Malo - Page 68

She parts her legs and hooks them around me, drawing me in, and I press myself against her. The warmth and wetness of her pussy is so inviting, but there’s a part of me that wants to hold back and linger in this anticipation for a little longer.

In the end, I can’t hold off for long. At last, I sink inside her, thrusting in to the hilt, and I watch as her eyes roll back and smile at the rush of pleasure consuming her.

“Fuck,” she moans, her eyes fluttering open once more and locking on to mine. “That feels so good.”

I wrap my arms around her, drawing her even closer to me. It’s like I want to be inside her skin, nothing bringing me near enough, needing her body and her touch and her affection from someplace deep down inside of me.

She squeezes her thighs around me and I move into her even deeper, burying myself up to the hilt with each stroke. She brushes her lips along my neck and over my jaw, inhaling deeply, like she’s taking in every part of me she can get. I can tell from the way the insides of her thighs are starting to twitch that she’s close to the edge, and I know I want to take her there. I need to feel her lose herself to this pleasure, the two of us finally giving in and letting go after everything that’s happened. For so long, it felt like there was no way I would ever be able to be with her without the weight of everything else hanging over my head, but here, now? It feels possible. It feels perfect.

I shift my hips so that I’m grinding against her clit with every thrust, and she lets out a low moan, gasping as the sensation takes control of her. Seeing her like this, has me close. I love watching her let herself be completely overtaken by the way that it feels. I move in deep, slow, savoring the wetness and tightness wrapped around my cock, and then, at last, I feel it.

She grasps onto me for dear life as she reaches her release, clinging on to me as though she can’t imagine letting go of me, not now, not ever. Her hips rise up to meet mine, pushing against me, grinding into me helplessly as her pussy clenches around my cock, over and over again. I kiss her, inhaling her breath as she goes over the edge, letting the sensation push me toward my own release and then, at last, I push deep, and come inside of her.

I hold myself there for a long moment, not ready for this to be done. The pleasure is so intense it blurs the corners of my vision, but I can still see her—still see the look on her face, the way her eyes shine as she gazes up at me, as though she can hardly believe this is real. I know how she feels. After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve survived, it seems like a miracle for us to just be here together like this, without having to live in fear, without having to glance over our shoulders and keep track of whatever is right on our tail. No, we can just, finally, be, and it feels fucking fantastic.

I hold myself inside of her for a long moment before I pull back, and she groans as I do so, a grin spreading over her face. I roll off of her and onto my back, and pull her against my chest, pressing my face into her hair. I still can’t get close enough to her, it just doesn’t feel possible, like I’m addicted, there’s nothing better in the world than being here with her.

She lifts her head after a few moments, her cheeks flushed, and smiles at me.

“That was amazing,” she murmurs, reaching up to caress my cheek. Her touch is so tender, so soft, and it feels like I can really enjoy the smaller details of our intimacy now. With no drugs to fall back on, no stress or fear to get in the way of it, I can finally just let myself get lost to this sensation.

“It was,” I reply, and I brush my lips against her temple as she slumps back against my chest happily, her hand over my heart, as it begins to slow back down to a regular pace once more.

I know I still have to finish clearing out this room, but right now, all I can think of is lying here with her.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s all so new to me. Sure, I’ve been with plenty of women before her. I’ve had flings, affairs, hook-ups, whatever you want to call it, but never felt something like this, not as long as I’ve lived. It’s a peace, not this urge to fill the silence with words, or get up and go as soon as the sex part is over. I’m happy just to lie here with her in the quiet. In fact, it feels… good.

She brings a tranquility to me that I’ve never felt before in my life. Not even when I was using. I thought the drugs helped me get my head in order, but now, I can see that they just added to the clutter and confusion in my head. Now I’m here, in the soft quiet of the early morning, with Maria by my side, nothing else in the world matters. Nothing outside of this bedroom, at least.

Because I know I don’t have to hide anything from her. No, I can just be honest with her. She’s seen so much of what I’ve endured, and none of that has been enough to scare her off or get her to rethink this. She’s been here every step of the way, coming to the cartel hideout to join the fight, so brave even if it could have gone horribly wrong.

And Harley… Harley came out to join the fight too. It’s the first time Harley has crossed my mind that isn’t followed by a jolt of pain and guilt, the same pain and guilt that pushed me to use again. Maybe… maybe I can forgive myself for what happened there. I know Beast already has, and perhaps I need to let go of the pain I’ve been carrying, all the blame I’ve been hanging on to, and that’s what matters.

I close my eyes, and turn my head so I can rest my chin against her. Her breathing is starting to slow and smooth now, as she finally begins to get some real rest. I’m sure she’s exhausted after everything that’s happened, especially spending the last few hours by her father’s bedside. She’s a damn good daughter, and I’m sure he knows that. I can’t imagine many woman who would be willing to go through everything she did to get him to safety.

But she’s strong. And brave. And smart. She’s got so much going for her, and she still seems to want to spend time with me. It’s hard to believe, in some ways, hard to wrap my head around, but I don’t want to question it. Maybe it’s time for me to just take what’s in front of me, accept that this is real and it’s good, rather than trying to find some way out of it, trying to find some way that it’s all going to go to shit.

The cartel are done for, and it feels like a weight off my shoulders, a weight I didn’t even realize I’d been carrying all this time. Not since I came to the Kings, but before that, when I saw those people chained up in the warehouse, overseen by Chuy. Ever since then, I’ve been determined to take the cartel down, one way or another, and that’s consumed my mind. But now? Now, it feels as though I can finally start to let go, and focus on what comes next.

Whatever that might look like.

I close my eyes, ignoring the mess of my room around me. I know I’ll need to get it in order soon enough, but that can wait a while. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing that matters right now is sleeping in my arms, and I can’t wait until we wake up again, and can pick up right where we left off.

Slowly, I feel myself drifting off to sleep, matching the slow rise and fall of my breath with hers.

CHAPTER 47

MARIA

“You should be careful,” I warn my father, as he makes his way over to the door to get some fresh air. “You don’t want to take a fall when you’re just starting to do better.”

He rolls his eyes skyward, but I can tell my fussing doesn’t bother him really.

“I’m fine, Maria. Estoy bien,” he tells me, and he pushes open the door and steps outside. I follow him, leaning my head on his shoulder for a moment as the two of us gaze up at the sun beating down on the back of the Kings’ compound.

It’s hard to believe it’s been nearly a month since my father arrived here, because he’s come so far in that time. I can still remember, all too vividly, just what state he was in when he got here, how weak he seemed, how frail, his body spattered with bruises, telling of all the beatings he had taken when he was under the cartel’s control. If they hadn’t been well and truly dealt with by now, I would have gone there myself and made them pay for what they did to my father.

But, as he leans back against the small infirmary building, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, I can’t help but smile. He looks so much better already. I know his body will likely still suffer from the long-term effects of what happened to him, but he’s back on his feet, he’s walking, he’s eating, he’s even cooking every once in a while.