Page 34 of Trapped

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” I slide my crown in and watch her body go rigid. I wait for her to adjust as I stretch the tight hole.

“My cock was the first one to claim your tight virgin cunt. And now, it will take this tight ass.” I push in farther, and she cries out.

“I’ll be your first, and I’ll be your last—for everything.” I shove in my full length and watch as her body moves forward. She cries out, and I moan as I push in deeper. Once her ass has swallowedmy dick, I begin thrusting into her. I start slow, but the tight sensation is overstimulating.

No drug on the planet feels as good as this woman feels around my cock. Her pussy, her mouth, this ass—they are all mine. Mine to use as I please. Mine to claim like I had all those years ago when she bled for me. When she cried out for me and gave in to me so willingly. I reach a hand over and rub my thumb over her clit. I have fucked a lot of women in my life, but this pussy is home base.

“Silas. Ah.” Her knuckles turn white as she grips the table. The way my name falls from her lips unchains the beast in me. I fuck her hard and fast, pulling back and slamming into her with brute force.

I love being the one man to ever own this part of her. The men in the room stand still, but I can only imagine how her moans will play out in their minds every time they jack off.

“Just like that. Keep taking this cock like the little puta you are.”

I continue to fuck her like an animal. She screams out as she cums all over my hand. I drive into her and fuck her like a savage. Her wetness leaks down her thighs. I bring both hands to her waist and grab on to her. I let loose, slamming into her tight ass over and over again. When my balls tighten, I come so hard it knocks the breath out of me. I bury myself in her ass and fill her up with my cum.

Her body withers on the table, and I almost forget we have an audience. I pull my cock out and pull my pants up, tucking the gun into my waistband.

“Get the fuck out of here and load the truck!”

Thalia

I submerge myself into the tub and let my head fall back. My body is spent, and I feel emotionally drained. My ass feels sore, but my pussy still throbs, jealous that she wasn’t the hole he used. Silas carried me in after and set the bath up for me. He filled the tub with salts and bubbles. I watch through hooded eyes as he rolls a joint and places an ashtray at the edge of the tub.

He removes his clothes and steps into the large tub next to me. He effortlessly pulls my body toward him and sets me on his muscular thighs. His large hands rub my back and apply pressure to my shoulders, removing all the knots of tension wound up in me with his touch. I lay my head to his chest and listen to the slow thuds of his heart. He continues to massage my back. My fingers lightly trace the letters of his chest tattoo. D-u-l-c-e. I look up when I feel his gaze on me. He shifts my body slightly and reaches for the joint beside us.

I study his every movement. The deep way he inhales the smoke. The way his lips make an O as the smoke escapes and swirls into the air. I lick my lips and watch him. Inhale and exhale. His chest rises and falls against mine. It seems surreal that he is here. His knuckles caress my cheek. We’re both so consumed with one another that nothing else matters.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. I break eye contact and snuggle into his muscular embrace.

“I was thinking about how surreal this feels. I’m still waiting for someone to tell me I’ve lost my mind or that I’m dead. That you and I are in the afterlife.”

That had been the only place I thought he would exist for me. When I saw him on the plane, I had convinced myself this was a dream, but when he touches me, I know it’s reality. Silas slowly lifts my chin. He brings the blunt to my lips, and I inhale the sweet smoke.

“And here I was thinking you were plotting my death.” He smiles at me, and this time, it’s a genuine one. Not one that taunts or flirts. It’s a smile that burns through the barbed wire fence protecting my heart. It dismantles the security and protection I put into place for years.

“No, I was thinking about how beautiful you look.” He arches an eyebrow.

“Men aren’t beautiful.”

“You are,” I say, and he leans down to kiss me. It’s a tender peck on the lips, but it sends shockwaves through my body. I moan at his lips’ absence as he takes in another hit.

“Did I fuck you that good? Now you’re in love with me, bruja?” I roll my eyes at his question. I grab the blunt from him and hold in the smoke after I inhale. He watches me and takes me in with his lust-filled eyes. I exhale into his face and push away to the other side of the tub.

“I barely know you, Silas. I can’t be in love with you.”

“You had our wedding picture under your mattress for years.” The statement is slathered in sarcasm, but I can hear the question behind it, too. Red flushes to my cheeks, and he laughs.

He sets down the blunt and reaches his long arms toward me. He pulls me back into him, and I wrap my legs around his middle. I lay my head on his shoulder. We sit like that for what feels like hours. Close together, and yet still miles apart. I stay there and listen to his heartbeat for a while before I find the courage to ask.

“Did you miss me?” I whisper into his chest.

My stomach drops when he doesn’t answer right away. His chest continues to rise and fall, and the sweet smell of the smoke surrounds me. He doesn’t answer my question, instead his fingers trace up and down the large scar in the center of my back.

“What happened here?”

I close my eyes and take in his healing caress. Now it’s my silence filling up the room. He’s asking about the scar my father left when I finally made my way back to Houston to face him. Olivia gave birth to Luca a few weeks after I had Lucia, and I had signed all my rights over to her. I want to tell Silas about her. Beg him to help me, but I stop myself. I can risk my heart with Silas, but I’m not sure I can risk our child. My father has children all over the world, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to love any of us.

“When they arrested you, my tio Aurelio took me to California,” I say, moving to face him. To look into his eyes and tell him about the abuse I endured at my father’s hand.

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