The Cartel King: A Captive Mafia Romance

by Bella King

  I can hear the sound of footsteps, Rey’s leather boots against the crunchy sand on the road. He’s coming around the car toward me, and I hold my breath as I hear his hand come down on the latch.

  Orange light pours into the truck as I’m met with fresh air. I gasp it in, breathing deep as I realize just how stuffy it was in the trunk. I’m covered in my own sweat, and the loose hairs from my braids are stuck all over my face.

  “Did you enjoy the ride?” Rey asks, leaning over me with one hand still on the lid of the trunk.

  “Not at all,” I reply, frowning at him. “Are you going to let me out now?”

  “If you’ll stop trying to escape.”

  “I don’t think there’s any hope for me now,” I reply. “I don’t even know where I am.”

  “Still in Texas,” he says as he reaches out and clasps a large hand over my shoulder. He pulls me up into a sitting position, helping me out of the car.

  A strong headrush hits me, causing me to buckle over and lose balance as I come out of the trunk. I’ve been in there for so long that I’ve likely sweated out all the water in my body. I’m severely dehydrated.

  Rey catches me, holding me up in his powerful arms. His actions are effortless as he heaves me over his shoulder and carries me to the front of the car. “I got you something to eat and drink,” I can hear him say.

  My heart slams beneath my ribs, trying to bring me back to full consciousness. I feel like I’m flying, like how I used to try to on the swing-sets when I was younger. I used to think that I could touch the sun with my feet if I swung high enough.

  My back hits the leather seat behind me hard as Rey drops me there. “You need to drink something,” he says, and I feel a plastic straw poke my lips.

  My mouth finds it instinctually, sucking up cold coke and gulping it down graciously as Rey stands by, watching me with his bandana covering his face again.

  I gulp down half the drink before speaking to him. “You almost killed me in there.”

  He shrugs. “Not on purpose. I had to keep you quiet.”

  “You’re crazy,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not how you treat a woman at all.”

  He laughs, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling in amusement. “It’s adorable that you have such standards. I, for one, don’t give a fuck.”

  “You should.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or…” I pause to think. “Or you’ll end up in hell.”

  Rey lets out a deep belly laugh, leaning back and putting his hands on his stomach. “Jesus, Marybeth. Do you hear yourself? Me, the cartel boss, is going to hell. Well, where the fuck else did you think I was going?” He erupts into laughter again.

  “It’s not funny,” I grumble.

  “It’s fucking hilarious,” he says, still laughing as he returns to the driver’s side of the car.

  “If you’re going to laugh at me, can you at least get this tube off my wrists? I can’t feel my fingers anymore.”

  Rey wipes a tear from his eye, chuckling softly as he undoes the knot of tubing around my wrists. “You’re really something, Marybeth.”

  I purse my lips, not responding to his mockery. Its men like him that end up the worst, and they want to make jokes about it. It’s not like he can’t still be saved, but he’d have to do a whole lot of work to redeem himself.

  I grab my drink the second my hands are free and continue drinking, finishing the rest of the coke without pause, even as the bubbles burn the back of my throat.

  “Slow down there,” Rey warns. “I’m not stopping until much later tonight.”

  “I can hold it,” I claim, straightening up in my seat, but I know that I won’t be able to. Slamming a large coke is never a good idea. Speaking of coke…

  “So, do you really sell cocaine, or is that just a myth?” I ask, looking at Rey’s serious side profile.

  He smirks. “Cocaine is our main export, but it’s not the only one.”

  “What else do you sell?”

  “I don’t sell anything,” he replies. “Other people sell it for me.”

  “Okay, but what else do you smuggle?”

  He shrugs. “Valuable things. Illegal things.”

  “Like money?” I ask, unable to keep my mouth shut.

  He chuckles. “Money isn’t illegal, Marybeth. Do you pay for your food in marbles?”

  I cross my arms. “You know what I mean. If you stole money, then it’s illegal.”

  He gives me a suspicious side-eye. “Were you snooping around in my trunk?”

  “No,” I reply, trying to appear innocent.

  Rey sighs. “Marybeth, I know you’re lying. You’re a terrible liar, by the way.”

  “I wasn’t lying,” I say, but my voice falters as I speak. He’s not going to believe me, and I’m aware that I’m doing a poor job of being convincing. Nobody would believe me.

  “If you like rummaging around in there so much, then I might put you back,” he says, his voice more amused than annoyed.

  I recoil at the thought of returning to the darkness. “I’m not going back in your trunk. It’s too hot, and I can’t breathe in there.”

  “Well, I’m not going to since you can’t keep your nose out of my stuff,” he replies.

  “Good, because I don’t like it.”

  “Nobody likes it. That’s kind of the point.”

  I groan, fed up with his bossy attitude. “No,” I tell him, trying to stand up for myself. “I’m claustrophobic, and you made me have a panic attack.”

  Rey shrugs.

  “Don’t shrug. Listen to me,” I say, clenching my fists. “I am not going to be locked up again. I won’t allow it.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Rey mutters.

  I move to slap him, but he catches my arm with lightning speed before it can land on his cheek. “Don’t fucking slap me,” he growls.

  “Don’t use that kind of language,” I counter. “It’s disrespectful.”

  He throws my hand back. “Why the fuck do you care?”

  I glare at him, folding my arms back over my chest. “Because even the worst people can be saved.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I don’t really give a fuck, okay? I’m sure your daddy told you all kinds of things, but he’s not here now, is he? I’m the boss, and you’re going to listen to me from now on.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” I reply.

  “You want me to prove it?” he asks, clenching his jaw and turning his head toward me. “I can prove it right now, and you’re not going to like it.”

  I make myself small, shrinking away from Rey’s towering body. He’s dangerous, and I’d rather be on his good side, but that’s difficult with the way he treats me. I just want to get out of this mess before it gets worse.

  “Who’s your boss?” he growls, staring me down.

  I look away.

  “Answer me,” he demands, his blue eyes burning a hole in my head.

  “You’re the boss,” I mumble, looking at my lap.

  “That’s better,” he says. “Eat your fucking food, and stop complaining.”

  My head snaps up so hard that it bounces against the headrest. “You bought me food?”

  He remains silent as he thrusts a paper bag out to me with a grim expression.

  I take the bag from him, shocked that he would do something so nice for me after all this. I thought for sure he would have me eating the rest of the dirty apples that are still rolling around in my foot space.

  “See, I’m not all that crooked like you think,” Rey says, removing a hand from the steering wheel and slapping it down on my thigh.

  A rush like never before surges through my legs, warmth flooding into my pelvis so hard that for a moment, I think I’ve wet myself. That’s not too far off from what’s going on between my thighs.

  I take a sharp breath in, staring down at Rey’s hand, studying the intricate veins and scars that run along the back of his hand and fingers. His grip is firm, but not too firm that it’s painfu
l. If anything, it’s a comfortable reminder of who’s in charge.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rey

  Marybeth digs her hand into the bag I gave her, pulling out a hamburger and quickly unwrapping it. She sinks her teeth into the bun, her eyes still fixed on the hand that I’ve left on her thigh. I have no intention of removing it.

  Her skin is soft and warm in my hand, a stark contrast to the gritty rough concrete walls that I’ve grown familiar with while in prison. My fingers feel as though they’re sinking into her, like quicksand, but I’d rather die between her thighs than anywhere else. She’s the definition of physical perfection, and she doesn’t even know it.

  I keep one hand on the wheel and one hand on my prize as she enjoys her food. When she’s finished, she may no longer tolerate my touch, but for now, she’s allowing it, and I’ll take all that I can get.

  Just the warmth of her flesh makes me erect. My cock is jutting out like a tower in my slim-fit jeans. She hasn’t looked at it yet, but I know that she can see it from the corner of her eyes. It’s only a matter of time before she gives it a direct look, and then it’s game over.

  Marybeth inhales her hamburger faster than I’ve ever seen a person eat. In prison, we used to eat so fast that the food wouldn’t even be chewed by the time it hit our stomachs, but I swear that she eats faster than that.

  She licks her lips, then her fingers, cleaning them off one at a time with her perfect mouth. My cock jerks up taller as I watch her lips wrap around the base of each finger, slowly sliding up to the tip with agonizingly strong suction. I know she’s doing this on purpose, but I don’t know if she understands what that will do to a man like me.

  I’m not like the men from her hometown.

  I have no self-control.

  “Are you finished?” I ask sarcastically as she finally lowers her hand.

  “Finished with what?” she asks, looking over to me innocently. Her big eyes flicker down to my erection, but she doesn’t react to it.

  I squeeze her thigh. “This is going to be a long trip. Maybe you should relax a little and unwind.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” she says, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

  I frown. “You’re taking a nap?”

  “Maybe.”

  I move my hand up her thigh, bumping it against the seam in her shorts, right between her legs. Heat radiates out from that spot, the warmth of a woman.

  Marybeth’s face doesn’t change as I press my hand against her shorts again, this time keeping it there and applying more pressure. My hand is already warm from gripping the steering wheel, but now it’s on fire.

  I hear a soft sigh as I begin to move my hand back and forth, rubbing that sensitive spot as we cruise down an empty road. At this point, neither of us can deny what’s happening, but surprisingly, Marybeth has done nothing to stop me. I wonder if she’s not as innocent as she seems.

  Finally, her eyes open, and she looks down at what I’m doing. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes grow wide as she watches me pet her.

  “You like that?” I ask, keeping my voice low as not to shock her out of her relaxed state.

  “I’m not supposed to,” she replies, avoiding a straight answer.

  “But you do,” I answer for her.

  “Yes,” she admits, then she looks toward me. “Is that bad?”

  I shrug. “It is what it is. You’re the one doing the judging around here.”

  “Because I’d like to be a good –”

  I press harder into her pussy.

  “Oh my god,” she gasps, closing her legs over my hand.

  I grin, enjoying her slow spiral into acceptance as I keep rubbing between her legs. For her, the pleasure must be incredible. Women like her, the ones who have never experienced sexual gratification, have no idea what they’re missing until they experience it. After that, their lives are never the same.

  Marybeth thrusts her hips out, closing her eyes and throwing her head back again as she lets out a soft moan. She bites her lip, trying to hold it back, but she can’t. I know what I’m doing, and my actions are deliberately designed to shatter her soul the minute she submits to the pleasure fully.

  I’ve danced with the devil, kissed the lips of death, and been places that most men can only dream of, but my favorite part of being an outlaw is the look of pleasure on a woman’s face when I give her an orgasm.

  I’m barely looking at the road, speeding down the blur of asphalt at over a hundred miles an hour. We could wreck right now, and that would be the end of us, but my hand is steady. I have enough experience to keep us from dying, but if we did, I imagine this would be the perfect way to go.

  “Open your legs,” I demand, coaxing Marybeth with the firm stroke of my fingers.

  She obeys me, spreading them wide and pushing her hips out further. She’s already surrendering to me, allowing me to take her body, if only just for her own selfish pleasure.

  But I love how selfish younger women are. I reckon that Marybeth is just barely pushing twenty-one, and at that age, she can only think of herself. She’ll do anything if it feels good. She’ll surrender quickly if the reward is high enough.

  Marybeth’s eye pop open as I remove my hand. She looks down, frowning as though I’ve done something terrible by denying her this pleasure, but that frown doesn’t last long once I thrust my fingers into the front of her shorts, moving under her silky panties and touching her mound.

  “Oh, f–” She bites her lip to keep from cursing.

  “Fuck,” I hiss with a smirk. “That’s right, say the word, Marybeth. Tell me how good it feels.”

  “Fuck,” she whispers.

  I chuckle, pushing my fingers down further until I find the hot sticky wetness I was looking for.

  There it is.

  She’s soaked, and it’s all for my enjoyment.

  I wiggle my fingers over her pussy, playing in her nectar as she moans and writhes against the soft white leather. Her face is pink, and her cheeks are flushed with tension as she struggles to process the feelings rolling through her body. She’ll cum quickly this way.

  “This is,” she pants, “So wrong.”

  “Yes, and that’s why you love it,” I reply.

  She whimpers, jerking her hips, and using my fingers to pleasure herself. I barely have to do any of the work now with her moving like this. She’s using my fingers to bring herself to orgasm, utterly addicted to the feeling.

  And just like that, she no longer cares who I am or where we are. I can see the switch flip in her head and the explosion of ecstasy inside of her body. The firecrackers in her brain are going off, colors flashing beneath her eyelids as she squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a cry.

  I ignore the road entirely as I watch her climax. Her mouth falls open, sucking in sharp breaths as the pleasure rolling through her. I feel honored to be the one to give this to her. She might be my captive, but I never intended to treat her poorly.

  Marybeth squirms in my hand, her juices soaking my fingers and her panties completely. She’s lost in the moment, utterly consumed by her orgasm. It’s a beautiful sight to behold because I never share the same mentality. When you have as much to worry about as I do, you never fully surrender to the moment unless you have a bottle of something strong in front of you.

  “Oh my god,” she says, coming down from the pleasure and opening her eyes again. She giggles, unable to look at me.

  I pull my hand out of her shorts, holding my fingers up to my face to observe her wetness of my hand.

  “Don’t do that,” she warns.

  I chuckle. “Embarrassed?”

  “No.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” I say, popping my wet fingers into my mouth.

  Her jaw drops even more than it did when she was cumming. Her expression is pure shock at me tasting her essence. I bet she’s never had a man do that before, and I can see everything she knows crumbling in her head in that instance.

  Marybeth shake
s her head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I reply, pulling my fingers out and smacking my lips. “Delicious.”

  “You’re too much.”

  “Yeah, and you love it.”

  She looks away, her facing turning an even rosier shade of pink. She can pretend to be offended all she wants, but I know she enjoyed every second of what I did to her. She’ll come back for more, too. I’m sure of it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marybeth

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Rey’s voice rumbles from above me.

  I try to ignore it. I’m dreaming about flying, and I don’t want to be disturbed.

  “Hey, I’m not going to let you sleep in the car.”

  I groan and swat my hand around, hoping that he’ll leave me alone.

  “Come on,” he says, grabbing my shoulder and yanking me back to consciousness.

  “Fucking hell,” I exclaim as I’m jerked my head out of his lap. I must’ve fallen asleep, but I barely member it. I guess a substantial meal and an orgasm will do that to you.

  “It’s not that bad,” Rey says, “But it’s getting chilly outside. I’m going to make a fire. Let’s go.”

  I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands and look around at where we are. It’s deep into the night, and we’re pulled way off the road, stopped in the middle of nowhere. I must’ve been asleep for a few hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as tired as I was after I finished eating.

  Rey opens his door and jumps out, still full of life and energy. How can that man keep going when we’ve been on the road for so long? It’s like he’s on a coffee IV drip, able to stay up for as long as he wants.

  I let out a long sigh as I push my door open, greeted by the cold night air as I step out. The second I see Rey’s handsome face again, I’m reminded of what happened in the car before I fell asleep.

  Damn, how could I let him do something like that to me? At least we didn’t have sex. That would’ve been a severe lapse in judgment on my part.

  Letting Rey touch me in such a personal way broke every rule I had for myself. In just a few hours, I’ve managed to let myself become tainted by one of the worst criminals in history. I should be ashamed.