Page 50 of Spice and Revenge

I don’t know exactly what I’m begging for. The pleasure is too strong and intense, bringing tears to my eyes. He pounds me hard until I can’t take it anymore.

I moan loudly as my body shudders against him. Leo follows suit, a loud grunt leaving his lips. Our bodies come undone, our moans and groans echoing throughout the room.

I collapse into the bed as Leo falls beside me, gazing into the ceiling. After a beat, I feel his fingers on my face, turning me to face him.

“You are mine now,” he repeats in a gruff voice, staring deeply into my eyes.

“From now onwards, I will have you whenever I want you. You belong to me, therefore, no one else gets to touch you, not even your little boy toy,” he hisses.

I swallow thickly before nodding in approval.

He caresses my face, a sharp contrast from how he fucked me a few minutes ago, before getting up from the bed and walking into an adjoining room.

A shaky exhale leaves my lips. It’s my turn to look at the ceiling now. My thoughts are a mess, but there is one thing I know.

Things can never be the same. Not after this, and especially not after what I plan to do.

Chapter Nineteen

Lorena

“You’re glowing today,” Hilda piques, staring up at me with a glimmer in her eyes.

“I thought I was the only one who noticed,” Blanco snorts from the opposite of the counter. “You have that post-fuck glow…”

Hilda snickers as I shake my head in feigned amusement. It’s hard to slide into our normal dynamics when my thoughts are such a mess. It isn’t just about my confliction about whether to go ahead with my plan or not, it’s the fact that a large side of me doesn’t want to do it that’s bothering me the most. That side of me desperately wants all of this to be some sort of mistake.

With the tip of my knife, I make a sharp incision on the belly of the small sardine on the cutting board. Then, I throw it into a bowl sitting before Blanco on the counter. The bowl is filled with sardines, and his fingers work deftly in deboning the fish and arranging them on a tray.

Beside him, Hilda skillfully prepares the stuffing, combining breadcrumbs, pine nuts, raisins, and aromatic parsley. The fragrance of these ingredients fills the air, making my stomach rumble. We are makingSarde a Beccafico, one of my favorite traditional Sicilian dishes. This dish resonates well with me because it was one of the first dishes we were taught to make in culinary school.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” Blanco wriggles his eyebrows at me.

Our boss, whom I plan to gut as easily as I just gutted the sardine on the counter, I think to myself. But of course, I can’t tell them that.

My body still thrums from the wracking orgasm I experienced two nights ago. The memory of Leo pulling my hair and whispering dirty words into my ear sends a light shiver down my spine. I haven’t been able to function normally since that night. I think about him every passing second. I think about the ownership he claimed over my body. I think about how I still haven’t felt his lips on mine, and how I can’t wait to do that.

“Oh, my goodness, you’re totally thinking about him right now,” Blanco gasps, bringing me back to reality. “Look at your face. You are flushed, darling…”

“Now I need to know all the details,” Hilda says excitedly. “Is he hot? How many times did he make you cum…”

Once, but the intensity felt like a million orgasms in one.

Instead of egging them on, I roll my eyes and instruct Hilda to begin stuffing each sardine.

I wonder for the millionth time if it was such a good idea to let the man I was making plans to eliminate touch me and bring my body to heights that I never knew existed.

What happened between us the other night was more than sex. It far transcended any sexual experience I have ever had in my life. For those brief moments, my body had been floating on a cloudof ecstasy until everything I had just learned from Pedro came rushing back and I was hurled back to reality.

What I can’t keep doing is second guessing my decision to end Leo for what he did to my family, though. He is far from innocent, and he deserves my wrath. The man must have more blood on his hands than entire armies; he needs to die.

So why am I full of indecision?

The longer I spend wasting crucial time, the slimmer my chances of killing him get.

Just then, the sound of female laughter echoes in the air, and I hear another male voice speaking above the sounds.

“That must be the twins,” Hilda mutters, her expression suddenly becoming stiff.

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