Page 71 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

And everything disastrous in it.

Why can’t he just fucking take it!

Something flashes on his face before he masks it with indifference, but he comes closer to me once again, lifting my chin with his index finger. “Ask, querida. Ask and the pleasure shall be yours.” His thumb brushes over my cheek, his gentle caress such a contrast to his harsh persona, and my mouth opens to do as he says.

Utter the words and put us both out of our misery.

I’ve been a good girl my whole life, playing by all the rules, trying to gain affection and love from the people who couldn't give two shits about me.

Why can’t I, for once, indulge in something that will bring me pleasure, even if it’s bad and I’ll feel guilty afterward?

Guilt has been a constant my whole life, weighing on me like an invisible chain, showing me my place in this world, punishing me for the sins my parents committed.

What will one more feeling of guilt change anyway?

At least the man standing in front of me has never pretended to be someone he is not or promised me sunshine and roses while giving me thunder and thorns.

Fisting the dress harder, I exhale a heavy breath and come to a decision that won't change much in my life anyway.

For the man in front of me will always stay a beast who won't transform into a prince, and I should always remember that.

My body might crave his, but my stupid naïve heart… my stupid heart will have to stay oblivious to all the emotions living inside it, so I won’t fall for the monster.

I let the fabric slip through my fingers, the dress falling from my shoulders and dropping to my feet, leaving me standing only in my white lacy panties and thigh-high stockings, completely exposed to Santiago’s hungry gaze as his sapphire eyes turn molten, hitting me with such intense desire I struggle to breath.

“Please,” I whisper, the energy between us charging by a thousand megawatts taunting my skin and breaking the boundaries I placed on us.

His hand travels to my hair, fisting it harshly, sending the pins flying from it onto the floor, and he forces my head back, his fingers scratching my scalp, but I welcome the pain.

Pain makes me feel alive in this moment and shuts up the voice in my head that screams for me to stop this madness.

Because nothing but heartbreak awaits me at the end of this journey.

“Por favor qué, querida?” Our chests bump against each other, and I hiss when my nipples brush against his, intensifying the swirling heated pool inside me. “Dilo.”

Wetting my dry lips and holding his stare with mine, I say, “Please soothe the need riding me hard, residing deep inside me, even though I hate you.” I hiss the last part, anger mixing with lust so strong I want to run away yet knowing I will find no solution to it without him.

I gasp into his mouth as he captures mine in a heated kiss, plunging his tongue deep, seeking mine, then they entwine, solidifying my decision once and for all.

The kiss is raw, passionate, awakening every nerve in my body, demanding pleasure it promises, and I circle his neck, pushing myself closer to him, and whimper when it’s not enough.

Nothing will be enough until he feeds the lust eating me from inside out.

His hot palms glide over my skin, squeezing my waist as if settling their ownership over my flesh before they travel down to my ass, and he lifts me up, my legs locking at his back.

Breathing through my nose, I thread my fingers in his hair and deepen the kiss—if it’s possible. I taste tequila along with tobacco in his mouth, and then his hard-on bumps against me.

I hear a rattling, followed by something cold touching my spine, but I pay no attention to it, focusing only on the fire whirling around us.

Only within the inferno he ignites am I able to breathe and live without a care in the world.

His kiss becomes more bruising; my nails digging into his shoulders earns me a hiss, and my lungs beg for a breath, so I tear my mouth away. I arch my neck when his lips suck on the skin there. I know he’ll leave angry red marks, which are neon signs to anyone looking that I belong to him.

The moonlight shines brightly through all the windows, lighting up the darkness enough to create a blanket around us that separates us from the world, people, right and wrong. In this moment, we are in another reality where his dark deeds and my fears vanish.

Here I can almost pretend I’m having a real wedding night with the man who plagued my dreams and fantasies alike for a long time.

His lips slide back to my chin, nipping on it, his eyes drilling into mine. “You are mine, Briseis. Mine and only mine.”

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