouth before he has a chance to stop me. My experience is limited but I must be doing it right because he groans loudly as I slide him right to the back of my throat. Pumping my fist up and down his shaft, I risk another glance upwards. He’s staring down at me with a mixture of rage and admiration on his face.
“You deceived me, my angel.”
I let him slide wetly from mouth. “No disrespect intended, Dante. If you let me visit America I’ll do whatever you ask of me. I won’t fight you anymore.”
“Whatever I ask…?”
I chance a quick grin at him. “You’ll take it regardless. You’ll find a way. I’m learning how to operate from the best, remember?”
He growls his approval. “Then slide my cock into your mouth again, my angel. Tip that balance of power. I’ll be sure to take it back again in a few minutes.”
I hesitate. “Am I doing it right?”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yes, Eve. Just don’t fucking stop until I tell you to.”
I feel a hand on the nape of my neck guiding me back towards him. The head of his cock eases between my lips and my tongue swirls and sucks at this welcome intruder. He curses in Spanish and starts to thrust into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat with another groan.
“Damn, you’re good. Keep those soft lips wrapped tightly around me, my angel. Don’t let up for a second.”
I do exactly as he says. I don’t stop even when his fingers are digging painfully in my hair and my scalp is screaming in protest. My other hand is resting lightly on his waist and I can feel his muscles straining to keep some semblance of control. He tips his head back and grinds his hips into my mouth again. My jaw is starting to ache but I’m so turned on I couldn’t stop now if I tried. A low grumble escapes his lips as the hand on the wall above me scrunches into a fist.
“Fuuuuuck.”
Moments later his cum is coating my throat and tongue. I swallow quickly as he drags me to my feet again and crushes my lips to his own. “That was quite something, my angel. Did you like me fucking your mouth?”
“Yes,” I whisper. He’s my devil tempting me into his darkness. He’s awakening every dormant sense and emotion.
“I want to stake a claim over every fucking part of you. You mouth, your cunt, your ass…” He pushes me up against the wall and slides the palms of his hands up the back of my thighs, gathering up my dress, and hooking his thumbs into the lace of my panties.
“How many men have you been with?”
“Two,” I moan, throwing my head back as he trails hot, wet kisses all the way across my exposed throat, administering pleasure to the marks left by his fingertips.
“Then they’re dead already.”
He silences my protestations with a deep, possessive kiss and I feel my panties disintegrate in his hands. Will I ever own an item of clothing that this man doesn’t rip from my body?
“Turn around,” he orders, releasing me suddenly.
I do as he says. At the same time I feel my dress being pulled up further around my hips, exposing me from the waist down.
“That’s quite a sight, Eve Miller,” I hear him whistle, running his hand over my bare ass cheek. “Now put your hands on the wall in front of you.”
Dark delights inflame my senses. I press my palms into the rough stone, my whole body aching with need as he traces a finger all the way from the middle of my spine right down through the crease of my ass and further before plunging two fingers inside of me. My sex convulses at this rough intrusion coupled with his sharp intake of breath.
“So wet for me, my angel… I think we can work with this.”
He removes his fingers and retraces his path, pausing over the darkest, most forbidden of entrances and gentle massaging my wetness into the soft skin there. I flinch away but he reprimands me with a sharp smack on my ass.
“Don’t move unless I say so.”
“But I don’t–”
“Hush,” he chides. “I’m not planning on hurting you but I will if you don’t listen to me.” His finger is becoming more insistent.
“But I’ve never–”
“Trust me.”
I can’t. He’s too big and I’m starting to panic... It feels so good though, so illicit. I find myself quickly adapting to this new sensation. At the same time my body yields to him and he slides his finger all the way into me. I cry out in surprise and pain, his short nail scratching at my tender insides. “Oh my god that hurts.”
“Accept it, my angel,” he croons. “The pain will soon turn to pleasure.”
He’s right. The more he works me like this the more compliant I’m becoming. He reaches round with his other hand to lightly circle my clitoris, making me shudder and gasp. Every nerve feels conquered and swollen, yet strangely satisfied. One finger becomes two, stretching, pleasing, delving into the wetness below and then reapplying. After a while I feel something larger pushing at me there.
“Dante, no!” I cry, panicking again, trying to twist my body away but I’m pinned in place by his hands and his cock.
“Relax,” he hisses, breaching my final resistance to him, working himself into me inch by inch. It’s tearing, burning… the pain clawing at my insides. He pauses only when he’s skin-on-skin. I want to scream and scream at him to stop but then his fingers start circling my clitoris once more and I end up crying out with need instead.
“You feel too good, mi alma. Too fucking good.”
I can only concentrat
e on the dual pleasure of his fingers and the searing pain of his penetration but even that is starting to subside. I’m spiraling higher and higher… and with a cry I fall apart as a powerful orgasm engulfs my pelvis in burning licks of wildfire. At the same time he starts to move, grinding into my ass with those long, slow, devastating strokes of his.
It’s not long before he finds his own release, his cock thickening and lengthening inside me as we collapse forward against the wall together. My head is turned, my cheek pressed tightly against the cool stone of the stall. His forehead is digging into my shoulder, heating my bare skin with his ragged breath. He’s still lodged deep inside me and still as hard as stone.
“A suitable place to break you in, my angel,” I hear him say, withdrawing slowly. In the gloom of the stall he looks so intimidating, so handsome, so seductive. But he’s my tempter, my bad influence, a man intent on pushing me to my limits over and over again.
“That was too much, Dante,” I whisper.
“I give you nothing you can’t handle.” Grasping my shoulders, he spins me around and crouches down in front of me to plant a lingering kiss at the apex of my thighs, inhaling deeply at the same time. “I owe you more pleasure.” He nudges my legs wider apart with his hand.
I smile down at him weakly, my heart is beginning to race again. “I could get used to you on your knees in front of me.”
“You have a body that demands to be worshipped.”
He hooks my leg over his shoulder, opening me up wide to him, and creams a hard line with his tongue all the way from the base of my perineum up to the tip of my sex. I jump back as if branded, my shoulder blades smacking up against the wall of the stall behind me. I’m still aching and sensitive from my earlier orgasm and he knows it.
“Hold still.” He places two firm hands to my hips and then repeats this unforgiving action. “You taste divine, my angel,” he murmurs, nipping and then rotating, teasing and testing. I tip my head back and dig my fingers into his silky black hair as he really sets to work on my body, sliding a rough hand up my thigh and pushing two fingers back inside of me as his mouth devours my clitoris, his tongue encircling that bundle of nerves with an ever-increasing pressure.