Like they’re beautiful. I’d let her have total control whenever she wants it. I press my lips to her jaw, kissing slowly, keeping my body between her legs. Because I wouldn’t put it past Luisa Santiago to kick me in the dick if given the chance.
My breath brushes her ear, rough, uneven.
“I’ll spare the officers for you,” I rasp.
“Why?” she hums, then bites my throat. Hard.
I grunt, unsure if she’s punishing me or just proving she can.
Either way, she’s playing a dangerous game.
Because if she’s not careful, she’s going to wake the animal in me.
“Why would you let them live?”
I exhale, keeping my control on a knife’s edge. “Because cutting out their tongues would bother you.”
I let the words sink in, let my lips graze her jaw, a slow, deliberate tease.
“And I don’t want to bother you.”
She huffs. “You bother me constantly.”
Then she grabs me, steals my mouth, takes what she wants. I don’t let women take from me. But I let her. Her lips are hot, wild, but before I can take control, she pulls back, panting.
“Now shut up before I convince myself not to do this.”
I grin against her lips. “I didn’t say I was offering a damn thing.”
My hands trail up her thighs, slow and teasing.
Because the truth is?—
I want her. I’ve always wanted her. It’s stupid. I’m not allowed to want her. It will damn her. I can only fuck her if I use it against her—if I turn her desire into aweapon. Otherwise, I’m no better than some hormonal guy thinking with his dick.
But then, her tongue curls in my mouth like she’s rolling the ‘r’ in some Spanish word and I’m lost.
I grind my hips against hers, hunger curling low in my gut, then reach for the top of her pants?—
Pop. The button gives. Luisa gasps, her body arching back, breath uneven. Then her fingers dig into my chest.
“You don’t get to fuck me.”
My breath catches, but I keep my expression smooth. I let a slow smile curl my lips.
“Of course not.”
I nibble along her jaw, my lips dragging over her pulse, then cup her full breast, squeezing. She tilts her head up to me, her gorgeous questioning eyes locking onto mine.
For a second, she’s searching, like she’s trying to see past all the things I pretend to be.
I press my forehead to hers, my grip tightening, massaging her breast, greedy, unrelenting.
I shake my head, voice rough. “I won’t cut out those bastards’ tongues.”
Her breath hitches. I squeeze again, dragging my thumb over her nipple, rolling it through the fabric.
“But I’ll break their fucking jaws for talking shit about you.”
