Page 130 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

She moves to another, then another, leaving butterfly kisses in her wake as her tongue traces their shapes and texture. Her hand strokes my dick, her thumb brushing the head, and I feel my precum leaking on her finger.

Desire rocks my entire system; the need to throw her on the nearest flat surface and fuck her hard until her throat becomes hoarse from the screams I inspire in her rides me. My hand clenches on her back.

However, I don’t act on my urges. Her lips cover the parts of me that bring me the most pain, because the representation of what was done to me forever mars my skin, but she brings me far greater emotions.

Like the light slipping under the door and finally brightening up the darkness, mesmerizing me with its beauty.

“Briseis.” I murmur her name, tasting it on my tongue, and she puts her free hand on my abdomen, my muscle dipping under her touch, while she still works my dick, playing with her personal toy.

Because it is.

Every part of me is hers.

I never thought such romantic crap would be coming out of me, but I underestimated what it’s like to not have to hide your true nature. Where the woman’s affection is not conditional.

Where you aren’t judged by your past sins.

How could anyone resist that?

I almost come undone when I see her eyes glistening with tears. “How brave you must have been to survive all this.” Her splayed palm covers one of the scars while she places another kiss to one of the burn marks on my chest. “I hate these scars, because someone hurt you so much.” Kiss. “But I love them too, because no matter how much they wanted to break you… they didn’t.” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “You shouldn't hide them. A warrior wears his victories proudly.”

I was wrong.

Her words, kisses, and affection to my scars serve as a balm to the bleeding wounds, making me believe for a second they might completely heal someday, just holding echoes of pain.

“I won’t ever let you go. Nunca. You’re trapped in my castle forever.” I say the harsh words, half expecting her to bolt from my hold and maybe stop the emotions crushing me in waves, emotions a monster shouldn't feel, because they are too powerful to stay numb to.

She freezes, removes her hand from my dick, and steps back, and a self-loathing chuckle threatens to still her movement.

She got scared again, and now she’ll…

I frown when she shimmies out of her dress, the silk sliding down to her feet effortlessly, leaving her standing naked in front of me, her gorgeous body on full display from her more-than-a-handful tits, her curvy waist, and those legs of hers that cradle me so fucking well I never want to leave the fucking bed.

“No lingerie?” My eyes flare, anger sinking into my bones when I grit through my teeth, “All those fuckers admired my wife while you were fucking naked underneath?”

A teasing smile shapes her mouth, and she places her hands on her breasts, caressing them and moaning, the sound making my dick jerk, and then her splayed palms glide over her waist. “Only you can touch my body.” The possessive beast calms a little inside me, even though it still wants to kill anyone for so much as thinking about my wife, let alone putting their hands on her. She’s mine alone.

No one gets to touch what belongs to me.

I make a move to wrap my arm around her, but she shakes her head, escaping my reach, and all my instincts become alert again. Why the fuck is she running away? “Come here,” I growl, tugging on my pants and removing them hastily, and male satisfaction peaks when she bites her lower lip, roaming her gaze all over me. Crooking my finger, I step several feet away until the back of my calves bump into the bed, and I order again, “Come here, querida. I bet your pussy is dripping, aching to feel my tongue or dick inside, filling it to the brink.”

She gasps, rubbing her thighs together, and finally saunters toward me, her hips swaying from side to side. She’s a siren destined to lure me with her beauty, making anyone blind to the danger she represents.

If you are not careful enough, she might own your soul; thankfully, I’ll gladly give her mine and kill anyone daring to offer her another.

This particular siren came to this earth for me alone. “Querida,” I snap impatiently, drinking in the goodness in front of me and needing to taint her with myself so that her skin will be covered in the red marks of my ownership.

She comes closer, her lavender scent twitching my nose, and she says, “I want to play.” Her voice turns sultry, wrapping around my dick like the softest silk, the husky note in it making it unbearable to stay calm. “My mouth misses your cock.” She grabs my hand, puts it on her pussy, rubbing over her wet heat, and my fingers curl. She moans, stepping closer and whispering, “The thought of your taste on my tongue makes me ache.”

Fuck me.

How does a man say no to that? It’s a fucking wonder my dick doesn't spill right now. I rein in the need by a thin thread, deciding to give her what she asks of me.

Whatever she needs in this life, I will give her.

She’ll be so spoiled she won't remember what it was like to live in hell.

“All yours, baby.” Her colorful unique eyes brighten, and she pushes me on the bed where I land on my back, more to her amusement than her actual strength, and she climbs on top of me, throwing her legs over my hips as she settles her ass close to my dick. Her dark hair falls down around her in heavy locks, hiding her full tits from my gaze. “Fuck,” I mutter, and she laughs. “Finding my torment hilarious, querida?”

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