Chapter 19: Luis

Next, I call Tom. "Arturo is coming back. We have a meeting tomorrow to discuss his role in my father's death. I think he's aware he is being accused so there's no point in him being coy anymore. Word is that he will attempt an assault tonight rather than face me tomorrow. It hasn't been easy to ferret the information out, but I can be persuasive."

Tom is excited. "Good, I hope that shit gets what's coming to him."

I smile as I stare into Lena's eyes. "He will. The men loyal to me will take him alive. Leave him for me, when the time is right. He doesn't know that I know about the planned assault. He thinks it'll be a cakewalk."

Then Tom says the words I've been waiting for. "How can I help?"

"I might need to take you up on your generous offer to shelter me. We're ready but things sometimes go sideways. I might need to run for my life." I pause as I think. "And if you can spare some manpower, to lend a hand in the house, to fend off the assault, that would be appreciated."

Tom doesn't hesitate. "Of course, Luis. You're like a son to me." He laughs as he says it. "The difficult son, the one that needed his ass kicked more than it happened. But still… you are your father's son and that matters to me. I'll send my son, along with a half-dozen men over. Where do you want them – the house?"

"Yes. Thank you, Tom." I exhale my relief that things are unfolding according to plan. Even though he'd already offered to help at the funeral, he might have changed his mind. Might think it too dangerous to open his home to me.

"What about the bodyguard, you bringing her too?"

"Lena?" Her eyes flash to mine as I say her name. I squeeze her hand and continue talking. "No, Tom. I wouldn't use her as my bodyguard. She'll stay and fight alongside my men."

As I hang up, Lena comes to me and drapes her arms around my shoulders, still tentative, still reticent, like I might reject her. I pull her into me and nuzzle her neck as I breathe her in. "I don't like it," I murmur against her.

"I promise I'll keep my head down as much as I can."

I look at her. "No. that's not what I meant. Obviously, I don't like how involved you are in this setup. But I meant that I don't like that you smell like me. It was nice for a while, but I want my woman smelling like a woman. We need to get you some pretty soaps."

She smiles. "I have some. Your father wanted me to smell pretty too."

Heat flames through me and my hand bites into her waist as she tells me this. I grab her hand, banding her fingers cruelly and drag her to her room. I've never been in it and I'm shocked. It's next to the master bedroom, my father's, to continue the illusion of them as a couple. It's big, comfortable enough, but it's completely barren. A small bed, a night table and a dresser. A bathroom attached with nothing in it. "Where is it? Where's all the pretty shit my father gave you?"

Lena bites her lip. She's pale and afraid of me. If I wasn't so pissed, I would find it amusing that she'll fight me in play but not defend herself against me when I'm serious. If I struck her right now, I think she'd take it and forgive me. But I made a promise not to hurt her and I intend to keep it. "It's in his room. I was to appear to be his girlfriend, so I showered and changed in his ensuite."

My heart is thudding in my chest. "You said you weren't fucking."

She shakes her head, her words sound like a plea. "We weren't, I promise you, Luis. He would never touch me. I was his bodyguard, nothing more, nothing less. I slept here but showered and dressed there so he could approve. So people would think we were f-fucking."

I run my fingers through my hair. "You will never enter that room again." Then I stop. That room is mine now and as the master of the house, I should be in it. But the pain in my chest grows at the thought of crossing that threshold. Lena is waiting for me to finish. "When this is over, if it goes according to plan, I'll have that room torn apart to the floorboards and redecorated. Then you and I will make it ours, together."

Lena gives me a ghost of a smile, relaxing a little. "I'd like that."

She's so beautiful, standing in my T-shirt, bare legs and sexy feet. I want a last meal before the execution, so I pull her to me, slam her against me and kiss her mercilessly. She thinks to play as she brings her hands up to break my hold, but I grip her hair, yank her head back so her throat is exposed. "Don't fight me, Lena. I'm not in the mood."

"What do you want then?" She's confused, doesn't really understand how to be in a relationship.

I propel her backwards to the bed, then shove her down, my weight pinning her as I kiss her again, tongue in her mouth, assaulting her lips until neither of us can breathe. Then I do it again. Nothing gentle or subtle. No lover's nips, no gentleness. I'm hard and needy and savage as I sit up on top of her, straddle her as I drag my shirt over my head and throw it to the floor. Then I grip the T-shirt she's wearing and rip it open. No bra to impede me and I slide down on her, drop my head between the hollow of her breasts, inhaling her before I take a nipple in my mouth, suck it until she's gasping, while I twist her other nipple between my fingers. I take as much of her breast into my mouth as I can, then pull up, squeezing them both, holding them.

I forget this woman's history, her vulnerability. I'm a caveman and I want only one thing. To own, possess, make her mine in an indelible way. I want her to know that she's mine. I want her to understand that she must die before she submits or gives herself to another man. I pull her arms up over her head, pull the torn fabric of the shirt to her hands and knot it around her wrists. "Don't move your arms."

She nods as her body trembles, her pupils dark and dilated. I can't tell if I'm terrorizing or exciting her, but I'm beyond caring either way. I shove her legs open and bring my arms under her thighs, opening her further, exposing her to me as I drop my lips to her pussy, my tongue demanding a taste of her.

I lap at her slit, suck at her clit until she's moaning, until an orgasm rips through her, until she's sensitive and crying for me to stop. But I don't. She's mine. She needs to know it. I bite her, marking her inner thigh as I plunder her with my fingers, slamming two into her dripping pussy while I eat her cunt, raking her clit until she's flooding with desire, until she's begging me for release. Until she explodes with a shriek, a moan, her ass thrusting, seeking my mouth and then trying to escape the assault.

While she's still coming down, I kneel over her, undoing my pants, freeing my erection. I'm hard beyond reason. I gather her thighs in my arms and pull her legs to my shoulders as I plunge into her. Brutal and savage, not letting her recover from her orgasm, slamming her with everything I have. She arches underneath me, groaning her pleasure, her breathing ragged. Her face is flushed, her eyes closed as she takes it, but it's wanting I see on her features, not fear. And it makes me frenzied, until I can't control myself. I flip her to her belly and force her up on her knees, then impale her from behind.

"Oh, god. Fuck." She's high again and lost, clawing at the blankets with her hands, trying to get me to turn her so she can face me. She wants to come and she needs some traction for her needy clit.

"Use your fucking fingers, Lena." I am grunting. "Do it yourself. Come for me, sweetheart."

She reaches for her pussy, her fingers scrambling at her clit, stroking it, forgetting about me as she takes herself higher. And I'm fucked knowing what she's doing, thinking about how she's stroking herself, how she's fucking herself. And then I come, my breath squeezing out of me, my balls cramping as they tighten. She's keening under me, her ass slapping against my pelvis, her pussy tightening, then spasming.

"Fuck. Oh fuck!" She says and then we're done, spent. I fall on her, flatten her because I'm numb. She takes it, carrying me on her back.

For a minute, maybe two, we lay there catching our breath, savouring our passion. And then I slide to the side and we fold into each other on the narrow bed, in the empty room. Stark reality grabbing at us. I hold her tighter to me. I hope this isn't the last time I'll get to hold her.

All the players are in place. Arturo, Juan, Emiliano, Tom and his sons. An old era about to die as a new one takes root.