Page 6 of A Promise For Tomorrow

Reclaimher.

I strike like a snake, clasping her throat. Forming an O, her mouth pops open and a gasp slips from her lips. My hand slides up the soft skin of her neck, fingers wrapping around her delicate jaw. I tilt her head towards the window, needing to take a closer look at thismariposita. The pad of my thumb skims over the now goosebump-ridden skin of her neck.

Her chest rises and falls against my forearm and her hand has come up to grip my wrist—but she’s made no attempt to remove it.

And I know she can.

Liam helped train her all those months I couldn’t. With that knowledge—and because I just can’t fucking help myself—I lean down and place my lips over the blue ink. A buzz runs across them as she shivers beneath me, inhaling sharply through her nose.

“Ocean Eyes…” she exhales breathily.

The grasp I have around her jaw tightens as my cock turns hard as steel in my jeans.

I nip at her earlobe, my teeth grazing the soft skin before whispering, “You never stopped being mine,Mariposita. And by inking yourself with a constant reminder of me…it appears I never stopped being yours either.”

Too impatient for a response, I swivel her face back towards me and kiss my sweet girl senseless. She kisses me back with such fervor that I become lost and found in the same moment.

All that exists in this moment isher.

Her soft lips, her tongue dancing with mine, our hands roaming as much surface area of each other as we can get.

I drag her on top of me so that she straddles me, my erection pressing firmly into the sweet spot between her legs. Heat radiates beneath her thin black leggings, siphoning a growl out of me.

Fuck. I need her.

Desperate hands find the back of her head, my fingers clenching the curled purple strands at the scalp. With a yelp, she inhales against my lips and grinds down harder on my pulsing cock pressing at her core.

These goddamn leggings need to be gone.Now. Where’s my knife? Shall I remind her of the last time I stripped her leggings off her?

“I need to be inside you, baby.” I nip at her tattoo, eliciting another delicious moan from her.

Poor Amy.She’s too sweet of a woman to witness the reunion I have planned with my wife—otherwise, I would have just taken Madison’s tight cunt right here and now.

I stand, cupping my hands around her delectable round ass. She wraps her arms and legs around me, continuing to kiss me as I walk us to the bedroom at the back of the cabin. Blindly reaching for the handle, I grasp it, shuffling us inside before slamming the door shut with my wife’s back against it. Releasing my hold on her, I let her slowly slide down my chest and over my painfully hard erection. When her feet land gently on the floor, she places her palms flat against my chest, steadying herself.

Her chest rises and falls with anticipation.

Those gorgeous eyes have grown wide, even her pupils have dilated with lust. Loose curls cascade around her, framing her heart-shaped face. The tip of her tongue darts out to lick her swollen lips as her eyebrows scrunch together.

No… no… I know that look.

Don’t overthink this, Madison.

It’s not just the physical act of sex that Ineed. That Icrave. I am an extremely sexual creature—that won’t ever change. Sex has always been just that—sex. A way to tame my needs. But I have done that countless times with faceless others.

What I crave right now isMadison. There has been a void inside of me that onlyshecan fill. She was the only one I have been with who sees me for me. NotEl Rompe Huesos. Not the son of the ruthless Basilio or the heartless fuckboy.

Me.Diego De La Cruz.

The man who isn’t this monster everyone makes him out to be.

Well, not to the innocent, that is.

My fingers itch with the desire to feel her skin against mine, to hear her breathy little moans as I kiss every precious inch of her body. I want to feel her heart gallop wildly as I slide into her and spend the rest of this flight worshiping her.

Stepping a few inches back, I reach between my shoulder blades and pull my t-shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. She doesn’t skip a beat before she’s back in my space, skating her fingers over the tattoo I got last year.

The pad of her index finger traces over my chest and the black ink etched into my skin. My artist created the visual of exposed bones, showcasing my ribcage and sternum. The artwork portrays where my heart would be.

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