Page 75 of Falling for the Enemy

Without another word, she turns and begins to dance once more, gliding past Casper, his full attention fixated on her, the emotional bomb she just flung in my direction ten times more explosive than the weakly constructed one I survived hours ago.

I’m left reeling.

For a reason I don’t understand, and that I can’t begin to explain, her ever-present fear is markedly absent in regard to Alejandro. When they first came face-to-face in my study, terror didn’t strike and consume her as it always does when meeting someone new, leaving her in a panic so great it never fails to steal her ability to breathe.

It’s as though she senses the good that’s buried deep inside him, beneath the blood that stains his hands and the darkness that cloaks his soul. Just as she does with both Casper and Nikolai.

"Manzana—"

I pivot in Alejandro's arms, a tsunami of emotions—most of which I've never felt, others I don't know how to process—crashing through me. Needing an outlet, and fearing I'll explode if I don't procure one, I palm the sides of his neck.

"Take me downstairs, da?"

He doesn't dare argue.

Instead, he does exactly as I ask.

TWENTY

Alejandro

Temptation comes in many forms.

In this case, it takes the shape of a blue-eyed Bratva queen, who lies on her back in the middle of her four-poster bed. Legs spread in open invitation, her bare pussy begging to be licked, then fucked, she's taunting me with something I can't have.

"Mothefucker..."

I pace as the temptress grins and curls a finger, beckoning me closer, the candles on her dresser bathing her freshly cleansed skin in golden warmth. After returning from the attic, she’d showered while I conversed with Rafe and Miguel, who remain in Medellín, regarding cartel business.

I’d barely been able to concentrate while she was so close, her wet body covered in soap. The moment she walked into view, a billow of steam following her and skin dewy from lotion, I almost took her against the wall.

By a thread, I’ve held onto control.

Now, though, she’s trying to break it.

“I can't touch you, Hermosa.” I shake my head, my resolve to keep my hands to myself slipping with each pulse of my heart. “Not when you have a concussion and wounded side."

I've brought physical harm to many.

She'll never be one of them.

"A very mild concussion."

Repeating the bastardo doctor's words, she rises to her elbows, putting her perfect tits and hard nipples on display, their brown tips begging to be worshiped with my tongue.

The flickering candlelight catches on the diamond chain hanging from her anklet. I’d pay millions and murder many for the opportunity to collar her with a belly chain, my name inscribed on its gemstones—red diamonds for a bloodthirsty queen.

"You mistake me for glass, Krasavchik. I'm not fragile, I will not break."

That’s where she’s wrong.

I stop pacing and climb onto the bed, my frame eclipsing hers. "You think I won't break you?" Trailing a scarred knuckle down her throat, I lean close, my lips finding her jaw. "If you only knew the things I plan to do to you..."

Soon, I mentally add.

For all that transpired on my yacht before her escape, she'll be punished with every inch of my cock. Until she's fully healed and can readily accept each lesson I intend to teach her, however, her insolence will be overlooked.

Not forgotten.

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