Black Hearts (Sins Duet #1)

And I’m definitely coming hard.

Then with a throaty moan he lets go of the belt and it loosens around my neck and I’m gasping for breath as I pulse around him, washed away in the waves of my orgasm where I can’t make sense of anything.

His pace quickens, both hands holding on to my waist as he drives himself inside me, so hard and thorough and brutal, as if he’s punishing me again and again, like he did with the belt.

He’s savage.

A fucking savage.

And I’m still riding my orgasm, still trying to breathe again, each brutal thrust keeping me going on the wave, like I’ll keep coming for as long as he’s in deep. I’m up so high, high, high and I can’t come down even if I tried.

It’s pure, primal bliss.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Violet McQueen,” he growls, so rough and frantic in his rhythm, and then he slows with one, heavy push. His fingers dig into my skin, hard enough to leave bruises, and his loud, wild groan fills the room, twisting with my own.

He stills against me, drops of sweat falling onto my back, our heavy breathing in unison, and it feels like he has to pry his fingers away from my hips.

Eventually he pulls out.

I collapse straight down onto the bed, my arms shaking. I reach up for my neck to feel for the welt, hoping it won’t leave something like the ropes left on my ankles. My parents won’t understand this one.

“Let me see. Did I hurt you?” Vicente asks tenderly, moving up beside me on the bed. I roll over to face him and he runs his finger gently over my neck. “There’s no mark,” he says.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I tell him.

“And you were okay with it?”

I give a slight nod. “I came pretty fucking hard.”

He gives me a soft grin. “You did.” He leans over and kisses along my neck, then up to my chin, my nose, my lips. “Do you find you’re able to be more in the moment with me?”

I exhale loudly. “Yeah. Everything is just so…it’s different now. Everything is different.” I feel awed just saying it. He’s opened up a whole new world, a whole new side of me that I never knew existed. It’s like finding a door to a place that you’d only heard about and never believed was real.

Vicente is my Narnia.

“Good different, I hope?”

I break into a crazy smile. “Of course it’s good different. You’re blowing my fucking world apart every moment I’m with you. You’re like…magic.”

“I’m not magic,” he says solemnly. “Just my cock is.”

I laugh. “Mexican magic cock.”

“There are many legends about it, but only you know the truth.”

“Well, let’s keep it between you and I then. I don’t want to have to fight off any women.”

He brushes the hair from my face. “There aren’t any other women, you know that. Just you. Only you.”

I hate what those words do to me. Fill me with hope. Make my heart swell. We’re not even a couple and yet we’re acting like it. How scary it would be for all of this to stop, to fall apart. It’s so soon and yet I can’t bear to lose it.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, tapping his fingers along my temple. “What thoughts could you have now, after all that and my magic cock?”

I can’t help but give him a half-smile. “You know me. Hard habit to break. Might need your magic cock in me at all times.”

“That can be arranged. You know by now I don’t tire easily.” He places his hand at my chest, the expression on his face turning grave, like he’s grappling with something heavy. “Sometimes I think I can feel your pain. I can see the softness of your heart.”

I don’t know if it’s all the emotions from the sex or with my family or what’s going on, but just those words, just the feeling of his warm palm against my chest, so tender, and I feel tears burning at my eyes and nose.

I take a deep breath.

Shit, Violet, don’t lose it now after all that.

“You know,” Vicente says quietly. “Just because I want you to escape from yourself during sex and connect with me doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear about what bothers you. What lurks inside your head. Tell me about your darkest places, Violet. Don’t hold them inside.”

I close my eyes, the tears falling. Shit. I am so fucking weak.

But he doesn’t ask me why I’m crying. Which is good, because if he’s going to be around me for a while he’s going to find out pretty soon that I cry over a lot of things. Sad commercials, music, cute animals, movies, books, happy or sad. Even an epic sunset can reduce me to tears sometimes.

He rubs his thumbs underneath my eyes, wiping away the tears. “You just need a little tenderness, Violet. I think that’s all you need.”

I swallow hard, nodding. Because he gets it. He fucking gets it.