Page 39 of Scarred Queen

She slammed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t pass out, wrapped her fingers around the chains as best she could and held on for dear life as he continued fucking her ass for several more strokes before finishing. She felt the hot rush of semen as he filled her anal passage. It felt different than when he filled her pussy. He pulled out and finished across her ass cheek and thigh, markingher.

The possessive culero, she thought weakly, slumping against the chains and resting her cheek against the cold metal of thebench.

Reyes reached over her head, a bead of sweat dripping from his wide chest and landing on her shoulder blade, and uncuffed first one wrist and then the other. Casey moaned at the painful rush of blood through her veins and the pull of tender flesh. She curled her wrists underneath her torso against her breasts and huddled against the bench hoping like hell he was done with the torture. She achedeverywhere.

He sat her on his lap and curled her up, tucking her head beneath his chin, then settled with his back against the bench. Neither of them were comfortable. Reyes was sitting with a metal bench digging into his back, though Casey was having trouble truly caring about his comfort given what he’d just done to her. And she was leaning against his sticky, sweaty bare chest and sitting on his still semi-hard dick with the zip of his pants digging into her tender ass. She glanced down at her bare thigh where her leg was curled up. There was a streak of something sticky. She realized it must be semen mixed with blood. If she didn’t badly need the comfort of his arms at the moment she would probably haul off and punchhim.

After sitting in silence for several moments while their racing hearts calmed and she wondered if she would ever sit again, he finallyspoke.

“Come back to me,nena,” he whispered against the top of her head, kissing herhair.

Tears filled her eyes and she took several shuddering breaths before answering. “It hurts too much, Reyes. The numbness feels so much better. I can cope with that. When there aren’t any feelings. I… I just don’t think I can survive the memories when they keep rushing at me every time I close my eyes. And your love… it makes me feel too much, hurts too damn much. I should’ve died with them.” Her voice broke on the last word and she ended on asob.

His arms tightened around her and squeezed until she almost couldn’t breathe, but it was a good kind of hurt. It reminded her that she was still alive and that he wasn’t going to let her slip away to die in a pool of her own blood with a bullet in her brain. The tears came faster and harder. He let her cry until there were no moretears.

He took a fistful of her hair and forced her head back until it rested on his bicep. He looked into her swollen, tear-stained eyes and said, “You are alive,mi amor, mi reina, don’t waste this gift. Time to wake up,understand?”

She took a deep breath in and then let it shudder out from her. “Okay, Reyes,” she whispered, tilting her head to the side and pressing a kiss against his stubbled jaw. “Time to wakeup.”

The edge of his lips curved a little, softening his profile a little. Then he said, “Good,nena, because I have some information on the motherfuckers that took your family. We fly to Venezuelatomorrow.”

Chapter Thirty

The man lookedas though he’d seen a ghost, yet Casey was positive she’d never seen him before. He stared and stared at her as though unable to drag his eyes away from her. She knew she was a good-looking woman. She knew her beauty lured men to her, powerful men like Ignacio and Reyes. But, somehow, she didn’t think it was her uncanny resemblance to Marilyn Monroe that was making Sotza, the Venezuelan boss, look at her like she had twoheads.

She was about to ask if they had met before when he abruptly turned to Reyes and snapped in a clipped British accent, “Who is this? I refuse to negotiate business in front of a newcomer. Send your little girlfriend away if you expect totalk.”

Casey felt the thick, palpable tension in the air, winding like a serpent, getting ready to strike for daring to insult the Bolivian’s woman. Casey side-eyed Reyes. Yup. Though he looked at ease, standing in his superbly cut dark suit, his arms crossed over his broad chest, waves of fury were rolling off of him. Alejandro and the rest of their men were looking just asmenacing.

Casey glanced back at Sotza with a raised eyebrow. From the look on his face, she could tell he was regretting his words. The imp in her really wanted him to eat them, but she knew she needed to play nice to get to the goods. She smiled pleasantly and was about to speak when Reyes interrupted with a growl, “She is my wife,notmy little girlfriend. You will be respectful and civil when speaking to her.” Apparently, despite his assurances that this meeting was in her hands, he couldn’t help but defend her honour.Sweet.

She didn’t bother correcting Reyes’ continued insistence on calling her his wife when she was not. Instead she looked intently at Sotza and then nodded toward a beautifully tiled walkway. “Walk with me, señor,” she said pleasantly. “Tell me why you looked at me the way youdid.”

Sotza appeared somewhat relieved that she was calling her guard dog to heel and taking the reins. Clearly, he didn’t want a bloodbath on his home front. Casey indicated that they should walk together side by side, turning their backs on the veritable army and moving with the Venezuelan arms dealer toward the path. He hesitated only a moment and then allowed her to lead him, perhaps a mixture of curiosity and fear of retaliation from Reyes guiding hisdecision.

“Was it because I look so very much like my mother?” she murmured when they were out of ear shot of anyoneelse.

Tensions visibly vibrated through him for a moment and then he relaxed. They strolled leisurely down the path. Reyes remained close by, monitoring Casey’s body language, but ultimately trusting her with this exchange. They’d talked in depth about what to expect and how the interaction should go down. He had convinced her that since it was her family and her ultimate happiness at stake that she should be the one to direct the discussion with Sotza while her king protected her back. She could tell though that Reyes was nervous on her behalf. He didn’t know what to expect. She was always his wildcard.

Finally, after they’d walked the path for several minutes, leaving armed bodyguards behind and entering into a peaceful garden along the Eastern wall of Sotza’s property, he began to speak, gifting her with the truth. “Your mother was a stunningly beautiful woman, with white gold hair and bright green eyes. She could bring a man to his knees with a single look. Her grace and beauty were renowned in our circles. Your father was the envy of many… myselfincluded.”

Casey felt a rush of gratitude. These were the first kind words she’d heard about her parents in a decade and they felt oddly comforting. They wrapped themselves around her heart and helped to replace the awful images of execution that had been playing like a clip show on repeat through her brain since her memory hadreturned.

“Thank you,” she saidhuskily.

Sotza nodded and waved her toward a stone bench, urging her to sit next to him. She glanced toward Reyes, whose expression was unreadable behind dark sunglasses. He stood to the side, arms crossed in front of him, not even bothering to pretend that he wasn’t staring intently her way. Casey gave him a half smile and sat with Sotza, turning to give her attention to the half Venezuelan, half British man. He was really very handsome in a Brioni suit, tailored to perfection along his sculpted frame. Tall and slender, regal almost, he was probably about twenty years older thanher.

His skin was perfectly tanned,his dark hair, grey at the temples, was brushed back and at the sides. He was the picture of cool, sophistication with an exotic twist. He was a difficult man to get any kind of read on, except when he gazed at Casey for too long, then she saw small sparks of emotion. As though he were struggling with his own long-buried memories. So, she looked at him, really looked at him and tried to see thetruth.

She tilted her head to the side, her white blond hair sliding over her shoulder and swinging toward him. She saw his gaze shift along her body, saw the flash of intense longing before he shut itdown.

“You knew my mother better than you’re saying,” she said bluntly. He turned his head toward her, the look in his eyes at first cool and chastising. “Please tell me,” she urged him. “Everyone I used to love has fallen. Murdered in our home by execution, one at a time. I watched as my mother was forced to her knees. Watched as she begged for the lives of her children, right before they put a bullet in herhead.”

He flinched, a ripple running through his frame. Terrible fury, similar to what she’d seen in Reyes eyes flashed through Sotza before he blanked his expression once more. The dead eyes. Yes, this she knew well and could deal with. It was that momentary flash though, that she intended to take advantage of. She knew she had him. She reached out and placed her hand over his. He allowed thefamiliarity.

“Please help me Señor Sotza,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “My blood was stolen from me, I was harmed beyond repair and then I was taken as some kind of prize by the man that shot me in the head. Their deaths rocked our world, yet no one lifted a finger forme.”

His hand jerked underneath hers, but she refused to let him go. She studied him as he processed her words and, for a split second, seemed to crumple. As if in slow motion, his other hand moved over to cover hers. She saw Reyes jerk out of the corner of her eye, his arms loosening to fist at his sides. He did not enjoy the hold Sotza had on her; that the Venezuelan could possibly hurt her before Reyes could physically get to her. Though she didn’t look toward her protective lover, she shook her head slightly to keep him atbay.

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