Page 68 of His to Bedevil

I know,mi amor. I know.

Irma

Matches is dead. He’sdead. And Alejo is to blame. I want to hurt him. Ineedto hurt him. Make him feel just a sliver of what I’m feeling right now. The physical pain my heart is fraught with.

I start moving more strategically and not with just rashness and rage. I do a combo kick and land a foot to his ribs. He grunts just a little but continues to move around the room, dodging every blow from me. He, of course, doesn’t fight me back at all. Only dodges my hits and swings.

After a while, I give up on moving with precision and advance on him with seething rage. Like a feral cat that’s been injured and cornered and needs to fight for survival.

Screaming like a deranged lunatic, I start throwing my fists frantically at him and quickly find myself pinned against the wall face-first, his full body weight holding me in place. “I’m sorry you’re upset with me,” he hisses in my ear, his breath hot. Then he pushes my pants down to my ankles and literally rips my panties off.

“No! Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare, Alejandro! I will kill you!” I scream as I struggle against him, but it’s laughable. His brute strength is like me trying to move an entire building.

I hear him fumbling with his belt behind me and the sound of a zipper. “But I’m not sorry your ex-lover is dead.”My what?Before I can form words, he impales me with his fully erect cock. I cry out from the abrupt invasion, and he starts pounding into me mercilessly without a second to adjust. “You’re mine, Irma. Fynn may have belonged to him, but you, Irma, aremine. Everything belongs to me,” he rasps in a voice of yearning. Despite the fact that he has taken me against my will, I feel pleasure already building up in my stomach and approaching fast. I bite down on my lip hard and try to ward it off. “Everything, my love. Your body, your mind, your heart, and your fucking soul. All mine,” he growls, making me whimper.

He continues to pound into me with brutal force, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to tell myself that I don’t want this, that I’m not enjoying this. Trying desperately to ignore the sensuous tingling that imbues my entire body with abundance. Matches is dead because of him. He may not have been the one to end his life, but he was the one who promised me he would live.

His hand reaches around me and starts to rub my clit, and my body is out of my control. I’ve lost all self-deprivation and abstinence. My fortitude crushed, all because he knows exactly how to touch me to make my body submit to him.

“Que te jodan.”Fuck you, I seethe, still squeezing my eyes shut and fighting against the twisted pleasure he’s giving me.

It’s useless. I see stars behind my eyelids as we both come together, my pussy clenching around his spasming cock. Flooding me with his seed once again. He groans loudly in my ear, and I bite my lip, trying to hide my moan as the last wave of pleasure rolls through me. Igniting me from the inside out.

We both stand there frozen for a moment, with him still inside of me. Out of breath and shaky from the high. Then he presses his lips to my ear. “All mine,” he whispers, then pulls away, his softening cock sliding out of me in the process.

Taking a breath of confidence, I pull up my leggings and face him. He’s standing there with his eyes boring into mine, tucking himself back in his pants. “He was not my lover,” I say quietly with my throat burning. His expression doesn’t change as he rights his clothing. “He wasn’t myfuckinglover,” I say a little louder, in case he didn’t hear me the first time.

I don’t know if it’s that he really didn’t hear me the first time or that he just didn’t believe me the first time, but his body suddenly tenses, and he looks at me in disbelief. “Then who was he to you, Irma?”

A sob catches in my throat, but I swallow it down. He will not see me shed tears. He doesn’t deserve to see them, to see me vulnerable and weak. “He was the only friend I had in this world. The only person who knew me.”

“He wasn’t your lover.”

I shake my head. “No. I slept with him once, but it was years ago. A drunken mistake. But he was not my lover.” I drop to my knees, the adrenaline starting to wane. “He was the only one that made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone in this world,” I say with despair. “Now, I have no one.” No one to mourn me when I die. No one to even know I existed.

Alejo prowls toward me and squats down in front of me. “You have me, Irma. You’ll always have me.” He reaches for me, and I flinch away. His hand drops, and he purses his lips. “Matches tried to escape. He even got ahold of a gun. It came down to a shoot-out, and he lost. He got himself killed, my love. I’m sorry it happened.” There’s hardly any sincerity in his voice.

I shake my head. “No, you’re not. You were going to kill him eventually. And you’ll kill me, too, one day. Matches warned me, and I pretended it wasn’t true. But it is, isn’t it? When you tire of me, you won’t let me go. You’ll kill me.”

Alejo reaches for me again, and this time when I flinch, he doesn’t seem to care. He pinches my chin harshly to make me look at him. “I will not tire of you. Ever. You are my wife and my new purpose of living. I have lived long enough to know what I want. And what I want isyou. You for as long as I still have breath in my lungs.”

And with that, he scoops me up into his arms and brings me to his bed. Looking at me with tenderness, he undresses till he’s standing there naked and hard again. Once he’s done, he undresses me, and I let him. For some insane reason, I need this. To feel this connection with him and let him chase away the tears, replacing them with pleasure.

He crawls on top of me and slants his mouth over mine. My legs fall open, and my arms wrap around his neck. Our tongues clash, and we both are fighting for the upper hand. He’s trying to dominate, and I’m just trying to drive away my grief. Needing to get lost in him.

It doesn’t take long for him to thrust his way inside of me, taking the air from my lungs. But he replaces it with his own, breathing life into me. Alejo makes love to me like he did the first time, and when he brings me to my second orgasm, he soars with me. Flying high until we ride the wave back down to earth. Crashing to solid ground.

Alejo rolls over to his back, and he pulls me with him so that I’m lying across his chest tucked into his side. I get this overwhelming sensation of safety and protectiveness from him. His scent invades my nostrils, and I remember how I couldn’t get over how good he smelled last night. His scent is intoxicating, and last night I just couldn’t ignore it any longer.

We lie there silently, both trying to catch our breath. His hands are everywhere on me, tenderly stroking me. My hair, my arm, my back. It almost lulls me to sleep. His hands are rough, but they can be so gentle when they’re on me.

“How did you meet Matches?” His voice vibrates his chest even though he spoke quietly.

I sigh as I continue to stare out at nothing. “I was seventeen. Living on the streets, and he caught me pickpocketing.” I snort, laughing inside, thinking back to that day. With that charming smile he tried using on me mixed with his thick accent, he almost managed to enchant me.

Alejo’s hands freeze on me. “You were living on the streets?”

I nod my head. “I ran away from my foster family when I was fifteen. So, from the age of fifteen to seventeen, I lived on the streets. I mean, it’s not like I was sleeping under a bridge every night. I broke into buildings and managed to hide in stores and businesses waiting for them to close up. I became quite resourceful and eventually mastered the art of pickpocketing. Until I pickpocketed Matches.” I smile, still reminiscing.

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