Born Sinner by Cora Kenborn
Chapter Seventeen
Sam
If looks could kill,Lola would have sent me to hell and back a couple of times over by now.
She’s in the passenger’s seat of my Bugatti, her hands tied to the Jesus handle above her head. I can’t tell if she’s madder at me for kidnapping her or at herself for coming all over my fingers as her brother was storming the stairs. We made it out with seconds to spare, and now we’re speeding down the freeway and into the eye of the storm.
Not knowing Santiago’s intentions toward Lola pushed my obsession into a wasteland of uncertainty. And then she hit me with that sexy-as-fuck floor show.
In that moment, ambition, lust, Santiago…all that other stuff ceased to exist. There’s only her to drown in now, and what a great death it promises to be.
We drive for five hours straight, kissing the coastline all the way up to New England. At two a.m., I see a derelict road sign for some roach motel a couple of miles shy of Newport, Rhode Island.
Pulling into the parking lot, I kill the engine.
“Are you going to play nice, Lola?” Turning to her, I trail a finger down one flawless cheek, feeling a surge of hope when she doesn’t unleash a string of Spanish insults at me.
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” she whispers, looking vulnerable and so fucking beautiful, I want to kiss all her doubt and hesitation away.
She’s wrong. I know exactly what I’ve done. By taking her, I haven’t just declared a new war on the Carreras, I’ve declared war on my own side too. We’re on the run from the two biggest criminal organizations in the world, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
I think I need a drink to process it, though.
“Let me go,” she urges, her blue eyes wide and wary. “I’ll tell Santi it was a mistake—”
“Didn’t we cover this already?” Leaning over, I press my mouth against hers. Will she bite me or accept me? “There are no rules when it comes to you and me anymore, Lola. Only the ones we make together.”
She rears back, her dark eyebrows drawing together.“Is it me you really want, Sam? Or is it my submission? When the sun comes up, will my heart just be another casualty of this war?”
I know what she’s doing. She wants me to hurt her with a lie. She needs to convince herself that she’s not a traitor to the family she loves. That way, she can absolve herself of the guilt she tastes when we kiss.
But absolution is for those without sin, and Lola Carrera and I have bathed in those bloody waters all our lives.
Sinking a hand into her hair, I twist the thick strands around my fingers and hold her so close we’re sharing the same breath. “If all I wanted from you was a fucking conquest, dulzura, I would’ve spread your legs that night in my bedroom.”
“But—”
“I want everything,” I growl against her lips. “Every piece of you… Even the confused and broken ones you try to hide.”
Those wicked blue eyes flash. “Then kiss me again,” she says breathlessly, “and maybe I’ll consider it.”
Grabbing the back of her head, I crash our mouths together, swallowing every moan like it’s a Michelin star meal. When she strains to reach more of me, I feel like I've won the moon and stars on a game of chance.
“How can you be so sure about us?” She breaks away again, panting.
“Because I know you, Lola Carrera.” I hold her face prisoner between my hands, forcing her to look at me. “I know the pain you feel from this conflict. I know how much you hate smoking cigarettes, even when you pretend otherwise. I know your tiger spirit would have happily carved up Troy Davis’s knee yourself if I hadn’t beaten you to it... I love that when you look to the horizon it’s the world you see, and not the borders of Mexico.” I go to kiss her again. I can’t help myself. “Stay awhile, little mouse. You might find you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.”
“That’s a lot of hate to make right.”
“Give me this night, Lola. I’ll wrap it around us so fucking tight, you’ll never want to break free.”
“I’ll give you more than that,” she says, curling her arms around my neck as soon as I loosen her restraints. “But only if you swear it in blood.”
The motel room is sparse, but functional. The whole interior is bathed in grays and browns, but her colors are blinding.
Kicking the door shut, I grab her by the wrist and spin her back into my arms for another violent kiss.
After that, clothes become skin, and heated promises take center stage.
Throwing her backward onto the bed, I pull her legs apart, impatient to taste every part of her. This time, there are no guns. No violence. Her body is a roadmap to her universe, and her hair is a messy dark web across the white pillowcase.
She tastes of everything.
“If this is what dawn feels like, I never want the day to end.” With a groan, I drag myself away from her pussy, my chin glistening with the residue of her third orgasm as I settle between her legs. Holding her heavy-lidded gaze, I line my dick up for the ultimate prize. “Mine.”
“Yours,” she rasps, sinking her head back into the pillow, her small hands resting on my shoulders to brace herself.
At this, I drive in so deep her nails leave crimson welts across my skin, her slick warmth gripping me so tight I’m close to shooting my load right away.
“Harder,” she whispers as I shudder to a stop. “Faster.”
“Not if you want twenty-eight chapters and an epilogue,” I gasp out.
She laughs softly and pulls my mouth down to hers. “I didn’t know you made jokes.”
“Not recently. With you, I’m relearning.”
“How much do you hate me now?” I say a couple of minutes later.
“Make me come again, and I’ll tell you.” At this, she lifts her hips, making herself so full of me I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
We come together, and it’s off-the-wall spectacular—a fucking fusion of lust, obsession, and everything that’s perfectly imperfect about us.
Her back arches.
My mind is drunk.
Turns out, she doesn’t hate me that much, after all.
She hates me even less when, lying tangled up in sheets and exhaustion, I give her my knife and instruct her to carve an L into my chest.
My oath in blood, just like I promised.
Two letters.
Two lives.
Two hearts that refuse to beat for a war that tries so hard to define them.