Page 54 of Falling for the Enemy

He squeezes, his thrusts growing harder, more dominating. In turn, I dig my nails into his forearms, cutting his flesh and marking him just as he did me. If he wishes for this suka to wear his brand, then he’ll wear mine as well.

“If it becomes too much, touch your stomach.” His hold on my throat tightens, the escape he’s just given me one I won’t be taking. I’m on the verge of shattering, the bomb he’s planted in my lower belly nearing detonation. “Come, Ari.” Shoulders tensing, his cinnamon-colored eyes turn wild. Feral. “Goddammit, Manzana, be my good girl and—”

He releases my neck.

Gasping, I suck in a lungful of oxygen as my world implodes, the dimly lit room filling with a kaleidoscope of bright hues. Matching the ocean that churns beneath me, waves of bliss roll through me, crashing and cresting, taking me on the ride of my life.

“Alejandro!”

Shoving my legs from his shoulders, he drops down giving me his weight, his chest blanketing mine, the smell of him—of us—filling my nose as he nuzzles his face into my throat. The gesture is sweet and romantic, the opposite of how I need him to behave if my heart is to remain a tundra.

This softer side of him is dangerous.

Lips taking ownership of mine, he kisses me softly, his tongue diving to gently coax mine. His strokes slow without losing their brutal edge, each exaggerated roll and hard stab of his hips working to draw out the ripples of pleasure that continue to flow through me.

With each touch, he’s obliterating my walls, destroying my defenses one by one. I can’t let him continue. He’s already taken and claimed more than I ever intended for him to.

This must end. Now.

I break the kiss, my stomach sinking.

“I need to be more careful with you,” he whispers, ignoring my rapidly shifting mood, the charged air surrounding us further electrifying as he trails butterfly kisses down my cheek. Stilling inside me, his fingers softly stroking my tousled hair, he looks at me, and for a moment, a lone second, it feels as though he’s truly seeing me. “If I hurt you…”

I can’t take it anymore.

When he says such things, his words strike my heart, chipping chunk after chunk of ice from its surface. If I’m not careful, he’ll soon hold its true form in his hands, where he can then watch it bleed from the blade he’s undoubtedly planning to bury in it.

Attempting to break our connection, I turn my head, my stare needing to focus on something other than his handsome face, a picture that will remain burned into my memory long after I kill him.

I fear it’ll haunt me until I die.

“You need to let—” Spotting the solution to my imprisonment crimped between the mattress and wall, the black loops wrapped around one of the headboard’s iron bars, I seal my lips. Smiling, I grasp Alejandro’s strong shoulders and urge him to his back, his cock momentarily slipping free. Surprisingly, he follows my lead. “Let me return the favor by making you come, da?”

I don’t wait for a response.

I straddle him, taking his khui deep.

Forcing myself to remain still despite the urge to rise and fall, further bruising my swollen and sensitive flesh as I seek more of the pleasure only he’s ever given me, I extend his arms above his head, flattening them to the mattress. Exactly where I need them. A thrill shoots through me, the power I’ve lost infusing its way back into my veins.

Fire, meet gasoline.

Leaning down, I press my chest to his, binding our lips in a torrid kiss, the last we’ll ever share. Nails tracing invisible designs on his open palms, I circle my hips, swallowing down the expletives that roll off his tongue at each teasing caress of my pussy along his cock, the taste of them as delicious as payback is about to be.

I deepen the kiss, distracting him.

And now, it’s time to strike.

Before he realizes what’s happening, I grasp the restraints carelessly left at the top of his bed, the zip ties identical to the ones I wore, and slip them over his wrists with haste. Catching on, he breaks our connection, his eyes flaring and filling with rage.

The mudak jerks, his muscular arms tensing.

The effort is in vain. For him, there is no escaping. It’s too late. Hands now bound to the built-in headboard by unbreakable nylon, he’s trapped, his power and strength neutralized by a suka half his size.

But twice as smart.

“You have one second,” he warns, his voice steady despite the promise of retribution that flits across his face. Ignoring both it and him, I hop off his beautiful cock, the aching loss one I feel between my legs and in my heart. “One second to release me, or I’ll tear this mother—”

“Have you ever played chess?”

---