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  “Motherfuck,” I groan, voice low, yet she sighs in her sleep as if she’s heard me. There’s also the way she lifts one knee, further opening herself to me. Gifting me access to what I need to satiate our hunger—that primal fucking need for each other.

  Amberlyn can’t fall asleep without coming first, and I suffer when it’s not around my cock.

  She’s a restless nymph with an appetite that rivals my own, and I live to see those light brown eyes roll back and her lips part in a seductive gasp—the feel of those thighs trembling around my hips and the sweet way she digs her fingernails into my back, leaving her mark behind.

  Then, there are her toys for the days I’m not around. They range from the simple to light bondage—from intense to hours of teasing—and yet her favorite is the replica of my cock we made together two years ago. What started off as a joke, a teasing birthday gift, became a badge of pride for me.

  Her desire for me makes me feel like a god.

  Her need gives my life a purpose I didn’t know had been missing.

  Leaving you here is going to be so hard, sweetheart. My eyes adjust to the dark, the only source of light coming from the half-closed blinds. They give me just enough illumination to find her wand a few inches from her sleeping form, and I bite my lip. There’s no doubt her pussy is wet and wanting. My favorite dessert. Fuck, she’s perfect.

  Taking the few short steps between us, I pause beside her nightstand and turn the bedside lamp on to the lowest setting. It’s just bright enough for me to appreciate her beauty without waking her, and I walk back to the end of the bed and place a knee on it, and then the other. The mattress dips under my weight and then settles, slightly shifting as I crawl over her soft skin while removing the thin sheet. I’m careful and keep every touch lingering, maintaining most of my weight off while I enjoy the view beneath me.

  She’s soft, tan skin and long dark hair with bright scarlet highlights. Red has always been her signature style, from the fire-engine tones she used in her teens, to the now jet-black strands with delicate pieces in a lighter devilish shade that frame her delicate face.

  The contrast suits her, even if I miss the way it looked in high school.

  At least she keeps it long and wears it loose just the way I like it.

  I reach out and grab the end of one loose curl and twirl it around a finger. “One day, I’ll make everything up to you.” It’s my endless vow each time I come to her in the dead of night, the blood of an enemy still fresh on my skin. Not that she’ll push me away. Instead, she loves me harder and then helps me wash away my sins. “My beautiful little sirenita.”

  I’ve kept my little mermaid a secret all these years.

  The first time I kissed her was a week before Thiago turned himself in to the authorities, and I used her crush to our advantage. The first time I made her mine was on the anniversary of his imprisonment when she came to me, tried to make me feel better when my own guilt threatened to drown me, and I’ve never been able to put a stop to this affair.

  Amberlyn has become my only. I won’t touch another woman.

  But I also know what this life does to people, and I owe her more than this. Than being selfish.

  “You’ll bear my last name one day. Take over the world with me.” Lowering my body against hers, I keep her face down while positioning my cock at her entrance. Her skin is soft, and I shiver at the first contact; she’s my heaven. There’s also a hint of awareness in her, a small arch to her back and a pucker of those plump lips, but she’s not fully awake and resettles. Nevertheless, when she’s like this, all warm and vulnerable—this is when I lower my own guard. Love her the way I’ll fight to make our future. “But not yet, sweetheart. Just give me a little time.”

  “Time?” Voice low and groggy.

  Ignoring her question, I rub the engorged head of my dick against her opening, just letting her feel me. Letting her wetness coat, kiss my flesh. “You’re so wet, bebe.”

  “Always for you.” There’s a hint of a whine when I slip the head inside and pull out. Once. Twice. Three times. “You’re mean.”

  “And you love it.”

  Amberlyn smiles at that, eyes shifting toward the alarm clock, but stops when I nip her shoulder. She doesn’t deny it. Me. “What time is it, papi?”

  “Too early for you to be awake.”

  “But I need you.” Those four words and her pout destroy any self-control I have left. Her body shivers beneath me when I grip her hips, pinning her against the mattress, but it’s her face I focus on when I thrust inside. One smooth stroke and I’m nestled deep within her warmth while a peaceful smile graces her mouth. Beautiful. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I know.” That curl of her lips stretches right before she bites down on the plump flesh and I watch the shift, memorize each sigh and whimper as if it were a slow reel—a private movie just for me. Time slows down as I take her body, never pausing the pump of my hips, fucking her hard and rough, yet all I can focus on is her pleasure.

  On making sure she can feel me for days after. Craves me when I’m not here.

  I’ll never accept her loving someone else. Wait for me.

  “You’re my perfection, bebe,” I hiss out after she clenches, her walls gripping me so fucking tight. Her wetness coats me, the sweet nectar grazing my balls and upper thighs and spreading more with each piston of my hips, the drops making a mess of her too. Amberlyn tries to move, to meet my thrusts, but my weight doesn’t allow it. I’m in control of her pleasure. “So wet and tight just for me.”

  “Papi, I—”

  “Tell me, Sirenita.” I slam in deep and hold still, just giving her small flexes of my cock. “Tell your papi what you need.”

  But I know what she’s missing. What she always craves.

  “You. Always you.”

  Three words now sit on the tip of my tongue. Everything within me demands that I tell her, but I bite them back. The day I say them, I’ll be hers. Can’t have it any other way, and that can’t happen until I settle my responsibility to our family.

  Thiago gave up so much for us, and now it’s my turn.

  I need to eradicate any threat to her happiness.

  One day, baby girl. I promise. “Good girl,” I say instead and pull out slowly, dragging my thickness against her pulsing walls. The cool air of the room greets my slick cock. My balls feel heavy, but I’m focused on the way she trembles in anticipation.

  And I let her while kneeling behind her. For a few minutes we stay like this.

  No contact. No relief.

  But it doesn’t last long; I can’t help myself and unconsciously start running my fingertips up the back of her legs, taking my time while following the path to her asscheeks. Her hips gyrate against the bed, a sweet offering, but still once I grip them tightly again.

  With both hands I pull her up and onto all fours, her holes clenching—searching for my dick. Motherfuck, she’s a work of art. So mine. My hand comes down over her right cheek and then left, a little harder than I intend, but she responds with a moan and a wiggle of her hips. I smirk at the sight. At the pink highlight of my palm on her flesh before slamming back in.

  I don’t pause or slow down or so much as breathe while fucking in deep and pulling out, riding her hard and fast like she craves. Because this is what we live for. What we both need.

  It’s a clawing need that tears us apart and then rebuilds the pieces into one being. One heart.

  The slap of our skin is loud inside her room, obscene, but not enough.

  I need more.

  So does she.

  A growl rips from my throat as I bring a hand to her neck and bring her up with me into an almost sitting position. My cock is nestled deep, her back to my chest, and the sharp breath she lets out at the change in angle brings a smile to my face.

  Still not enough.

  For a second my eyes shift to the wand not far from us, but jealousy licks at my blood. Toys can be fun when we play together, but
not this time. Right now, there’s an overwhelming urgency to imprint my touch into her every pore. Her soul. So I cup her with my other hand, fingers against her clit while pumping in and out.

  Almost punishing as I take what will always be mine.

  No rabbit or dildo or wand could ever replace what only I can make her feel.

  Three deep strokes and she trembles.

  Two rough circles over her trembling bundle of nerves and she tenses.

  “Come, bebe. Give me what’s mine,” I hiss out, the sound primal and hungry. Her walls tighten at the demand and her back arches. It’s near difficult to move, but I refuse to stop. Instead, I keep a rough pace while rubbing her clit. While watching the tantalizing way her bigger-than-a-handful tits, dusky-pink nipples hard, bounce for me.

  “Papi, I’m so—”

  I cut her off by tightening my hand on her neck, my lips now at her ear. Nip the shell. “Motherfucking come, love.”

  Amberlyn’s mouth opens, but no words come out; she always comes so prettily.

  She spasms, pussy so tight I bottom out and let her massage the come from me. And she does. These small gyrations and the feel of her juices coating—bathing my length—rob me of my senses. Everything within me throbs. So painfully sweet.

  “Oh God,” she moans, and brings one of her own hands down to cover mine cupping her. Amberlyn presses it harder, moving my fingers over her while pleasure rips me in two, and I empty every drop inside her warmth. We're a mess. Satiated and tired, but I refuse to pull out and slowly lower us down to the bed again and turn us so I’m curled around her much smaller frame.

  No words are exchanged.

  No declarations.

  I know this always makes her sad, but I can’t offer more until I make things right.

  Soon. I mouth against the back of her head once I know she’s asleep and pull her closer. Let my touch soothe her for now. Let it calm down my own urge to forget my commitments and drag us to Vegas to tie us together.

  My phone beeps then from down her hall and I exhale roughly, closing my eyes for a few minutes. It pings again, Thiago’s tone this time, and it’s a reminder of what happened yesterday and the mess left behind by our livestock.

  I should’ve reported to him the moment I stepped back on American soil.

  I should’ve told him I’m okay and my crew is safe after visiting my forced-to-snitch friend, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Not when the only thing that mattered was seeing—being with my sirenita and making sure she’s safe and taken care of. Knowing someone has been watching isn’t the issue, because as Dalian follows her, I have a tail on him. He’d never get close enough to touch, much less savor the sweet scent of sugar cookies that surrounds her.

  It’s that someone dared covet what’s mine.

  That’s an insult to me as a man.

  I’m a killer. Dangerous.

  Bound by an oath and my own life plan, but more importantly, I protect what’s mine.

  I give myself another few seconds to soak up her sweet scent and warmth before slipping from the bed. Quietly, I fix the sheet and cover her before leaning over and kissing the corner of her mouth. Amberlyn doesn’t stir but sighs, and it pains me to walk away once again.

  One day I’ll openly love and cherish this beautiful woman and lay the world at her feet.

  I just need time.

  “Be patient with me.”

  4

  SHE’S CLOSE.

  I can feel her warmth from across the near-full room at my brother’s rehearsal dinner two days later, and it’s an indulgence I’ve imbibed in when I know it’s wrong of me to do so. That I’m going to hurt her in the end, at least for a while.

  Our timing is off. Our paths have a different timeline, no matter how much I want her.

  Wish it were different.

  Not when I’ll be leaving the country without a return date after my brother comes home from his honeymoon. When after tomorrow I’ll be in the shadows—out of sight— and life past those stolen moments is an impossibility until I remove all threats. But then again, that’s always been the problem when it comes to Amberlyn. My little sirenita.

  I can’t say no. I let our relationship remain hidden for so long, and now, when I’m ready to settle down, I’ll become that asshole once again.

  She is my weakness. Always holds me captive with a mere look or the sinful curve of her plump lips.

  I’m powerless against her. Can’t fight the ever-present need for a taste.

  Like every time I sneak into her bed, and all the ones before that. Because she’s mine.

  And because I’m also the man who adores her, yet leaves her just as fast when responsibility calls.

  “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make us right. But first, I’m going to break your heart again.”

  The moment I crossed her threshold, front door closing behind me, I pulled my phone out and pressed number two. It rang twice before an audible click and then the rustle of wind met my ears. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m good.” I look down at my shirt and there’s a few specks of blood on it, not much since all it took for a friend of a friend to talk was a single punch to his nose and a warning: speak now or never do so again. “Just had two stops to make before checking in. Everything good on your end?”

  “Jaime moved near the old courthouse in one of the new high-rises. Close enough to discourage and get around on foot if need be. Couple of precinct buddies also in that building.”

  “Coincidence?” Tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder, I make sure her lock is engaged and check the position of my camera there.

  “Nothing in life ever is.”

  “Agreed.” I walk down her corridor and toward the stairs, foregoing the elevator. Amberlyn lives on the eighth floor of a posh building with good security, but it’s easily hacked. I’ve done so a few times, and I refuse to leave a single trace of my visit behind. Only we know. “One in Hialeah and the other in Downtown.”

  “Good source?”

  “Ortega was very cooperative near the end, and the chivato confirmed.”

  My brother’s snort is loud. “I bet. Heard you fed the masses.”

  “I did, but there’s more to this. Their moves are either overconfident or—”

  “You think there’s a third location?” Thiago interrupts, voicing my thoughts. Then there’s what sounds like a lighter sparking from his end. He pulls in deep and exhales just as quick before repeating the process a few times, the action telling me it’s a cigar. More than likely one I brought back from Havana on a prior trip. “It’d make sense.”

  “My money is on Homestead. Enough land and farming to hide.”

  “Hmmm.” For a few beats he’s silent, but I know my brother. He’s thinking. Planning. “I’ll send someone out tomorrow to have a look.”

  “There’s also the matter of the fake money to take care of. That purchase was to test us.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes.” This one’s personal. He knows Dalian...went to school with the brothers. “I think he’s involved to some degree and also runs out of Hialeah.”

  “How soon?”

  “Three nights.”

  “You think he’ll bounce?” Another exhale, this time slowly.

  “It’d be difficult to move his printing equipment. The machines are old and the local he’s using is free. Owned by a friend who likes free weed and uses the fake currency to remain high.”

  “The connection to the brothers must be deep.” Not a question.

  “Henry’s nothing more than a nuisance hiding behind false protection, brother. The man is a low-level criminal with the stupid penchant for paying for his purchases with his homemade cash.” His mistakes are something I’ll make him pay for before his last breath. Just like I’ll be seizing his operation and assets—real money and the counterfeit as payment to the De Leons.

  “Okay. Get some rest.” On his end, the sound of a woman comes through the line asking if everything’s o
kay, and a pang of jealousy hits. It doesn't happen often, but I also can’t stop it. I want what he and Luna have. How simple it is. The comfort in having someone on your side. “My wife says to behave and make the right choices in life.”

  A bark of laughter escapes me, yet that tightness in my chest intensifies. “I’m a model citizen. Honest and honorable.”

  “Sure, you are.” Her voice comes through clear, and I know he’s placed me on speaker phone. “Should I ask around and take a poll?”

  “Be my guest, sis.”

  “Dork.”

  “Takes one to know one,” Thiago grumbles something on their end that’s too low to hear, something she giggles at, and I know it’s time to get off the line. “All right, children. I’m done for the night.”

  “Three nights.” Not a command. He wants confirmation.

  “Yes.”

  “Brother, you look like a man about to commit a grave sin,” Thiago says from beside me and I look over, then follow his gaze. I’m not surprised in the least to find his focus on his soon-to-be wife; she’s his world. “Regret looks good on no one. Remember that.”

  “Never said it did.” Luna’s standing beside my own obsession, the women laughing at something another member of their group said, and I can’t help but watch her. From her short stature to the sexy little black dress and stilettos from a designer she loves. The latter are in the same color, a gift from me on her last birthday—she rewarded me by wearing them and nothing else while escaping for a weekend trip to a private beach in the Gulf of Mexico.

  I’m also aware of the way my hand rubs across my chest; I’m hurting us both. Moreover, I can't help but to be drawn in. There’s something so pure about Amberlyn’s carefree expression right now, the hint of pink on her cheeks tugging at my own lips. “But I have my own redemption to navigate when the time comes.”

  “Amberlyn’s a sweet girl, Ivan.” A waiter stops to Thiago’s right, extending a tray with two drinks on it and a note. My brother picks up the small paper first and chuckles before pocketing it. “That woman will be the death of me.”