The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(11)

Ryker sucked in a weighted breath. “Not here.” His voice mimicked gravel against satin, but it called out to me like nothing I’d ever heard. Distantly, I pondered why everything sounded better, sexier, and infinitely hotter coming out of his sultry, made for sin mouth. Who the f*ck was this man? He scattered my thoughts and turned me into liquid fire within minutes…no, seconds.

His hand coiled around mine, biting into the fragile bones of my hand. Too mindless to object, I followed blindly in pursuit of the sexual emancipation written in every ruthless curve of his face.

Less than a minute later, we were outside the bar. The humid air ruffled through my hair, lifting it from my shoulders and whipping it around my face. Music from the nightclubs dueled for the attention of the tourists strolling the sidewalks in a drunken fog. But none of that registered in my mind. Alcohol and single-minded lust surged through my veins, clouding my vision until I couldn’t think of anything but the release Ryker promised.

He pulled me along the side of a darkened building, an alley of sorts, and pressed me against the wall. A thrill skittered down my spine as the stucco bit into my back and snagged the silken weave of my little black dress.

Less than a beat later, he pressed his body against mine as his hands hiked up the bottom of my dress. The humid, tropical air hummed around my sensitive skin, and I ached for him. I pulled his face to mine, sucking his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of tequila and sin, and I wanted more. I demanded more.

Not wasting a second, his finger slid inside of me, and he groaned into my mouth, igniting pleasure-laced vibrations in my already pulsing core. “You’re so wet,” he said as his lips ghosted along my neck, my pulse a rapid staccato under his wandering mouth.

“Mm,” I moaned, grinding my pelvis against his hand. My hands fumbled with his belt buckle. I was done with foreplay. Game over. I wanted him inside of me. Now.

“Fuck,” he said ripping my hands away just as I managed to release his buckle. He pulled a small square package out of his pocket.

I both loved and hated that he had a condom. Loved because I wanted him buried inside me with as little to regret as possible tomorrow. Hated because it made me realize he might do this often. I forced the thought from my mind. None of that mattered. I had no intention of seeing Ryker after tonight. He’d be my dirty secret…one huge silent f*ck you to my mom, Evan, and the next guy my parents shoved in my face when they finally accepted I wouldn’t rekindle my relationship with Evan.

With unsteady hands, I released his button and his zipper. He shoved his pants and boxer briefs down his hips just far enough to free himself, but not far enough to expose himself to wandering eyes. Within seconds, he rolled a condom over his erection. A quick snap of his hand and my panties were discarded in a mystery puddle near our feet.

He wrapped one of my legs around his waist, spreading me, revealing me, and he plunged inside with one deep, breath-robbing thrust. His eyes never left mine as he pounded into me with a confidence and skill I’d never experienced.

In.

Out.

And back in again.

Deeper and harder with every jutting stroke of his hips.

My senses whirled and faded into the moment, unable to concentrate on anything but the building pressure as he moved inside me.

Twisting his fingers into my hair, he gripped my head, his hands biting into my cheeks, his eyes devouring me. The sharp bite of pain only enhanced my desire.

With his gray eyes boring into mine, I imagined he saw through me, penetrating the deep recesses of my mind where I buried secrets, lies, and all the insecurities locked inside my soul. It was too much. I didn’t want an emotional connection. I wanted a mindless f*ck that transported me out of my self-induced agony and pity into a mind-shattering pleasure so raw and deep I’d never forget it. Shaking out of his clasp, I dropped my head and closed my eyes, concentrating on the delicious bite of his cock and the rattling of my teeth as he slammed into me.

Without words, he complied, shoving me harder into the wall. His hands tore at my dress. When the material buckled under his strength, he raked the soft skin of my breasts with his hand. I’d never experienced anything so rough and mindless. My perfectly tailored life faded into a blur of primal bliss. I liked it. No, I f*cking loved it.

He lifted my other leg, his hands digging into the flesh of my ass, and just like that, an incoherent, disconnected sound escaped my mouth as the most insanely mind-numbing orgasm slashed through my body. A dark tide of pleasure swallowed me as I screamed, unconcerned with who heard. Like a savage, my nails clawed at the hard planes of his shoulders and any other body part I could find, trying to pull him deeper into me…into this chasm of soulless rapture.

“Fuck,” he yelled as he pounded into me. My head hit the wall, and my eyes connected with his at the exact instant of his release. Brutal pleasure contorted the angular features of his face into something both beautiful and wicked.

Then, everything stopped and he froze inside me. The pounding of the music, the low hum of conversation, and the bursts of laughter seeped back into my reality. Out of breath, he buried his head against my shoulder as he released my shaky legs.

With my mind luxuriating in the fog of sex, he tangled one of his hands into my hair and forced me to look at him. Everything was blurred, softer, happier…disguising the hard truths of what just happened. I preferred it. I embraced it. No regrets. A languid smile pulled at the edge my lips. My body wanted him again and again.