Page 13 of Kiss of the Cartel

I wrap my lips around him, protecting him from my teeth. I am afraid that he’ll kill me if I accidentally bite him. But also… I am intrigued. I’ve never seen Luis so undone. In such a moment of raw vulnerability. I roll my eyes up, look past the gun and the arm that's reaching behind my head. I look at his face. His eyelids are heavy, his eyes intent on me. They don’t hold the hatred I’ve grown used to. They hold pleasure. Pure, glowing pleasure. He drops the barrel of the gun away from my forehead and slides the fingers of both hands into the hair at my temples. As his orgasm begins to crest his hands grow almost gentle. They guide me in the rhythm he wants, but they are no longer rough.

I should bite him now. Should reach up, grab his gun hand and bury my fingers into the tendons. I should use this opportunity to escape. But I do none of that. Instead, I watch with fascination and a little awe as he jerks his cock from my mouth and masturbates himself, sliding his palm over the wet flesh, the gun is pointed down, but the metal is touching his cock. I am breathless at the sight. The visual of this powerful, beautiful man, masturbating himself with a gun in hand. So visceral, primal, real.

He grabs my hair again, twists my head up and to the side so he can look at my face. I feel something hot hit my breasts, striking my hard nipples. He's coming on my body while staring down at me, our matching brown eyes clashing in a silent but heated exchange. The sensations running through my body are unbelievably erotic. As he finishes, I lift my hand from the ground, run my finger through the cum that bathes my chest and lift it to my lips. I close my eyes as I taste him.

“Look at me.” His voice is strange, a guttural demand.

My eyes fly open to meet his, which hold surprise. Surprise at my action. I should be angry and fearful at the awful way he's treating me, like a whore he’ll eventually use up and throw away. We both know it. But I’m not either of those things. I feel… good.

I only have a few seconds to bask in this feeling before he’s dragging me up to my feet. I sway as my body protests, weak from lack of food and the beating. He bends over, his shoulder coming toward me. I try to move away but he grabs me before I can and tosses me up and over his shoulder. My breath whooshes out and I get only the briefest glimpse of my prison as he spins around and strides from the room.

My mouth opens in shock as he takes the stairs quickly and walks without pause through the house. I’m buck naked and his cock is still hanging out of his pants. Anyone can see us this way. He doesn’t seem to care though. Again, he runs up another set of stairs, to the top floor of the house, holding onto me as though my weight is nothing. He’s not even out of breath while I’m panting like a racehorse from simply holding on to him. He throws a door open and strides through.

Everything is a blur. I have no idea where he’s brought me, though I can already tell that it’s warmer and more comfortable than my prison. Then I’m falling backwards. I brace my arms out, ready for the impact of my back against the floor. I land on something soft, a billowing blanket embracing my naked body. I stare up at him for a moment, my mouth still open in shock. This was the last thing I expected. He’s looking down at me, his gaze inscrutable.

A glance around confirms my suspicion. He’s brought me to his bedroom.

---