Page 16 of Lured By the Cartel

When orgasm hit, it swept through me like a tsunami, tearing a scream from my throat as bliss exploded behind my eyelids. White-hot pleasure pulsed from within, flooding every cell, every fiber, every atom of my being. Euphoria unlike anything else claimed me, leaving me boneless, spent, and satiated. I couldn't have asked for a better moment.

Above me, Marco stiffened abruptly, face contorting in ecstasy as he found his own release. Warmth flooded my insides, filling me to the brim.

Chapter 8

Lucas

Days blurred together, merging seamlessly into nights, each passing similar to the last—waking up beside Marco, sharing breakfast, discussing business or college, fighting against exhaustion during late-night talks. Our days fell into an easy rhythm, predictable yet comforting, familiar yet exciting.

Weeks ago, if someone told me I'd be here now, living under the same roof as Marco Rossi, learning his routines, adapting to his life, I'd laugh openly. Yet reality proved otherwise. Here I stood, fully immersed in his world, navigating it effortlessly alongside him. How did we arrive at this point? I almost didn't know how it happened.

It began with a single night, a moment I didn't think would happen. A connection forged in heat, fueled by desperation, sealed with blood. Then came the aftermath—confusion, regret, uncertainty. Followed closely by acceptance, understanding, and resolve. I knew I didn't want anything else.

Now, we were something... new. Different. Together. Not officially labeled, but implicitly understood. We hadn't spokenaloud about labels or commitments, but actions spoke volumes. Every touch, glance, and smile conveyed volumes unsaid.

Sometimes, I caught myself wondering how things could progress naturally between two people so vastly different. Me, young, inexperienced, naive almost; him, older, dominant, dangerous too. On paper, compatibility seemed unlikely, impossible even. Yet reality painted another picture altogether.

Being with Marco taught me many lessons—strength, courage, resilience. Being strong meant facing fears head-on, accepting my weak points, and embracing weakness sometimes. Courage wasn't merely about bravery displayed physically; rather, it stemmed from emotional fortitude, mental toughness, and inner power. Resilience required bending without breaking, bouncing back after falling, and enduring hardships gracefully.

But most importantly, he showed me love's true essence—fierce, protective, all-consuming. Love wasn't soft, gentle, delicate. Instead, it burned hotter than flames, fought stronger than warriors, and endured longer than lifetimes. Love was Marco Rossi in its purest form, and it was something I never thought I would think about him.

Laying there, listening to Marco's steady heartbeat beneath my ear, thoughts drifted inevitably toward Kessia. What must she think about all this? About our decision to try making this work despite the odds stacked against us?

She'd been shocked when I first told her about us, eyes widening comically behind glasses perched precariously on her nose. Shock quickly morphed into concern, worry lines creasing her forehead as she took in my determined expression. I understood why she had been surprised. I never thought it would turn out the way it did.

"Lucas..."she had started cautiously then,"Are you sure about this? Really sure?"

I nodded firmly, meeting her gaze."Yes. I am."

She sighed heavily then, running a hand through her short curls."Okay,"she had conceded softly."I trust your judgment. But promise me one thing: if it gets too much, if he hurts you, you'll tell me immediately. Deal?"

Deal. That was all she needed from me. Unconditional support, unwavering faith, complete acceptance. Because that's what friendship truly meant, right?

A few days later, they finally met face-to-face. Her reaction had been priceless—surprise morphing instantly into amusement before settling comfortably into respect. She'd expected some intimidating alpha brute based solely on reputation alone, not a man capable of genuine kindness, warmth, and consideration sometimes. Meeting him changed everything she believed beforehand, challenging preconceived notions, and shattering stereotypes.

"He's not at all what I imagined,"she confessed later, shaking her head slowly."He's actually... nice."The word sounded strange coming from her lips, still showing that she didn't fully believe what her eyes had seen.

Nice? Marco Rossi? I nearly laughed out loud hearing such an adjective applied to him. Nice was far from describing the complex individual he truly was. Yet, coming from Kes, it held weight. If anyone could see past facades easily, it was her. She possessed an uncanny ability to perceive truths hidden beneath layers of deception, deceit, or defense mechanisms.

And she accepted him, accepted us. Despite initial reservations, doubts, and worries, she stood steadfastly by my side, offering unyielding support. For that alone, I owed her more than words could express. I owed her so much.

A few days later, stepping inside the grand foyer of my childhood home, I felt the familiar chill seeping into my bones, reminding me vividly of countless memories shared within these walls.

Memories filled with laughter, joy, happiness... and also tension, disappointment, and expectations left unmet. Today though, I carried something new, something unexpected—hope mingling with nerves, excitement bubbling under apprehension. I was feeling so many things at the same time.

"Mom?"I called out, setting my bag down gently on the polished marble floor."Dad? I'm home!"

Footsteps echoed shortly afterward, signaling their approach. As they appeared around the corner, faces etched with surprise, I couldn't help grinning widely. Their reactions never ceased to entertain me.

"What a pleasant surprise!"Mom exclaimed, rushing forward to envelop me in a warm hug. Dad followed suit seconds later, clapping me on the shoulder. Despite the outward displays, I knew better than to believe their genuineness.

"I have news,"I announced, drawing their attention further."Something big, actually."

Their brows furrowed, curiosity piqued instantly."Oh?"Dad prompted, crossing his arms across his chest."Do tell."

Before I could begin explaining, another set of footsteps resonated behind me, growing louder until finally pausing beside me. We all turned towards the newcomer, surprise mirroring across our features as we took in the sight before us.

Marco stood tall and imposing, exuding confidence, dominance, and danger in equal measures. His dark eyes swept over the scene casually yet assessingly, taking in every detail, missing nothing. Jesus Christ, he looked even more formidable here than anywhere else.

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