I see a movement and, damn if I don’t see Saban standing to the side of the bar with Ellie. I don’t even think as I step off theback of the dais, allowing Padre to take my position, as we’ve been trained never to leave our president unguarded.
“Ángel de la Muerte, the conqueror of the Rudy, nosotros saludamos” Rocco says with his glass raised. I barely notice how the crowd makes barely a whisper as I make my way over the woman who I was so sure would not be here tonight while he recounts the story of how Angel came upon Rudy and his crew, called our riders and the melee that ensued.
“You’re here.” Staring down at her much shorter form, I will her to look up at me. For a moment, I think she won’t or she can’t — maybe scared of what those expressive eyes of hers will give away. She’s wearing a pleated mini-skirt, a rarity because she mostly jeans and Henley kind of girl as much as she like being a princess she wears what most practical around here to work and remain under the radar of the men who frequent this place. I guess she got the memo because Easy is wearing a white one, and so are the twins.
“Always for Easy. I-if she hadn’t encouraged me like she did, I don’t know how I would have made it through.” Tipping her head up, she meets my gaze for all of a hot second before shrugging like it doesn’t matter after all. “Anyway, I have to tell Lourdes all the gossip since she’s definitely banned from ever popping up here.”
“Hmm, just don’t stay too long.” My words sound harsh. I can’t help it. The need to protect her is a vicious thing in my chest.
“Sure thing, Primo.” Her flippant answer almost makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and march out of here.
“I have a lot on me tonight.” Is as close to an apology as I can come as I scan the crowd for any possible threat.
“Umhm, I bet.” Ignoring the snide implication, I don’t bother denying what she believes about me. What I’ve allowed her to believe.
“Aight, be safe.” I’m about to move away before we either end up fighting or in a worse, far more physical tangle when Angel raises his hand.
Inwardly I groan, already knowing this crazy-ass motherfucker is going to do exactly what I advised him not to do — a public worship of his queen.
I can tell from the look on his face and the look he slides her as she settles her on the throne it has more to do with something between them than the MC and the cartel bosses assembled.
Rooted in my spot,I feel Saban taking a step back. Already knowing her mind is going back to the couple’s first time together and what happened. I don’t move when I feel her hot, curvy little body pressed up against mine.
My dick is already hard as fuck when I get a whiff of the vanilla-rose and the soft brush of her of locs that barely come to rest just shy of my chest. Every fucking second I inhale is a recipe for my destruction.
“Damn,” I mutter, seeing Angel fold his body between Easy’s spread legs. Saban twists her eyes, locking with mine. Nothing, and I mean not one fucking thing, can drag my gaze from the lock of those caramel orbs. The liquid heat in them is so compelling my fist to unclench enough for my arm to band around her lush midsection, drawing her tighter against me.
I tear my eyes away from her, nodding to the stage. Her supple little belly trembles as she watches the show our friends are putting on for us on the stage.
Dick throbbing as it’s pressed into the small of her back, I let myself have this — have her, for this brief moment. My fingers on her bare stomach are just shy of the waistband of the pleated mini skirt she has on. She sucks her tummy in, making my hand dip lower. Of its own accord, my hand travels lower. Knowing I should stop, I draw back. A small hand captures mine, holding it in place.
Pressing it lower, she slowly drags it down until I’m touching the soft down of her pussy.
“Fuck, baby girl.” The plea tears from me when I find her drenched for me. This little motherfucker is so hot. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m chuffed that it’s for me.
Knowing I can’t leave her in this state, I spear my fingers between her two plump lips. Opening her to me, I slide my fingers along her softness. Her pussy weeps for me. My chest tightens. She opens her pretty legs, allowing me better access. Slowly, keeping my touch light as a butterfly’s wings, I play with her hard little clit.
“Is this what you do when you think of me, little torment?” Growling down into her ear, I rock my hard as fuck dick against her to let her know what she’s doing to me and to ease some of the ache in my balls.
She nods her head where it’s resting on my chest. Seemingly robbed of words, too busy to work her hot little snatch against my fingers, she grips my arm as if she’s afraid I’m going to be a bitch and leave her hanging.
“I got you, querida,” bending low, I promise in her ear, tugging and sucking her lobe in my mouth.
“Come for me, baby.” Speeding up my fingers, I deepen my touch until I feel her gasping shudder as her essence spills over my fingers.
Easing my fingers free, watching as she watches me, I hold her slitted gaze as I bring the glistening digits to my mouth, licking them clean.
She tastes like honey, spice and everything mine. Her pussy’s taste is sweet as ambrosia was rumored to be.
Knowing I fucked up does not a regret make. In fact, I feel like she has me wide open right now, and I don’t care who knows it. The claim I just made on her makes it clear to all present whoshe belongs to. No different from the work I put in on her behalf to Rudy and his worthless crew.
Several gazes war with the show on the dais versus what they see transpiring between Saban and me.
Angel stands, pulling Easy into his arms. The crowd spreads again, giving him the room he needs as he takes his wife to their loft.
The crowd is a live wire ready to explode into activity. Knowing the crowd of el Diablo riders present along with our invited guests as I do, I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t a couple of murders taking place tonight and definitely a lot of fucking in the corner and out in the open, a direct violation of the rule which I won’t allow.
“First round of drinks is on el Presidente of el Diablo in honor of his wife.” Ellie calls out, already pouring shots to the people lining the bar.
