Page 129 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

Santiago

Her plump, soft lips touch mine almost shyly as if she’s not sure about the welcome she might receive after her statement, and I palm her head, gripping it tightly, while thousands of unfamiliar emotions rush through me, one weirder than the other, but all of them have one thing in common.

Wonder.

Because the beautiful woman gazing into my eyes doesn't reject me after my confession. Instead, she welcomes me into her arms, giving me gentleness I’ve never known before.

For the first time since our eyes connected at that party the Dawsons hosted, her green and grey orbs are free of doubts or resistance.

I don’t have to use blackmail or seduction to tempt her; she makes the first step in my direction on her own.

My querida no longer wishes to escape, accepting the monster within me whose wounds still bleed, and no balm on this earth will be able to heal them.

The scars I carry on my soul will always hold my pain, but her presence alone brings peace to the parts I thought would always rage in anger, seeking to destroy.

“Santiago,” she whispers, her lips brushing against mine, and my name rolling off her tongue shows me how she finally made her choice without any reservation.

My wife chose a beast and doesn’t expect me to transform into a prince, giving me a chance.

A chance that is the rarest gift I’ve ever gotten, because she trusts me to never cross the borders of my darkness and let it claim me for eternity.

Placing my mouth on hers, I open it wide, pushing my tongue inside her while angling her head back so I can push deeper, marveling at her soft body next to me, which soaks up all my attention.

She puts her warm palms on my waist while rising a bit higher, her tongue swirling around mine as she teases my mouth with a kiss that’s slow, passionate, addictive, laced in lust and urgency.

This kiss solidifies the beauty’s surrender to the beast while he promises to want her forever, even though he doesn’t understand half of these emotions.

I’m not sure I’m capable of experiencing love, but her… her I want so much the obsessive need only grows, and there is no cure in sight.

And if there was one, I’d destroy it before it could reach me. I intend to keep her at my side always.

She calms the monster within enough to look forward to the future, where revenge doesn't exist and my nightmares don't plague me, boiling my blood.

Something stirs inside my dark heart, something besides anger and rage that belongs only to her.

Something that almost makes me believe there is still hope left for the likes of me despite my horrendous past that broke me into tiny pieces I won’t ever be able to put back in perfect alignment.

But maybe… just maybe… this woman will love me even if I have cracks and lost pieces… filling me enough with her own to chase away the emptiness residing in the depths of my soul.

Mi mujer.

Mi bella esposa.

Our hot and all-consuming kiss continues, scorching heat traveling through my veins, and the blood flows to my dick that becomes hard, pushing against the zipper of my pants, needing her wet pussy stretched around it.

She whimpers into my mouth, and I put my hand on her back, finding her zipper and pulling it down, my thumb tracing the slowly exposed skin, enjoying the goose bumps breaking on it, and she shivers slightly from the wind still blasting outside.

She shouldn't worry; I’ll always keep her warm.

Her hands slide to my belt buckle, unhooking it, and her fingers unbutton my pants before pulling the zipper down and letting my dick spring free.

A growl vibrates my throat when she wraps her hand around my length, squeezing it just tight enough to make me pull back from the kiss, breathing in the air around me while she puts her lips on the ax scar I got, thanks to Edward’s client, who…

I scrunch my eyes, willing all the memories to fade away. I don't want to remember pain or anyone else touching me but this woman.

Because her touches are the only ones that matter.

She kisses the scar. I still at the action, not understanding why she isn't repulsed by them. Aren’t they hideous to her?

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