As soon as I slam into the heavy, thick body, I hear guns cock behind me.

I stumble away and look back at Patanza and the other guard, their guns raised in the air, pointed directly at this stranger.

The stranger looks from them to me, his dark eyes flashing. He’s not intimidated at all by them. Not one bit.

“Now . . . who is this one?” he asks in a strong Spanish tongue.

“Don’t fucking worry about it. Put your fucking hands in the air,” Patanza spits, stepping closer, gun still aimed.

She yanks on my shoulder to drag me back behind her.

The other guard steps to my side, but he’s still focused on the man.

The stranger has wide shoulders and really brown skin. His eyes are a shade away from black. They are intense, almost scary. He’s much taller than Patanza and me, but he’s about the same height as the other guard and about the same build.

“Who let you in?” the other guard growls.

“Gatekeeper. He knows why I’m here. And so does Jefe.” The man steals another peek at me. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Right fucking here.” Draco’s voice rises behind me and I whip my head over to look. His eyebrows are drawn together as he glares at the man. There is a gun in his hand now. An all-black handgun.

“Jefe,” the man sings, so nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have guns pointed directly at his face.

“Where are my guns, Thiago?” Draco asks, stone-faced. No politeness. No greeting.

“Your guns?” Thiago chuckles, holding his hands out. “I told you where they were. Fucking stolen.”

“Stolen.” Draco steps around Patanza, eyeing him.

“They were taken, Jefe, and the people that took them let me go. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

“Oh, you’ve lied to me many, many times before, and because you are my cousin, I have given you many, many chances. I see giving you chances was clearly a mistake. My mistake. First my drugs, then the cargo from California, and now my guns?” Draco makes a repeated tsk-ing noise as he looks him over. “Too many excuses. Too many mistakes,” he hisses. “And I have to tell you, I am growing tired of mistakes around here.”

“The guns were taken. That’s all I can say. Some shit about territory.” Thiago shrugs carelessly. “I wasn’t about to get myself killed over one little shipment of guns.”

“This whole country is my territory, motherfucker! That’s no excuse!” Draco gets closer to his face, brows dipped, and his finger on the trigger. “You think that just because my mother tells me to keep you alive that I have to?” He scoffs, waving his gun. “You think you’re safe because you carry my blood in your veins? I’ve killed blood members and never had a fucking problem doing so. I’ve killed them and slept like a baby.” Draco lifts the barrel to Thiago’s head, pointing it at his temple. “Uncles, remember? The same man that fucked me over because he thought I didn’t know anything? And you’re foolish enough to follow right in his footsteps.”

Thiago says nothing. He only stares back, unafraid. His eyes are like charcoal; his skin a few shades darker than Draco’s. He’s fearless.

Draco’s finger wraps around the trigger, but he doesn’t pull. He’s close to doing it, and as he does, Patanza and the other guard steady their aim, ready to take him down, too, if need be.

“How long have you had the puta?” Thiago asks, in English, so I can fully comprehend.

Draco’s upper lip twitches.

He doesn’t hesitate on his next action.

He doesn’t shoot. But he does whack him across the head with the butt of the gun.

Crack!

Thiago’s large body hits the floor with a heavy thud, and a sharp gasp flies through my lips.

“Take her up to my room,” Draco orders without looking back. Patanza makes no room for error. She puts the safety on her gun, tosses it over her shoulder by the strap, and then grabs my wrist, leading the way and trailing up the stairs.

I look back, wondering what Draco is going to do to him. Who the hell is he, anyway?

My heart is pounding so hard.

My palms are sweaty.

I see some of his guards dragging Thiago’s body, and I have a feeling he’s taking him to the cellar. Draco stands in the same place, finger on the trigger, jaw pulsing.

“Sit. Rest,” Patanza orders in her native tongue when we’ve made it to the bedroom.

She looks down, and it’s now when I realize my hands are shaking.

“No one will hurt you. Especially under my watch. If you are important to Jefe, you are important to me. It’s that simple.”

“I thought you didn’t like me,” I respond with an unsteady voice.

“Didn’t, but things are much clearer now. You’re not like the other girls. You never were like them. He knows you well. He admires you.”

I don’t know why I care to ask. “How many girls has he held captive here?”

“Just four, including you. But they don’t really count for being captive. Francesca was only bought because he needed to pay off a debt to some Americans and the people that had her no longer wanted her.” That explained how she knew English so well. “When she came, we all knew she was desperate. She caught Draco at a difficult time—took advantage of it. And the other girl . . . well, she was just stupid. She came here looking for trouble. She claimed she was lost so he kept her because he didn’t trust her to go back out to the world after seeing this place. She got one punishment from Draco and ran away again. She wasn’t tracked. He had some men look for her for about a week, and they found her. She was in an alley. Clothes torn. Throat sliced. She’d been raped and killed.”

I shuddered. “American girl?”

“Half. Her father was from here. She was visiting her dad, but was caught by Bain when she came near this property. She was on the compound, trying to steal. She was born there, though. Yes.”

“What about the last girl?”

She thinks on it. “She just stopped showing up. Haven’t seen her in years.”

She’s lying. I can tell. She’s avoiding my eyes now, which means she knows something and probably isn’t supposed to tell me. “Patanza,” I murmur when she backs away. “Where are we, exactly?”

She swallows thickly, looking around the room. She snatches the map down from the pin board in the corner and then walks back my way.

She points at a name, but says nothing.

“Lantía?” I read out loud. Never have I heard of it.

She jerks her hand away and hurries for the door, not looking back once.

I stare down at the map again.

Lantía. It’s a small city on the Gulf of Mexico. And by small, I mean you could easily miss it if it wasn’t pointed out.

The population here can’t be too big.

I place the map down on the bed and tiptoe toward the door. I hear someone walking, and I think it’s her. But I’m mistaken. She’s still there, talking to someone. Whispering.

“What in the hell is he doing here, anyway?” she hisses.

A deep voice speaks. “Jefe said he’s going to use him as leverage.” I think it’s the other guard that was downstairs.

“Leverage for what?”

“Jefe heard Hernandez is building up the cartel and wants the boss completely out of the territory. He thinks Thiago is handing over the ‘stolen’ goods to Hernandez’s cartel.”

“But why would Hernandez want that? That cartel is supposed to be working for him!” I can hear in Patanza’s voice that she’s pissed that this Hernandez person has gone against Draco.

“It’s the way of the world, P. We can’t control that shit. We just do what the fuck we can to make sure Thiago doesn’t get back to them. He acts innocent, but I don’t trust him. He always comes back empty-handed, and Jefe always accepts it and never does anything to him about it. I don’t trust him . . . don’t give a fuck if he’s family.”

“Draco won’t kill Thiago. They grew up together. Despite their differences, he has too much history with Thiago to just kill him like that. They committed some of their first crimes together.”

“Maybe before,” the other guard sighs, “but I don’t know about it this time. We’ve been hearing Hernandez is trying to make hits on Jefe.”

“From who?”

“Talk around the city. We’re also trying to get No-Arms to talk. He has to know something after being around them before.”

“The guy in the cells?” she asks.

“Yep.”

Ronaldo? I gasp, backing away from the door, but I can still hear them talking.

“Once we get him to talk,” the guard continues, “he wants to send his fucking head to Hernandez to show we aren’t fucking around.”

“Well, good. Fucking traitor,” Patanza spits.

I continue my retreat, looking all around the room, trying to find another way out.

Of course there is only one way, and that is through that door, where two of Draco’s best guards are standing. Waiting.

I hurry for the window and open it. Though all I can see is the ocean, I move myself to the far right to see if I can catch a glimpse of the shed. I can’t.

I promised Ronaldo I would get him out of there. It can’t be true, what they’re saying. The way Ronaldo made it seem, someone turned on him. He got caught because of someone he trusted.

It could have been by someone that works for Hernandez. If that’s the case, he doesn’t deserve to die. I step away from the window and look at the door.

I need to talk to Draco about this. This can’t be right. Ronaldo . . . he helped me. He’s a good person. I could see the goodness in him.

It would be unfair for him to die, when all he wants is to be set free and to forget about this mess.

* * *

When it’s time for dinner, there’s a knock on the door. Patanza comes in and looks at me, bobbing her head in the direction of the door. I nod back, following her out and down the hallway.

When we’ve made it down the staircase, I catch up to her. “Hey, do you think you can take me to the cells tomorrow?”

She glances over. “By yourself? Hell, no.” Her head shakes rapidly. “Jefe would chop my head off, too.”

“I just . . . I need to see them. For myself. I need to know they’re suffering much worse than I did when I was in there. Worse than when Pico . . . did that to me in the cellar.”

She looks me over, her mouth twitching before she speaks. “Why can’t you go down there with him? He’ll be glad to show you what he’s done.” As she says that last sentence, a smirk plays on her lips.

“He has a lot going on right now with that guy who came here.” I fold my arms. “I don’t want to bother him.”

She side eyes me. “I can’t take you down without his permission, Patrona.”

I frown a bit. “Patrona?” I look her over. “Boss? Why are you calling me that?”

“It’s what we are to call you now. Seeing as you are with Draco, and he wants you safe, you are our boss now too, I guess.” Her lips press. “The lady boss.”

“Oh.” I pull my gaze away, scoffing. “Kinda weird.”

She chuckles, and then says, “So, Patrona, forgive me, but I cannot take you down there. I listen to you, but I obey the Jefe’s orders first.”

I look away as we get closer to the dining room. “Okay. I understand.”

When I make it inside the dining room, Mrs. Molina is sitting in her chair, knitting. I don’t see Draco, but I can hear him talking nearby. Maybe the kitchen. I take my usual seat while Patanza stands guard at the door.

Mrs. Molina pauses on her knitting, looking up at me. “You look better,” she says lightly, her smile forced.

“I feel better.” I return the smile.

“Good,” she breathes. “A quick recovery is something Lion always had. He never dwelled on things for too long. I see you get that trait from him.”

I focus on my red fingernails, doing my best not to smile. “I guess.”

She leans over the table a bit, running her eyes all over me. “Has he . . . been good to you since . . . well, you know?”

“He’s not punishing me, so that’s a start.” But if he knew the kind of plan I was hatching right now, I’m sure he’d toss me in a cell and chop my arms off, too.

She sits back, barely nodding. She doesn’t say much more, not that she can continue. Draco is coming from the kitchen to take his seat now. The butlers follow after him, setting hot plates down in front of us.

When they are gone, Mrs. Molina picks up her fork. “Where is your cousin?” she inquires with a soft voice.

Draco doesn’t look at her as he cuts into his pork. “Don’t worry about it, Mamá.”

“You know you can’t kill him. He saved your life once. You owe him.”

“I don’t owe him a damn thing after all the shit he’s caused.” Draco’s hand tightens around the handle of his knife. He snatches a bite off his fork and finally looks at her. “He has to go, Mamá. It’s that simple. He’s causing too much confusion and too many problems. If he doesn’t, it makes me look weak, and everyone knows I’m far from it. I don’t need anyone thinking I’m going soft. He stole from me, and for all I know he might have come here to kill me first. I won’t allow that to happen.”

She stares at him until her eyes well up. “You can’t kill him, Draco. What kind of man would you be to kill your own blood?”

“I killed my uncle and another cousin of mine for stabbing me in the back and thinking they could get away with it. It’s business, and they know it. He knows it, and has ever since I took over, but it didn’t stop him from stealing from me. I don’t take threats from anyone. I am the threat.” His tone is clipped. I watch them stare at one another—she with her lips pressed, he as he chews thoroughly.

I decide to break the silent, thick tension. “Draco, I think I’m ready,” I murmur in English.

And he instantly looks up at me, those brown eyes sparking. “Ready for what?” But I’m sure he already knows.

“To go to the cells. To see them.”

Mrs. Molina’s shoulders tense up.

“To do what?” He watches my eyes.

“You know what,” I tell him.

“Why now? Why today?”

I shrug. “I’m tired of thinking about it. I need to get it over with.” He doesn’t seem very convinced, so I continue. “I just want to forget about what he did to me. And I want them gone as soon as possible. It would make me feel safer here.”

He looks me over once before focusing on his food. “Fine. Tomorrow morning after breakfast.” He cuts into his meat again. “But I hope you’re sure.”

“I am,” I murmur.

But I know I’m not. I don’t know how I’ll get around Draco while I’m in there, but I’ll think of something. I’ll make up an excuse. I always find a way.

* * *

I enter the prisoner’s bedroom I was in before and walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and then stand on the toilet seat before climbing onto the tank.

The ends of my feet hang over the edge, but I grip the windowsill and look out. I see the shed there. There are six men guarding it, all of them strapped with guns and swathed in black and gray camouflage pants.

Shit. There is no way in hell I’m going to sneak in there and break Ronaldo out. Every door of that place is covered, every lock secured.

I step down and then hurry to unlock the door. I grab the bedroom door handle and walk out, but it’s as I do that I hear hissing and whispers.

I look toward the room where I caught Francesca and Bain having sex, and my pulse skitters.

“I don’t give a damn about any of that, Mamá!” Draco’s voice booms from the other side and I flinch. “You think he thought about that when he handed over my shit? He came here, to my home, thinking he had the advantage. He has to die. End of fucking discussion!”

I walk closer to the door but when I see his shadow pass by I pause, eyes growing wide. I see Mrs. Molina’s shadow follow after him and then I hear a loud SMACK.

She slapped him. I cup my mouth, holding back a gasp.

“You are acting like a damn demon, Draco, and I will not tolerate it! I raised you better than this! We do not kill any more family under this roof. You shed any of his blood and, so help me God, I will leave this home and never, ever come back. You will have no one—not even Gia, because I will take her with me too.”

It’s quiet for a moment, but I hear him seething, most likely trying to control his temper.

Mrs. Molina continues talking. “She hates you, don’t you see that? She wants you dead and has ever since you dragged her here. You punish her and then let your men do that to her! Those men, and that disgusting woman, are the ones you should be worried about right now. Not your cousin—them!”

“She isn’t going anywhere,” he growls at her. “She’s mine now. She’s here to stay.”

“Oh, she will go. I will escort her myself.” She pauses. “Unless it’s come to a point in your mind where you think your own mother should be dead for standing in your way, too.” I hear her take a step forward. “Are you going to kill me too, son? For going behind your back? For doing what you know is right?”

Draco doesn’t say anything at all. I know it’s not because he doesn’t want to. I’m sure he has plenty of shit to say, but he respects his mother. Too much.

“That poor girl is suffering. Day by day I am watching her wither away, and I am tired of it. You need to treat her like she matters to you—like a queen, and nothing below it! When Lion promised her to you, he told you what?”

He doesn’t answer. I frown, stepping closer, listening harder.

“What did he tell you, son?” she demands.

“That when I make her mine, I have to protect her. But she isn’t fully mine yet, Mamá. She still has her heart set on her dead husband.”

“Then it is your job to make her forget him.”

“It’s not that fucking simple!” he snaps at her. “Why do you think she hates me, huh? I killed her fucking husband, and I would do it over and over again because that’s exactly what he deserved. That motherfucker didn’t deserve her. She wasn’t promised to him! He stole everything from me, Ma! From us! He wasn’t taking her, too. Fuck that. I don’t care if I have to break and bend her into submission. I don’t care if she hates me right now. Hatred can always be reversed. I’ll tell her the truth. I will show her what I am capable of and why she needs me—why she’s always needed me. He didn’t fucking love her. He was using her, but she was too blinded by his pretty face and his tricky ways to realize it.”

“Hijo,” Mrs. Molina whines.

“No, Ma. No. Just don’t worry about it anymore. Let me handle Gianna. She’s not going anywhere. She has nowhere to go and we both know it. Her best bet is to stay here with me.”

“Then promise me something,” Mrs. Molina pleads.

He sighs. “What?”

“Promise you won’t punish her anymore. Don’t starve her. Treat her like you want to give her the world. Don’t treat her like how you did Francesca.”

“Fuck Francesca,” he spits. “Gianna may not be coming around now, but she will. She’ll understand why I did what I did to her. I wanted her to forget him, and if that meant making her suffer for a little while, then it had to be done. She needed to focus on me. She needed to see that, unlike him, I am the real threat. I am the one she needs. She’s a smart girl. She’s not stupid. She’s a lot smarter than we think. She knows a lot of shit, and I don’t trust her,” he rasps. “I don’t sleep with both eyes shut around her. She wants me dead, and I know it, but soon those thoughts will change.” He releases a bitter laugh. “Truth is, I’d much rather break her first than have her end up breaking me. I did those things because I wanted her to recognize her strength. My woman has to be strong. There is no doubt about that. I didn’t want her getting used to any of that soft shit Trigger Toni used to do with her.

“She was promised to me. And when she’s ready, I will tell her everything she doesn’t know. But until then, I need you to stay out of it. I need you to trust me. I won’t hurt her anymore. I won’t kill her. And I damn sure won’t let her run. Gianna is mine, and my queen has a lot to learn. I won’t let her slip through my fingers. Not again.”

I stumble backwards, gaping.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” I spin around rapidly and meet Patanza’s eyes. Hers are narrowed, her arched eyebrows pinned together.

“I was in the other room,” I state quickly, pointing at the guest bedroom I was in. “There was something I forgot.”

She looks me over with her narrowed gaze, but doesn’t speak.

I return to Draco’s bedroom and push the door open, but not before looking back at Patanza. She walks forward and shoos me in, and then shuts the door behind me.

I slump down on the edge of the bed, staring down at my red toenails. I don’t know what the hell I just heard. I was promised to him? Why would Daddy promise me to a man like him?

He knew I loved Toni. Is that why Draco killed him? Because I was in love with another man but was promised to him?

Is he really that fucking insane? Toni couldn’t help it, and neither could I. Daddy wasn’t a fan of us at first either, but I told him I loved Toni, and he eased up on the idea of us as a couple. He grew to respect it . . . or so I thought.

But now that I think about it, Daddy never really liked being around us. He accepted it, but he didn’t like it. Whenever Toni came over, he would pull him to the side or put him on a quick run with one of his people, just to keep him away from me for as long as possible.

And of course Toni had to listen. Daddy was pretty much his boss. Toni ran his own side jobs, but he worked mainly for Daddy. Most of his money came from the almighty Lion.

I hear footsteps outside my door and then I hear Draco speaking.

“Have you checked on her?” he asks.

“No, Jefe,” Patanza says, and relief washes over me. I don’t know why she’s protecting me so much lately. I’m surprised she’s not snitching on me like Bain or the maids.

“Go take a break if you need it,” he tells her. “Eat. Wash. Do whatever you need to do. I’ve got her covered for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, sir.”

I hear Patanza stroll off, and it doesn’t take long at all for the door to open and for him to step inside. He looks me right in the eyes while shutting the door behind him, and his lips press together as he walks to the middle of the room, looking me over.

“I’m not taking you to the cells tomorrow,” he declares.

I frown, sitting up straight. “What? Why not?”

“Because you’re not ready.”

“Yes, I am!”

He blinks slowly. “No, you’re not, and I won’t argue with you about it.” He turns and walks to the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.

I hop off the bed and follow him inside. “Draco, I’m ready. I swear!”

“You want to speak to your friend. I’m not stupid.” He looks at me, eyes hard like steel. “One of my men watches the tapes from the camera we have down there. He informed me not too long ago that you two got along really well in there. Lots of whispering, but never loud enough for them to be able to hear you. I thought nothing of it, until we heard him call you by your full name last night.”

I swallow the bile in my throat, backing away.

“For the record, his name is not Ronaldo,” he informs me.

“Then what is it?”

He gives me a thorough sideways glance before responding. “Henry Ricci.”

“Ricci?” I gasp.

“Blood of your ex-husband’s. His second cousin, actually.”

“Why do you have him?” I ask.

He slides out of his shirt and places it on top of the counter. He then turns and walks to the shower to turn it on. “He was spying on me. I caught him.”

“And you cut off his arms for that?”

“Can’t hold cameras anymore, can he?”

I shake my head, walking forward. “Did Toni tell him to watch you?”

“No, actually. Your father gave the order a few months before he passed away.”

“How do you know this?” I fold my arms, wary of his next answer.

“He told me—Lion did. About a week before he died, when he realized Henry wasn’t answering his phone. Claimed he was checking up on me to make sure I wasn’t causing too much trouble. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing anything too stupid down here.”

“Why would Daddy care what you were doing? And why would he send Toni’s second cousin?”

“Henry needed a job. He was good with cameras. Lion agreed to pay him well, even though he knew there was a chance Henry would get caught.”

“That doesn’t explain why you have him in there— or why you cut off his arms.” I’m mad now. What a stupid, stupid excuse.

“Blood of Toni. And I know he works with an enemy of mine, he’s just not talking.”

“What enemy? He never said anything about Toni while we were down there.”

Draco scoffs. “Of course he didn’t. He didn’t want you to know. Makes it easier for you to rescue him. But you won’t be doing that, because you won’t be going to the shed. And Toni isn’t the enemy I’m talking about.”

Hernandez.

“He knows I loved Toni,” I state boldly.

Draco turns around fully, nostrils flared now. “Don’t say that shit around me.” He storms past me, into the closet.

I turn with him. “Well, I did love him. And you can’t change that, Draco.”

“No?” He tugs down a white T-shirt from a neatly folded stack, picking up a pair of jeans next, and then walking around me to place the clothes down on the bed. When he’s done with that, he looks at me again and steps closer.

His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he reels me in. His mouth runs across mine and a buzz rides through my body. The buzz is hot and thick and hard to ignore, making my skin tingle. He hasn’t touched me like this in a long time. Not since what happened in the cellar. “You loved a man that didn’t love you, Gianna,” he murmurs when his lips come up to my ear.

I snatch my body away from him. “You don’t know what we had.”

“A hit man like Trigger Toni is incapable of love. If you made him angry enough, he would have probably killed you too.”

“Shut up,” I snap.

“It’s the truth and you know it. You’ve seen him react. He proved himself quite dangerous, no?”

“Shut up!”

Draco grimaces and jerks me forward again. He grabs my hair and wrenches my head back with a heavy tug. He does it so my mouth is angled up and my eyes are only on him.

“I see you got some of your fire back.” He smirks and I want to slap it right off of his beautifully twisted face. “The sooner you get over him, the better, niñita.”

“What did he do to you?” I pant, grimacing back.

“He ruined my fucking life. That’s what he did.”

“How?! You’re still standing here. You’re still alive and he’s not. Tell me how!”

“You’re not ready to know how just yet.” He snatches his hand away and walks to the bathroom again. He unbuttons his khakis and they drop down around his ankles. When he reaches for the hem of his briefs and his eyes meet mine, I jerk my gaze away and walk to my side of the bed.

I hear the shower door open and then close. There is an uncomfortable silence . . . for a while anyway.

“Gianna. Come here,” he calls.

I frown, looking toward the bathroom. “Why?”

“Come. Now.”

Rolling my eyes, I walk to the bathroom, spotting his opaque silhouette from the doorway.

“Shut the door.”

I shut it, but don’t come any closer.

“Get undressed and come in the shower with me.”

“I already took one this morning,” I respond with folded arms.

“Well, come and take another one. I won’t say it again.”

I can’t help the second roll of my eyes. He stands beneath the stream and pushes his wet hair out of his face.

I can’t fight. I can’t resist. I have to remember that. I need him wrapped around my finger, and that starts with doing whatever he wants me to do. For right now, anyway.

He already has people calling me Patrona. Their boss? That’s progress.

I get undressed rather slowly and then make my way to the shower door. He pushes it open, welcoming me in without saying a word. His hard eyes travel up and down my body, locking on my breasts and especially the area between my thighs.

He steps beneath the water so I can get in. I watch it cascade over him and his hard, sculpted muscles, but his eyes are still open. It falls through his hair and down his face, running over his full lips and flared nostrils.

He always looks so serious and hostile, even during the calm moments. I’m starting to think that’s just the way his face was made.

I close the shower door and as soon as I do, he steps forward and wraps his hands around my middle. He pulls me back into him, and I feel his hard cock pressing on my ass.

“I hate when you try to hide from me,” he rasps in my ear.

“How am I hiding?”

“Under those clothes. Beneath your distress. Beneath layers and layers of conflicted emotions. Stop pretending this isn’t real, because it is.”

He grabs the back of my thigh and forces my knee on the wall. His cock slides between the crack of my ass, and he lowers himself, wrenching my legs apart so that his tip is pressing on the entrance of my pussy.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he grumbles, deep and heavy. “Because you need it.” He kisses the top of my ear and I shudder. “I know you do.”

He grips my waist tight with one hand and uses the other to press it on the back of my head. He forces my forehead on the wall, and a ragged breath passes through me when I feel him slowly entering me.

Each slow, measured thrust fills me up, and I don’t know why his patience bothers me. His hands are aggressive, pinning me to this shower wall, but the fact that he’s taking his time to “fuck” me bothers me.

He needs to be hard and rough.

He needs to keep making me hate him.

I don’t need delicacy right now.

I need fire and fuel and something deep down is telling me that he knows it. But he won’t provide it because he loves having control over my needs.

He strokes slowly, releasing my waist and bringing that hand up to cup one of my breasts. He lets my head go so he can spread my ass and sink his cock in deeper. A deep groan rattles in his throat. I feel the vibration of it on my shoulder.

“Draco,” I call, my voice shaky. Not from fear, but from pure euphoria. I don’t know why I call him, but he answers.

“Sí, mi reina,” he murmurs, picking up speed. Skin slaps and water splashes between us.

“Stop,” I moan.

“No.” His hand comes up to the back of my neck and he holds it tight. “I won’t stop.” He growls deep, stroking in faster, drilling me even harder from behind.

“Oh, God,” I breathe, eyes squeezing shut.

Pulling his hand away, he turns my head sideways so that my cheek is on the wall now, instead of my forehead. Droplets of water collect on my skin, my lips.

“Look back,” he demands, “right at me.”

I squeeze my eyes tighter instead, but he pulls my hair, yanking it back and leaving me no choice but to look at him.

When hard brown matches green, he leans in and crushes my lips with his. His hard chest rests on my back, his thick cock still filling me up. In and out he goes, while his tongue works its magic with mine.

His body is glued to me and my leg is hitched up, my knee pressed on the wall to help keep balance. His hips works in circles, giving long, full thrusts now, like a rhythmic pattern, and at first I hate it, that he’s touching me like this—claiming my body as if it’s his own, but then he pulls his lips away from mine and says, “I will make you forget it all. What happened only days ago. Your ex. Everything. I will make it so that all you think about while you’re here is me, Gianna, and that is my fucking word.”

His wet mouth is on my ear, his breath warm as it trickles past. He reaches around and grazes his middle finger across my clit, cupping my pussy in his hands and forcing my hips back to bury himself even deeper.

A whimper escapes me from that action alone. The back of my head drops down on top of his shoulder and he presses those full lips to my neck, sucking away the droplets of warm water and replacing them with burning hot kisses.

His body stiffens behind me and then he sighs loud and deep, thrusting hard into my pussy several times before emptying himself inside me.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good. I’ve waited for you for so long, niñita.” He brings a hand up and rakes his fingers through my hair. “It feels a hundred times better than I imagined it would feel.”

He finally pulls out and spins me around. I stare up at him, watching water coat his thick eyelashes.

“Mine,” he says, his lips so close I can feel the heat of them. “Say it. You are mine.”

I release a tattered breath as he glides a hand down my hip and cups my ass. He hauls me closer so I can really feel him, the water drifting down, sliding on our skin.

I don’t want to say it, but he doesn’t look away. And he won’t pull away until I do. I know I can’t deny it now.

“I am yours,” I whisper, and then I grip his face in my hands, leaving him no choice but to pick me up in his arms and hold me in his large hands.

I didn’t think it would be possible to steal Draco’s breath away, but when I do this—kiss him so deep and tenderly, as if I care—I hear him sigh and groan and shudder beneath the embrace.

I feel him let go and melt, even if the feeling is faint and slight. I feel him, and when my tongue slides between his lips and dances with his, that’s when I know I have him.

All of him.

He thinks I am his. Truthfully, he has it backwards.

I am not his.

He is mine.