Fall by Autumn Archer
20
When Iris Kitson was expunged from the planet, a newer version was born from her misfortune. A stronger woman prepared to fight for her life without regret. I didn’t give in to the man who trapped me with invisible bars, I granted him permission. And in a twisted tale of fate, it turns out I would kill for him too.
I am equally as savage as he is now.
We are matched in ferocity and loyalty.
On reflection, my brutality is the awful thing I should be afraid of, not the furnace stoking in his eyes.
The seething temper he unleashes with daggered words and bloodied hands doesn’t terrify me as it should. His expression transcribes a different story. He appears lost, confused, torn up by death or worry. Hungry as a wolf and ready to snap the threads holding my dress together.
Haphazard inky hair hangs over his sun kissed forehead. Forest green eyes glint as if they are trapped beneath a menacing mask craving an escape. Sweat glistens on his torso as every glorious muscle flexes and contracts. For the first time since I’ve been here, I feel sorry for him.
He’s unbalanced and untamed, losing a grip of self-control.
My cruor spattered fingers clamp around his rigid wrists. We both have blood on our hands now––we both share common ground. It’s at this moment, hemmed in by the natural world, that I understand him. Our eyes lock. The intensity of horrifying events bleeds out before us. All I want is forgiveness and a ticket home, but all I crave is a deeper connection with him.
“What have you done to me?” I choke out, staving a sob.
His eyelids squeeze shut, and he groans. “None of this was supposed to happen. I didn’t want you here.” His voice breaks under the weight of resentment.
From the very beginning, neither of us could fathom the fierce attraction blooming into an exotic flower. Kindling sparks of discovery quickly gusted through our lives like wildfire, leaving us both in the embers of loneliness when we parted ways. Miguel wasn’t a threat to Dante’s domain—he was a potential threat to me. No one else. Dante had the situation under control.
Until I showed up.
Guards were instructed to protect me. To kill for me.
He cares.
I care.
Urgent lust crackles in the air. The anger vibrating from him seems toxic. Cruel. Nothing how I imagine a reunion of two lovers would be. Shade covers us like moving clouds. Sunlight speckles the wet ground underfoot, illuminating pale leaves like lanterns.
“What would have happened if his gun was loaded, after all. Miguel wouldn’t think twice about shooting a woman, beija flor,” he hisses at me. “He pointed it right at you. Right here.” His hand shoots between us, and he spreads his palm over my belly button. “Why don’t you ever listen?”
His expression is crazed as if I’ve shoved him closer to the fiery gates of Hades with no promise of a return.
My throat starts to close from the lumps of regret wedged behind a sob. I stare up at him, blinking in his wild beauty. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? That I’d never see you again. Did you think fucking me was an appropriate way to say goodbye? I deserve better than that. I deserve your honesty.”
A hand finds its way to my bare thigh. Torturous fingers glide higher. “You enjoyed it,” he grits out, sliding his other hand behind my neck. “Admit it. It was the best way to end things between us. Fucking is what we do best.”
My viperous temper bursts into flames. I drop his wrist so my hand can sail through the air and slap him across the face. The noise slices through the understory louder than the crack of a whip. He freezes. For a second, his eyes flash like I’ve managed to break his rotten mood. Until he blinks, and his jaw muscles work.
The light contact beneath my dress vanishes. He brings up his hand and slaps me back. It’s not hard, or vicious, more of a light warning tap with his fingertips. Directing his forefinger at my face, he draws in a slow breath before speaking. “You’re not in charge, beija flor. I’ve a good mind to smack your ass for being so goddamn insolent.”
I’m defected. Deranged. Wet with anticipation. I would have blushed before or even argued that rough sex was not a turn on. Yet now, I’m burning up for it. For him. He’s demanding and controlling, but never physically abusive. Truth be told, I’ve never been ravenous for filthy intimacy until I met this ferocious man.
I shudder when his boorish hand returns to my thigh, and he traces the seam of my panties. His full masculine weight pins me to the tree trunk. Hungry fingers glide over the material protecting my decency, causing me to groan with anticipation. My skin prickles with a thousand promises of satisfaction.
The wait for pleasure ends when his lips smash onto mine. He kisses me hard. It’s salty, voracious and wickedly hot. I kiss him back, ploughing my fingers into his sweat damp hair and curling the lengths in fists. The blistering heat radiating off his neck feels like sunshine in paradise.
He breaks away, buries his face in the spirals hanging by my cheek and whispers close to my ear. “I jerked off thinking about you every night,” he confesses on a growl. “Every single night you were here.” His teeth nip my earlobe, and fireworks explode. “While you slept. While you lathered up your tits in the shower. While you laid on your bed and finger fucked yourself.” The rhythm of my heart beats out of time. His husky voice, on the edge of reason, fires up my veins ready for combustion. “Who did you think about?”
“You.” I fumble with the buttons on his combat pants.
“Right answer, beija flor. It’s always been about you. From the very first time I set eyes on you to the second that bastard pointed a gun at your belly. I would have torn out his throat with my bare hands to save you.”
He kisses me again, only this time, he nearly chokes me when his tongue drives deep into my throat. Coarse hairs on his face scratch my chin. We’ve kissed before, but not like this—not with reciprocated violence. Teeth, spittle, tongues and growling vibrations. I’m shaking with adrenaline. He controls my every breath as he ravages my mouth.
My hands roam over his red-hot flesh, and my nails trail over his muscular shoulders. His brittle anger morphs to fluid passion. He pours a rainbow of emotions into the kiss. Shooting stars collide and explode with excitement.
Dante steals his lips away, steps back and devours me with a sordid glance. Then he pushes down his trousers with boxers chasing so his cock springs free. He seizes the thick shaft and grunts low in his throat. I lick my lips as he strokes a palm up and down, all the while staring right at me. I’m ready to drop to my knees and worship him with my mouth. But he’s too impatient. Too volatile.
His hand leaves its position. In a flash, he snatches my forearm and whirls me around. My palms reach out to the bark for support. I want him, all of him, with gentleness and harshness, protection and desire.
I dare to look over my shoulder the second his arm snakes my pelvis, and he yanks my ass into his arousal. An angry cock throbs between us, prodding my flesh as he shoves the hem of my dress to my waist.
He traps his lower lip between his teeth and raises his right hand. When it lands on my buttock, the smack burns like molten sin. I jolt at the brutal bite and groan when he digs firm fingertips into the flesh, kneading it for a second of decadence. Then, just as the sting dies away, he does it again.
Smack. “Maybe now you’ll behave, beija flor.” His arrogant voice is hoarse and strained. Smack. “This is what happens when you cause trouble. You get punished.” Smack. “And you know what I fucking love about it?” Smack. “I know you love it too.”
Dante lets out a guttural groan when he aligns his cock with my slick pussy lips. I shouldn’t enjoy his barbaric torture. Or surrender, or beg for him to fill me, but every skin cell is pleasurably stricken from his carnal touch. My body responds to him in ways I can’t explain. It always has, and he damn well knows it.
There’s no tenderness or foreplay. No promises of a blissful future together. Just demanding hands that secure my waist, and then he pushes deep inside me. My eyes roll to the heavens. The hard intrusion feels so good. So exhilarating. Dante’s thrusts are wilder and more ravenous than ever before. He grips a handful of my hair to increase the intensity before brutally slamming in and out.
Where I should find suffering, I only find peace. The sensitivity of him entering me clouds everything. The brutality of death, not too far away, doesn’t stop us.
“I’ve missed this.” His gravelly accent rumbles. “I’ve missed us… this feeling… you.”
I lose my mind, gasp for air and forget all about Sal waiting for me to show up and my family crying over old photographs. I’m lost in him.
Shivers catapult over my scalp and rocket down my spine. The swollen heart racing inside my chest lurches at his frank admission. I angle my head to catch his eye and find torment where pleasure should live. His teeth burrow into the soft flesh of his lip, and his nostrils flare. I use the tree to push up, bringing my back parallel to his chest.
His hands move to my breasts, and he pinches the nipples. I close my eyes and accept everything he offers. A hair-raising snarl, like disgust for his outburst, makes me sway.
“Dante…” I cry out when the tip of his cock reaches so far inside me I see cosmic stars.
The dark need lacing my voice activates something primitive within him. He rears back, unfairly removing the glorious sensation of fullness. Hooking my pelvis with an arm, he drags hungry fingertips over the contour of my ass. Then just as quickly, dishes out another slap.
This time my teeth clench at the startling brutality. I whimper and brace for more, but pain doesn’t follow. Humidity clings to the tender flesh as he pauses for a beat, considering his next move. A starved groan rushes from his throat like he can’t hold back a second longer. Unforgiving scarred pads dig into my hipbones, and he drives his cock back inside me.
“This is what you like, beija flor, isn’t it?” His chest curls over my spine. “You like how it feels when I’m inside you.”
A fuzzy layer of vibrant green moss cushions my temple as his hips pistons so we are fully connected. My internal walls tighten around him, encouraging him to continue to ruin me. An extraordinary orgasm builds with the movement, claiming me from the inside out. Extreme and powerful.
Our animalistic desire grows with impatience. I’ve somehow become a slave to the merciless beast taking control of my body.
I scream as his limbs stiffen and a climax rips through his body, feeding into mine with a ferocious release. He supports my weight when everything goes black, making sure he empties himself fully inside me.
My knees buckle. My head spins, and the most erotic burst of endorphins drown any helpless thought of leaving. I’m both floating in the mist and grounded by the shackles clamping my waist.
When I gather my senses, I’m firmly planted. Crowded by his heaving sternum. Chest to chest. Salty sweat trickles into my mouth, blending with what’s left of my saliva. By the time my breathing regulates, he snatches my nape.
“Why couldn’t you just fly away, little hummingbird?” His nose runs along the curve of my jawline. “It would have been better for the both of us.”
“I was going to.” His feathered touch strokes scattered curls by my cheek. “I still can.”
“But you didn’t.” Flaming forest eyes drill into mine.
His lips part a fraction, revealing pristine white teeth, and then his mouth descends. Dante kisses me in the aftermath of our furious copulation. It’s not angry or brutal. He’s claiming me as his and marking his territory with lips so soft I could melt. Tenderly affirming his craving matching mine. He kisses me to life after taking everything from me. His tongue steals rhyme and reason. And right there, we kiss and kiss as if neither of us will be apart from the other again.
I should ignore the belly ache for my grieving parents. Hide from the pain of my sister's loss, but the niggle of doing the right thing still festers. Stay in Brazil and carry on the adventure or return to the Scottish Highlands?
My thoughts are tattered, unable to honor a decision. Perhaps I could fly home for a few weeks, hug my loved ones, gather important equipment and purchase a one-way ticket back to the rainforest.
The best of both worlds.
Dante and Iris.
My hair catches in his fingers when he frees my lips. “Does this mean you forgive me?” I mumble, filling the hot air we both share with hope.
His jaw twitches, and his eyebrows set with sudden hostility. The absence of words is swallowed by rustling leaves and the symphonic hum of insects. He pins me to the spot with lashes like poisonous arrows. “No.”
My brow creases. “No…”
“I haven’t finished avenging my sister,” he cuts me off. A distant crash of thunder threatens a new storm. “I need to figure out how Miguel knew to bring more men with him.” Lightning strobes the shadows. “You won’t get in the way the next time.”
“I’ll go home to my family for a while until you’ve settled the vendetta. I could bring back lab equipment and continue Bruce’s research. I can stay here while…”
“No chance,” he interrupts me again, putting an impersonal space between us. Flexed arms cross over his golden abdomen. “Iris Kitson, you are everything I hate…” His lungs expand like he’s fighting to breathe. “And everything I wish for.”
“I don’t understand.”
“This would never have a happy ending. I have nothing to offer you.”
“If you hate me that much, then what was all that about? That kiss. The sex… What was that to you, Dante?” Raindrops pitter patter on the canopy leaves overhead. A chill skates over my bare arms. I know what I felt, and he damn well felt it, too. There’s no denying it. As crazy as this relationship is, it’s worth fighting for.
A lightning bolt rips through the atmosphere. He stuffs both hands into his thick hair, clearly reaching his limit. “Stop asking questions.”
“Tell me!” I demand, all but stamping my foot.
“Don’t!” he yells back. “Iris… How could I really hate you? What I hate is what you did. That you risked your life and stole an important opportunity.” Both hands curl by his thighs, and his nostrils flare. “But I care about you so fucking much that it’s ripping me apart.” He slams a fist to his chest, punching his heart. “I didn’t want this. I tried everything to stop it. I’m fascinated by you. Infatuated… maybe it’s… fuck!” The bloodcurdling growl escaping him banishes the last words from his mouth. “Don’t push me, Iris,” he warns. “Don't fucking push me.” Bit by bit, his backbone locks into place as if he's resurrecting a wall of privacy. “We both know I can’t let you leave now.” His chest lifts and falls like he’s deliberating the consequences. “You’ll stay in the Oasis. Locked up. Under my protection, and mine only. That’s an order. Do you hear me?” His tone slices through the pitiful fantasy. “That’s the truth, beija flor. You belong to me. Whether or not you’re happy about that fact is irrelevant.”
This isn’t what I wanted. Not imprisoned under oppression.
Our gazes snag, both of us lost beneath a landslide of longing and anger. His pupils dilate, and those long inky lashes of his are lifted in shock at his honesty.
“You can’t lock me up.” I swallow down my fiery temper. “That’s not fair. It’s ridiculous. If you do this, I’ll only resent you. Whatever I feel for you now will most definitely turn to hate.”
His stare fixes on my mouth. “Watch me.”
“Dante, this is madness. I’d rather go home than become your pitiful pet,” I protest.
“My jungle. My rules. I don’t care if you hate me for it. Perhaps it’s the only way we’ll both get over this bullshit. You had your chance to leave. Now I’ve realized I can’t say goodbye yet. When I’m done with you, you can go wherever you want.” He rubs his jaw, and I get the impression he’s wondering how long it will take for our fire to die out.
“Well, if you refuse to send me home, then I choose to stay with you in the treehouse so we can work through this together. To find out if there’s really something happening between us other than lust.”
My whimsical comment earns a cruel chuckle. “You’re going straight back to your cabin.”
Supreme shoulders round as his glistening lips press into a firm pout. He’s a stunning sovereign who’s already stolen my freedom, my existence and unfortunately, my heart. And now he’s gone mad. Devout in the idea I’ll stay in the jungle until he’s had his fill.
He turns ninety degrees and stares down at the dried blood on his knuckles. “I hate how you put yourself in danger for me—like my sister did.” Although he’s giving me honesty, the tone he uses drips of acid. “Everything has changed. The threat in my jungle is gone. Miguel is dead now, and Maria doesn’t know about this place. I’ll finish her soon, and then it will be over.” His fingers curl into fists. “But be warned, bloodshed follows me.” He looks up, eyes narrowed. “Starting with the man who disobeyed my direct order and failed to ensure your safe passage out of the Oasis.”
My pulse skips. Salvador. “Dante… Please. It was all my fault. Not Sal’s. He made me promise to be at the helipad. I’m the one who let him down. I found a cave and lost track of time…”
“Not good enough. It was a simple instruction of vital importance to me. Ensuring your safety was paramount in my absence.” His lips contort so the words snarl out. “He disobeyed a direct order, and now he’ll pay for breaking my trust.”
“You wouldn’t hurt him?” Dante rolls his neck. A merciless flash of truth clouds his features. “If you hurt him, I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me? Never!”
“I don’t need forgiveness. I need justice.”
“Is that a fact? Well then, you’re really not the man I hoped you were.” My chest tightens under his glower. “All this talk of honesty and trust is bullshit. What about honor or respect? Or compassion. You think I’ll be happy locked up like a petting bird in an aviary? That I’ll worship you? You’re right, things have changed, and I don’t want to spend another second with el Fantasma.”
“Too late.” He turns his back. “Too fucking late.”
To be continued…
Want to find out what happens next in this dark romance trilogy? Can love truly exist in the confines of Dante’s Oasis or will their world have to fall apart first?
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The Jungle Oasis Trilogy
FEVER
FALL
FLAME
