Page 13 of Valentine's with the Cartel

"Yes, I know exactly what I did," he agreed smoothly, not looking remotely apologetic or repentant for a single moment of it. "And judging by how you were moaning and writhing against me like a bitch in heat during our little display back there, I'd say the sentiment was mutual." He punctuated that taunt with a wicked grin that made my blood boil even as unwanted images flashed through my mind.

"I was not moaning or anything!" I protested hotly, hating how my voice wavered and cracked on the last word. But deep down, I knew it was a lie. Damn it. "You treated me like an object, like your personal fucktoy for everyone to see! How is that supposed to make me feel okay?" I shook with rage as I advanced on him, stabbing a finger against his chest in emphasis.

Rafael grabbed my wrist easily before I could retract the offending digit, wrenching my arm up behind me and spinning me around to slam me face-first into the mattress. Before I could even gasp at the sudden maneuver, he was leaning over me with one thigh shoved between my legs as his hands gripped my hips in an unbreakable hold. And the worst thing about that was that I liked it.

"Mmmm but you do like being my plaything, don't you?" He murmured silkily against my ear, his warm breath fanning over the delicate skin there. I shuddered violently at the direct stimulation, goosebumps erupting across every inch of exposedflesh. "The way your body responds to me is unmistakable. You were made for this."

"Shut up!" I cried, writhing helplessly against him as my mind screamed that he had no right, that I should hate every second of this degradation and yet-

"And don't even try denying it," Rafael continued smugly, rolling his hips against mine in a sinuous grind. "I can practically smell the wetness leaking out of you right now, all hot and bothered to be taken by your big, strong alpha."

A choked sob ripped from my throat as I squeezed my eyes shut, tears of frustration and self-loathing pricking behind my eyelids. It was mortifying that he could make such vulgar accusations, that the worst part of it was that they rang with undeniable truth.

"How do you manage to twist everything around like this?" I whimpered, voice muffled against the sheets as Rafael continued to grind against me. "I was humiliated and now you're using that against me somehow!"

"Yes, that is what I am doing," he agreed cheerfully even as his fingers dug into my hips with bruising force. "Because your tears and protests only spur me on more, little omega. The sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be."

Rafael punctuated his words by sliding one hand under the front of my body to palm the growing bulge straining against my trousers. I cried out at the unbidden pleasure, back arching sharply as my cock throbbed against his touch.

"And now it's time for me to fuck you until you scream," Rafael declared, releasing his hold on me only to tear impatiently at the fastenings of my clothing. "I think a thorough claiming is in order to remind you who owns this sweet body of yours."

I knew I should fight him, that some part of me had to object on principle alone. But as he shoved me down onto the bed andkicked off his own trousers with barely restrained aggression, all thoughts of resistance evaporated like mist beneath the scorching heat of my arousal.

His words alone were enough to melt my resistance away.

His eyes locked with mine again, and I knew he was going to say something ridiculous. I didn't want to know what it was going to be, but didn't have a choice, either. "You know, I'm so sorry for making you cry, baby," Rafael murmured softly against my neck, his words belied by the wicked grin I could hear in his voice even as he gentled his touch on me. "You know I only want what's best for you. And that means taking care of this luscious body until you can't even remember your own name anymore."

I shuddered at the obscene promise underlying those honeyed words, even as a part of me screamed that this was still wrong, that he shouldn't be touching me like this right now. And the truth was, it was wrong. I just couldn't stop him.

"Why do you have to be so damn difficult?" Rafael sighed dramatically before I could muster up an adequate retort. "You're supposed to let me ravish you thoroughly, not put up such a stubborn fuss about it. It's really starting to affect my ego." He tutted, that same smirk still persistent on his chiseled face.

I glared at him balefully, hating how he managed to make even his apologies sound like smarmy seductions meant to wind me up and keep me off-balance. He was impossible. And the worst thing about that? It was working.

"Maybe if you treated me like a human being instead of some plaything for your amusement, I wouldn't have such issues with you!" I snapped, wriggling in his hold even as my treacherous body responded eagerly to the heat of him pressed along my back and thighs.

Rafael just laughed at that, clearly amused by what he perceived as my feeble attempt at rebellion. "Oh honey," hepurred, dragging a finger down my spine from my nape to the dimple at the base of my back, "You're so cute when you pretend to be outraged like this. You should become an actor. You're really good at this."

Chapter 8

Rafael

"There are a few things you should know about me," I continued. I could see the way Anan's hackles rose at the sound of it, his small frame stiffening beneath me with a combination of residual outrage and simmering arousal that I found endlessly fascinating.

His body language screamed at me to get on with it, that he didn't have the time or patience for my usual games right now. But oh, he was so adorably transparent, my dear Anan, in so many ways.

"It's only fair, after all," I went on with a negligent shrug of one shoulder even as my fingers continued their idle path along his spine. "Seeing as we are now bound together for life and all."

Anan made a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck that way.

"Don't try to butter me up with this 'sharing' bullshit," he muttered, his tone as sarcastic as it had ever been. "I don't need to know anything about your sordid past in order to recognize what an asshole you are in the present."

I simply chuckled, enjoying the way his acerbic wit always seemed to sharpen and sparkle when he was fired up like this. He was so much more than just a pretty face to admire from afar.

"You say that now," I purred with mock sympathy even as I let my eyes trace over his flushed cheeks and trembling bottom lip, committing every delicious detail of his anger to memory for later contemplation, "But we both know how much you want to know. I can practically smell your curiosity." That much was true, I could tell he was dying to know more about me.

"You're just making up stuff to have a reason to keep groping me," Anan groused sulkily even as he arched against me like a cat seeking attention, his body betraying him even as his words denied it.

I shook my head fondly, my expression softening for a moment as I gazed down at the marvel that was mine. My husband. Mine to cherish and corrupt in equal measure over the long years ahead of us together. It was both exciting and terrifying, in a darkly thrilling way.

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