Born Sinner by Cora Kenborn

Chapter Sixteen

Sam

It takesme less than sixty seconds to hack into her apartment’s maintenance system and cut the lights dead. It takes me another five to pistol-whip her bodyguard so hard he’ll be seeing double for a week. He doesn't look like the kind of fucker who’d waiver a shot at revenge, but I'll deal with that fall out later.

Lust and jealousy are dangerous weapons, and after watching Lola Carrera come so hard against a window the fucking glass fogged up, there’s no army in the world that could stop me from sinking my cock into her pussy tonight.

“I’m leaving, Sam.”

Never.

Her whispered admission sliced through the last strands of my sense and reason. Her breathless taunts made a bonfire out of my self-control. Lola is only going one way tonight, and that’s with me. Predators don’t barter with their prey. There are no pretty deals, sneaky underhands, or backstreet bargains. They stalk and they pounce, they steal and they break.

Her front door is open, and it smells like an invitation.

I don’t make a sound as I slip inside, the heavy stillness crushing me like a velvet fist. I move slowly, cat-like, along the hallway, even though I know every inch of this apartment by heart. I head straight for the bedroom because that’s where she’s leading me. The sweet scent of her arousal is unmistakable beneath the generic florals and citrus.

I pause in the doorway, my anticipation turning my cock to stone. We’re breaking the rules again. We’re crashing through more unseen barriers. Do bad things with me, Lola… Sharing our pleasure will be double the fun.

I push the door open, the smallest creak shattering the silence. I hear her breathing in the darkness. Rapid, shallow rasps. Sounds that are so easy to make screams out of.

The curtains are closed. The moon is in hiding. I’m a thief in the night as I cross the room to reach the bed, stealing hearts and virtue with a fucking smile on my face. That’s when she makes her move, darting for the hallway in a flurry of frantic footsteps. Her soft cry shatters the silence again as she runs straight into me.

I grab her arm and throw her up against a nearby wall, pressing a hand over her delicate mouth as my hips hold her body prisoner. “Strike a pose, Lola Carrera,” I say huskily, drunk off her fury and her fragility. “The show’s not over until I say it is.”

Her muffled cries grow louder against my palm, and her sharp teeth snag on my skin.

Frustrated, I spin her around and crush my throbbing erection into her ass. Holy fuck. The feeling of her heat pressed up against me again is blowing all my late-night fantasies out of the water. It’s enough to make my hand slip from her mouth.

“Get the hell off me!” She leverages her foot against the wall to try and tip me backward.

“Is that really what you want?”

“Want?” She toys with the word like it’s an unwanted gift. “You don’t want me, Sam Colton… Sanders… Whatever the hell your name is. You can drop the façade right now. I know where your allegiance lies. You saw Troy Davis roofie me, so you took your opportunity. You branded me for him… You branded me for Dante Santiago.”

“I branded you for me.” I drop my mouth to her shoulder as she hisses out a single rebuke.

“What about the other night? In the alleyway?” I catch the hitch in her breath.

“Don’t deny you wanted it.”

“Bullshit I did! It was sick. You’re sick!”

“Then we’ll be sick together.” Incensed, I suck on her skin as hard as I can, creating another mark that won’t be so easy to cover up. She yelps and shudders, but, again, she’s not so easily conquered.

“My brother will be back any minute, and when he sees you—”

“He’ll what?” I wrench her dress up around her hips, grinning to myself when she doesn’t yank it back down again. “Tell me something, Lola… Is he coming here to drag you back to Mexico? Will you be a willing passenger, or will you be screaming inside the whole time because Daddy is taking all your dreams and wishes and drowning them in a river named Carrera?”

Her body sags. I’ve just deconstructed her truth into something real and ugly.

Like a bastard, I take advantage of the situation and ram my knee between her legs, spreading them wider.

“How long have you known?” she rasps. She’s almost compliant as I brush my thumbs against the underside of her breasts.

“The day you started at Rutgers.” I slide a hand between her thighs, trailing upwards; smirking as she pushes back on me, biting out a moan.

“That was over a month ago… Santiago could have come for me anytime—”

“But he didn’t.” I reach the damp apex of her thighs and slide a finger inside her panties. I’m so close to losing my shit over this woman it’s unreal. One more breathy moan and I’ll be destroying her virginity for the rest of the night.

“Am I supposed to offer my gratitude?” Hissing out the word, she tries to push me away again. “Do you know what he did to my mother eighteen years ago? To me?”

“Toss a story in the air and the facts will fall differently every time, Lola. Your father sent him and my stepfather an invitation to their own fucking murders. They got lucky. Your dad got pissed. Cue two decades of East Coast anarchy.”

“You’re a liar!”

“And you’re a fucking lunatic,” I snarl, losing my temper. “Flashing your pussy in that nightclub… Sucking that asshole’s face earlier.”

She stills. “Did you hurt him?”

“Damn right I did.” I pinch her swollen clit in delicious punishment, inhaling her pained groans like they’re oxygen.

“¡Ay Dios mío!” she gasps, and shudders, cursing me in Spanish. “¡Hijo de su puta madre!”

She’s right. I am a son of a bitch. In more ways than one.At this, I drive my middle finger so deep inside her she loses her balance, slamming her palms against the wall as I circle and stretch her, prepping her for an even bigger surprise.

“You’re crazy!” she cries, angling her hips for more.

“Crazy for you. Do you like it, Lola? Does it pique your interest? Are you going to climb down from your ivory tower to take a closer look? Maybe we should climb back up together?” With this, I give her exactly what she needs, ramming a second finger inside her. I pump mercilessly in and out of her body as she curses again.

“God, I hate you!”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

“You’re a creep,” she groans, squeezing my fingers as her pussy starts quivering.

“You’re a tease.”

“You’re a filthy Santiago pendejo!”

“And you’re mine!”

Ripping my fingers away, I spin her back around, smashing our mouths together to drown out her next insult. I taste peaches and cream, relief and desperation, before shouts and heavy footsteps in the parking lot outside send us spiraling back to earth.

Shit.

Tearing my mouth from hers, I slam my hand down in its place. “Don’t make a fucking sound. I mean it, Lola. There’s a fine line between the two factions of this war, and we’re slow-dancing on the edge of it.”

I think fast. I have exactly sixty seconds before Santi Carrera sees what I did to his second-in-command and starts redecorating her apartment in my blood.

There’s a stairwell at the end of her hallway. It leads to the side of the building where my car is parked. I hear Lola’s silent question in my head, and my mind is made up.

Wherever I’m going, she’s coming too.