Fall by Autumn Archer
19
Love.
Can it actually be drained from the soul upon request? Surgically removed or attacked with radiation as it breeds. Eradicated from every diseased cell that succumbs to its power. If that’s possible, I’ll sign up for the waiting list.
I’m weakened by her motivation to stab my enemy––for me. Dumbstruck at her ironclad courage and a witness to the beautiful woman who sits on the throne above her unworthy subjects.
Beija flor is the queen of my jungle and the mistress of my heart. But her disobedience has stolen an opportunity so important to me that I can’t pull my shit together or think straight.
Her interference was a gust of wildfire obliterating years of planning. I’ve been robbed of answers.
And what’s worse, the very woman I’ve tried to safeguard with exile carelessly put herself in danger. She did the very thing I’ve dreaded for days, and now I’m furious.
Hate.
It seeps inside me, slick like grease. Sticking to my organs and stonewalling every wisp of heat. The overwhelming emotion slithers over my clammy skin with threadlike veins, nullifying the ability to find love within its darkness. Slowly, without warning, it strangles the sunshine and terrorizes any compassion for the tears staining her pale cheeks.
I’m stuck in the noose. Half living. Half dead. Strung up in limbo and hung between lust and disdain. My intentions are knotted and warped, my next move uncertain.
After I vanished from the Oasis, I mourned the absence of love by slipping into the role of a punisher, burdened under a heavy mask I’ve worn for too long. The only problem is, I’m struggling to separate it from my soul and unable to fully appreciate her significance in the bigger picture of life.
I thought she’d left, and now she’s quaking before me with blood on her hands. I’m devastated by her display of fidelity, the faithfulness I was adamant she would give me and the devotion she repeatedly gave me. Now I’m torn because she did this—interfered in my business, causing Miguel’s secrets to die with him.
All of this was for nothing.
I brought him here for nothing.
I risked my empire for nothing.
My men died for nothing.
Burying my face in my hands, I beg the chaos rampaging in my mind to settle. Love and hate have fused together, creating an ungodly creature of rapture and contempt.
Danger no longer threatens my world, which means beija flor will be mine, regardless of whether or not she wants to be.
My nails scratch over the coarse hairs at my chin while I quietly take in Miguel’s pathetic state one last time. There’s no pride in his slumped body or cold dead eyes, nor is there a sense of joy that he’s finally served his sentence. I’m numbed by it all. Plateaued by an anti-climax.
Until I look up and lock eyes with my nemesis.
Beija flor.
The air leaves my throat with a grunt, and my heart thumps out of time. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to fall in line and appear detached from the catastrophe.
It’s impossible when I’m met with skin so pale she looks ill. Her hair is loose. Messy curls tumble over dainty floral shoulders with a wafer-thin fabric that’s almost see-through. Its subtle green texture blends with the habitat and highlights the wildness of her temperament. A low-cut neckline teases the curve of luscious breasts, and knee socks add to the fantasy.
Venomous plans to murder and maim surrender to the woman I kissed goodbye, yet here she is risking everything for a motherfucking fool like me.
Every quick breath she takes reminds me she’s safe, making all the worries I’ve endured fade. For that, I’m eternally thankful. I’ll reward the sharpshooter for his impeccable reflexes, and whatever price he puts on it, I’ll triple it.
My little hummingbird went face to face with the devil and came out alive. Goosebumps scatter my spine. My dick hardens to rock, and my emotions go haywire. I want to snatch her into my arms and tell her everything will work out, that it will be okay. But it won’t. Nothing about this situation will end well when I’m too confused to understand how I want to kiss and punish at the same time.
Rage wars within me, snarling and twisting the ventricles of my glacial heart. Truth serum feeds into my brain. The more I think about her insubordination, the more the beast grows into an unforgiving hellion.
Tears fall from her fright filled eyes. The hem skimming her bare thighs moves as she waits for me to speak while her muscles tense with fight-or-flight instincts. But worst of all, she’s looking at me like I’m the devil she went up against.
My vision goes black. How dare she cast me in the role of a villain. I’m rooted to the earth with disturbed impulses to claim her as my own and feed on her climax, making sure she knows it’s me who rules.
Flashes of anguish streaking her expression both sickens and excites me. She should be worried. The man I am at this moment is not the man I was yesterday. And it’s all her fault.
Unfortunately for me, I want her more than I can physically tolerate. So much so that my belly aches, my teeth clench and a stab of malice glides along my ribs with a razor-sharp edge.
How can I crave tenderness and desire to hurt her when she means so much to me? The rush of candor runs free in my cerebral cortex, maximizing every shake up of emotions. It demands every vicious thought to be true. If she asks me what I’m going to do next, she’ll likely cry at my answer.
I glower at the men circling us, and then, as I go to speak, she does the unthinkable—she darts behind a palm tree. She runs from me. “Iris!” I yell, close to losing my sanity.
She keeps going, ignoring the consequences of her actions––ignoring me. I stagger mid-step. Physically, emotionally and mentally distraught. The awful reality is, I should let her scamper back to the Oasis as that would be the kinder thing to do, but I can’t do that. It’s impossible. The hysteria wringing inside me erupts with such magnitude that my entire body shakes. I will find beija flor and teach her a lesson.
The growl tearing from my throat startles nesting birds. Animals cry out in a restless rumpus when the mayhem snarled in my chest unravels.
Churning up moist dirt, I chase after the flighty hummingbird, following her into the woodland. Branches splinter underfoot, and weak shrubs disintegrate to mush. Dappled sunlight fails to brighten the tempest heading her way, while oppressive heat licks at my nape, coating my bare chest with a sheen of frustration. My legs no longer take orders from my brain when all I can think of is her.
Very bad thoughts hijack my mind. I’ve fallen victim to the liquid closing in on my classified thoughts, marching them into the daylight. Even if I bite back the compulsion to answer questions, I’ll never be able to hide from Iris. It’s always been that way, and she has no idea.
I catch sight of her ahead, and my heart literally swells with a possessiveness I’ve only ever felt for her. She covers the trail snaking through the undergrowth, doing her best to get away from me. I warned her not to run from me before. The fact I’m having to track her now only adds to the rush of adrenaline.
Savagery pours over me, dark and dangerous. A venomous brew of lust scrapes at my throat when I yell for her to stop. The need for her surrender takes control the very second my mind concedes to the discord of serum pumping to my head.
I need her to yield before I lose myself.
Her light-footed steps halt on the shaded path up ahead. A swoosh of flimsy material catches my eye first. Then my feral gaze adjusts to flaming curls jumbled over skin the color of magical moonshine.
I slow my pace and stop when she spins around, fixing her spine tall and lifting her regal chin high. “Let me leave, Dante. Stop chasing me,” she says breathlessly.
The audacity of her request fogs my stare. I shake my head, stalking towards her without a plan. “No.”
Her chest rises, and she gasps at the abrupt reply. “Why? Why won’t you let me go?”
All the reasons for her not to go dance on the tip of my tongue. “Stop asking questions, beija flor,” I snarl.
“Tell me!” She wipes a rogue tear from her chin and then hugs her midriff.
My eyes snap closed, forcing myself to block out her anxious expression. To prevent the truth from tripping free. “Because you’ve ruined everything.” I laugh cruelly at the admission. “Because you didn’t leave when I offered you freedom. Which clearly means you belong to me now. No turning back. No going home.”
A palm flies to her heart, where she massages the crack under the surface. “You promised me… Please… Don’t do this. He was going to hurt you.”
“The only person who can hurt me is you,” I blurt out unexpectedly. It’s happening. My mind is renouncing her power over me.
“Bullshit!” she shouts, bordering on hysteria. “I’ve never tried to hurt you.” Her hand flies up, and she pokes out her forefinger. “You, on the other hand, that’s all you know how to do.”
I scrub my eyes and stare up at the leafy canopy. “You should’ve obeyed me, Iris.” I take a deep breath and feign calmness even though anarchy flirts with the beast in my chest. “I gave you a chance to leave all this behind. And look… You’re still here… with a fucking dress and knee-high socks.” Christ, I’m a mess.
“What will you do to me?” She slowly reverses, angering me even more.
“I haven’t figured that out yet.” I want to be strong so my cracks aren’t visible. I need her here, when all she wants to do is fly thousands of miles away from me. “Do not take another step away from me,” I snap out. “Or I swear to fuck, I won’t be held responsible for what I do next.”
My eyes drop to the tight socks rising over her knees, ending at creamy thighs peeking out from beneath her dress.
“Dante,” she whispers with a faint prayer for the man she wishes will appear from the mist. “He had a rifle pointed right at you, for goodness sake. What would you have done?”
With a quick pace, I close the painful distance separating us. She flinches when I seize her throat and march her backward into a tree, taking full control of her. When our bodies collide, her groan catches me off guard. “I would have broken the fucker’s neck,” I hiss. “There were armed men everywhere. I told them to stand down because they had loaded weapons, not him. There was enough ammunition to eradicate a village, all pointed in our direction––in your direction, for fucks sake. A rogue bullet aimed at Miguel was more of a threat than that sonofabitch.” Her chest heaves as my rationale spits out into the open. “My men are all trained assassins, snipers, fast shooters, yet I still wouldn't trust any of them with a weapon when you’re close by. Accidents happen, Iris. Bullets meant for one person can kill someone else.” My rant untangles in a mass of honesty. “I would never give the order when you’re in the crossfire. Do you understand me?”
She swallows hard and nods. “Yes.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle like hackles. “No, Iris, I don’t think you understand at all, or you wouldn’t have been so damn reckless.”
“Then make me understand.” Tiny hands brush over my abdomen as she lifts to her tiptoes.
My dick thickens, and before she can reach any higher, I grab her wrists. “Is that what you really want, beija flor?”
She runs her wicked little tongue between her lips, and the charge of lust it brings unhinges sanity. The fresh scent of coconut swooshes up my nostrils when I tip into her hair. Soft ringlets of turbulent lava flow with disarray. I’ve missed how they tickle my skin and fire up every single nerve ending in my body. She lights up my world.
“I’m sorry.” Her breath is shaky. I almost choke on my tongue to stop candid sentences from escaping. Her lips part, glistening with moisture. “I did it for you,” she whispers, as if sensing the conflict within me.
Miguel is still dead, apology or not, and she’s still here––tormenting me.
Hot breath teases me with a thousand excuses for sin. My hand jumps to her jaw and shivers at the firm contact, powerlessly restrained when I hollow her flushed cheeks so her mouth protrudes.
“Stop talking. Your apology doesn’t change a thing. You got in the way and fucked things up.” I’m aware my voice is thick, slipping past normal and rasping at greed. “I’m growing tired of your disobedience. I gave you freedom, and you threw it back in my goddamn face. You got him killed before I had the chance to do it myself.” A tornado whirls in my head. “I was meant to pull the trigger when I was ready to strike off his debt. His life was mine.” My nose nuzzles into her hair, and I graze her fleshy lobe with my teeth. “But you showed up and put yourself in fucking danger, Iris.”
Nausea pounces on me. I’m incapable of shutting out all the possible cruel scenarios that could have happened. Even though she’s safe and trembling at my mercy. I try to ignore the gnawing ache in my core, the hunger wilder than gluttony.
When she inhales, her chest elevates into me. Soft breasts nestle against my bare chest, and my forehead falls to hers. We suck in the same hot air, and I wonder if there’s any way to come back from this mind fucking insanity because I’m literally blinded by lust.
At my angriest, I’ve always maintained a level head, but having her in my territory, after she tried to protect me, wearing a flimsy sundress and thigh-high socks, even when my anxiety for her safety pushed her away––well, I’m an unworthy mess.
The torn emotions unravelling inside me are unstoppable, and I don’t know how to deal with it.
She deserves everything I dish out.
