Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He can own it. He can own me. He can hate me as long as he stays buried inside me.
He picks me up off the table and starts to bounce me up and down on his thick cock. Not once does he pull his eyes away. I don’t bother looking away. His face is solid, serious. Other than his flared nostrils and the tight grip he has on my ass, I wouldn’t be able to tell he’s enjoying it. He’s holding on tight, breathing heavily.
“Fuck your hate out,” I tell him.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, but I hear the strain in his voice.
I hold him tighter around the neck, bringing my face down, pressing my lips to his.
He tries to resist, but the groan that rips through his body is proof enough that he’s obsessed with the idea of this.
He can hate me all he wants right now, but by the end of this, he will love me again.
He will trust me.
He will be my king, and I will be his reina.
He snatches his mouth away, lifting me up high enough to remove his cock from my pussy.
He places me on my feet, twisting me around and forcing my face down on the table. He grips my hip with one hand, using his other to clutch and wrap my ponytail in his hand.
Each thrust fills me up.
Every plunge is powerful, and met with a swirl of my hips and a tight, hungry clench below.
“I want you to hate me,” he growls, slamming his cock deep.
“No,” I pant.
“You should be afraid of me, Gianna,” he says through clenched teeth. “You have no idea how bad I want to choke the life out of you right now.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” After I say that, he pulls the band out of my hair and my ponytail falls, my hair curtaining my face.
“You are heaven and hell,” he rasps. “Peace and chaos.”
He holds my hips tight, and another hard groan rips through his chest. He’s coming. Knowing that pleases every fiber in my body.
He stills inside me, his forehead dropping down on my spine.
He picks his head up and pulls out rapidly, as if realizing his body’s betrayal. He zips himself up as I sit up. My shirt is a shredded mess, revealing my lacy nude bra. He looks me up and down, like he knows I’m a beautiful, dangerous mess and can’t help being addicted to me. Like he hates me so much, but loves me all the same.
“You are not helping me. I have this handled.” He gives me his back. “You came back for nothing. Waste of time.”
I walk up to him, but don’t touch him. “I’m helping you, Draco. Fuck Yessica. She doesn’t scare me. We can take her down.”
He walks away, shoulders hunched. I chase after him, clutching his wrist and spinning him around. “Draco!”
“Fuck off, Gianna! Just go back to where you were!”
“No!” I grip his arm tighter. “I’m not going back, Draco, and you can’t make me! If you want me there, you’ll have to drag me back yourself, but trust me, I will put up a fight this time.”
His jaw pulses, brown eyes sweeping my body, trying to make me feel puny. Insignificant.
Screw that. It won’t work. Maybe it did before, but not anymore.
“What the hell can you do that I can’t?” he challenges, getting closer to my face.
“I can be myself,” I answer. “Be what she’s always wanted to be—La Patrona.”
He tips his chin, studying my eyes. “She will kill you as soon as she sees you. All of Mexico is on the hunt for you.”
“Then let them look. That doesn’t scare me.” I step, pressing a hand on his cheek, the pad of my forefinger running over his cheekbone. “Let me fight with you, Draco. You aren’t alone anymore. Let someone you care about be there for you.” I narrow my eyes as he does his. “I know you’re thinking you have to get to her immediately, but you don’t. Sit. Plan. Think things through. She will not make a fool out of you again, do you hear me? Not while I’m alive and breathing. You will get your revenge. She will pay for what she’s done and so will Henry. You just have to be patient.”
He pulls his eyes away, removing my hand and adjusting the collar of his shirt. He rakes rough fingers through his hair, sighing hard. He’s agitated. I get it.
With stitched brows, he says, “If you die, it will not be on my conscious. You wanted this, not me, so fight all you fucking want, but you won’t be doing me any favors. I don’t need your goddamn help.” He turns sideways, giving me one last look before storming away, right to the wide open entrance.
This time I don’t chase after him.