Inferno : Ensenada Heat Book 1

by Tess Summers

  “Such a good slut,” he chuckled before pushing a finger deep inside. “Don’t move.”

  She let out a small whimper, clenching her hands on her thighs as he began to slowly fingerfuck her.

  “So wet.”

  He added a second finger as his thumb grazed her clit. Keni closed her eyes, willing herself not to lean back and expose herself more, or press her clit harder against his hand like she was aching to do.

  She must have done it involuntarily, because she felt a smack to her clit, and he removed his fingers from her pussy.

  “I said don’t move,” he chastised before delivering more swats to her clit.

  If that was supposed to be punishment, it was the best kind ever. Dante pinched her knot and tugged, demanding, “Come, let’s eat.”

  They approached the table, and her confusion about her role was now front and center. Normally, he was a gentleman and pulled her chair out for her—but playing the part of submissive, shouldn’t she wait until he was seated? Was he going to expect her to eat at his feet? Would he allow her the use of utensils?

  Oh for fuck’s sake. So many nuances and rules.

  He sat first, which indicated he wasn’t pulling her chair out for her. She couldn’t help but notice the erection tenting his suit pants.

  Okay, so now what?

  Dante patted his lap and gently ordered, “Sit.” She tried to comply demurely until he tugged on her knee and positioned her legs so one ankle was wrapped around each of his calves, exposing her pussy to him. He wasted no time resuming his leisurely fingering of her, as he instructed her to remove the covering on the plate and feed them.

  There was only one dish, but it was heaping with steak—already cut—mashed potatoes, and green beans. Her favorites.

  Manipulating food onto a fork while having her pussy played with was no easy feat. All she wanted to do was lean back and enjoy what he was doing to her. Attempting to concentrate on feeding him was torture, which she suspected was the point.

  The sound of her arousal filled the room as she fed him his first bite. He wrapped his lips around the fork with a low mmm, and she slowly removed the utensil from his mouth.

  “Now you, Bella,” he murmured before cupping her tit with his free hand and squeezing.

  Just as she took a bite, he inserted a second finger. How the hell was she supposed to chew while he was fingerfucking her? When she had first seen and smelled the meal, she was worried part of her punishment would include not being allowed to eat, but now she would have preferred that.

  Closing her eyes briefly, she bit back a moan. Fuck, that felt good. She wished it didn’t.

  She continued alternating between feeding him, then her. Dante was in no hurry with his ministrations, so while she continued to become more and more aroused, she wasn’t ready to fall off the cliff into orgasmland. Which was both sexy as fuck and frustrating as hell.

  When the main course was finished, she reached for the slice of cherry pie, but he stopped her. He lifted her off his lap and onto the table, then pushed on her shoulder so she was leaning back on her elbows with her legs spread in front of Dante’s face.

  Using a spoon, he scooped some of the pie filling onto her soaked pussy, then dove headfirst to lick it off her. She wasn’t sure if his moans of appreciation were for the flavor of the pie or her pussy. Unable to help herself, she cheekily asked.

  “The combination is a culinary delight,” he teased in return, then slid a finger into her ass without warning and snarled playfully, “Don’t speak again unless spoken to.”

  If he thought he was punishing her by fucking her ass while he tongued and fingered her pussy, he couldn’t be more mistaken. The sensation of his fingers and tongue were quickly becoming her undoing, and her stomach began to clench as she felt her pussy clamp down on his digit inside her.

  “Come on my tongue, Kennedy. Let me taste you,” he demanded as he replaced his finger with his tongue, and she quickly obeyed, crying out as her orgasm shot through her body like a current of electricity.

  “Fuck, you are delicious,” he groaned as he continued lapping her juices.

  This man—with his Dom tendencies, dirty mouth, and skilled technique—had ruined her for any other man. Dante Guzman, the cartel’s money man who was essentially holding her hostage. It had to be Stockholm syndrome.

  At least that’s what she would be telling herself in the morning.

  Chapter Nine

  Dante

  Kennedy lay panting on the tiny kitchenette table. Getting her off was almost as satisfying as his own orgasm.

  Almost.

  She caught her breath and, without him saying a word, slid off the table and onto her knees between his legs. She looked up at him with emerald-green doe eyes as she massaged his cock over his slacks.

  This woman was his goddamn kryptonite. How fitting that her eyes were the color of the fictional substance.

  Undoing his belt, she looked up at him to gauge his reaction. He guessed she was looking for permission to continue undressing him, so he affectionately stroked her hair in encouragement. She continued unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, and he helpfully lifted his hips when she began to tug his pants and boxer briefs down his thighs.

  His cock sprang out of his underwear, and Kennedy wasted no time in taking him in her mouth. Fuck, she did know how to suck his dick—swirling her tongue under his helmet, bobbing up and down on his shaft to make him nice and slippery, and pressing her tongue on the vein on the underside of his length.

  Dante grabbed a fistful of red hair and pushed her head down as he thrust up, holding her in place as he began to fuck her face. Once again, she looked up at him, and this time her eyes watered as she gagged on his cock. Why choking her with his dick turned him on so much, he had no idea, but it did.

  “Take it,” he growled as he thrust in and out of her mouth. “Take it all, slut.”

  Just like she always had, she obeyed. Her gargling noises only served to excite him more as he fucked her mouth faster. He pulled out of her mouth and began to spurt cum all over her face. Seeing her beautiful complexion glazed in his seed was a sight to behold, and he smeared it all over her cheeks with the tip of his cock.

  “Clean it,” he demanded and shoved his shaft back in her mouth. She readily went to work sucking him dry before greedily slurping his length. It wasn’t until she’d licked him clean, and he looked down at her dirty face still covered in cum, that he realized he’d wasted his seed by not filling her pussy with it.

  He’d have to rectify that in the morning. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to bed where he wiped her face with an extra cloth napkin from dinner. Her adoring, angelic smile made his heart happy, while her red hair fanned out on the pillowcase like flames in the moonlight ready to burn him. The two extremes weren’t lost on him.

  “Rest, Bella. You’re going to need it.”

  ****

  Kennedy

  She should not have felt as happy as she did when Dante crawled into bed next to her and pulled her into his arms; nor should her toes have curled when he kissed her shoulder and answered, “Of course,” when she asked if he was planning on sleeping there all night.

  As his lips grazed her skin, he murmured, “I knew you’d be back, one way or another.”

  “You did? How?”

  “Bella, you were either coming back under your own power, or I was going to find you eventually and bring you back.”

  She rolled onto her side, bending her elbow and resting her head in her hand to look at him.

  “You came close last month. Kudos to you. You overplayed your hand with the doctor though.” She lifted her head to use her hand to put air quotes around doctor. “Just some friendly advice: Sometimes less is more.”

  Dante traced his finger on her hip. “I put you on guard with him, didn’t I?”

  “Mmm-hmm. But how did you find me to begin with?”

  “There are some people in your organization who are looking to pad thei
r retirement, my love. Granted, they didn’t sell you out cheaply, but they sold you out nonetheless.”

  “Who?” she whispered, visibly upset at his revelation.

  “No one in your inner circle, but people who had clearance to your file. You were smart to go completely off the radar last month.”

  “Is that why you kidnapped Cassie? To bring me out of hiding?”

  “No, I had nothing to do with that. It was just a coincidence—but I did seize the opportunity when it presented itself.”

  “Knowing I’d be back, and you’d be waiting,” she said flatly.

  “Isn’t that why you took the assignment?” he said, too smugly for her liking. “You knew I’d discover you and not let you go. Wouldn’t you have been disappointed otherwise? You love me and wanted to come home.”

  He was spot-on, and that really pissed her off. She hated being so transparent. She had just barely admitted it to herself, and was still in the process of denying it. She had to deny her feelings. She could not be in love with him.

  “You’re wrong, Dante. I don’t love you. I never did. You were an assignment—that’s all.”

  His body stiffened at her words as if she’d physically struck him, his expression sad.

  “I hope you don’t really feel that way, little one.”

  Kennedy knew he was giving her an opportunity to take it back—an opportunity she stubbornly refused.

  “How could I love you? Have children with you? You’re a criminal. You profit on other people’s misery.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  “Goodnight, Kennedy Jones. Sleep well.” Without another word, he got out of the bed and dressed quietly, while she warred with herself to take it back and apologize.

  But she didn’t, and he left the room without looking back.

  Chapter Ten

  Kennedy

  She barely slept. Why did she say those things to him?

  Yes, he was a criminal, but that didn’t negate how she felt about him.

  It should, the angel—or devil—on her shoulder whispered. You cannot be with him.

  That was true. They couldn’t be together. How could she possibly be in love him? She’d spent her life bringing criminals to justice. And he thought they’d just be together and have babies? Although, they’d make really beautiful babies…

  She shook her head, as if that would jar the silly thought right out of her brain. Her feelings for him were based on mitigating circumstances. They weren’t real. None of this was real.

  She smelled the contents of the tray before she actually saw the covered platter on the dinette table. The same table he’d had her laid out on not ten hours earlier while he ate and owned her pussy.

  Padding across the room dressed in the peach nightgown she’d put on after he left, she lifted the silver lid and found bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs. They were definitely not presented to Rosa’s standards, so she couldn’t help but smile thinking of him making her breakfast—which promptly brought tears to her eyes. She re-covered the platter, but not before stealing a piece of bacon, then escaped into the bathroom where there were no cameras she was aware of.

  Once in the bathroom, she allowed the tears to come freely. She’d fought them all night, in case he was watching her. Sobbing into her pillow would have kinda negated what she’d told him. A few runaway tears had escaped when she couldn’t blink them away fast enough, but she’d simply rolled over and wiped her eyes with the sheet.

  The sadness she’d felt last night was finally unleashed and her tears turned into soft sobs. She’d been so excited to be in his arms again. It had been seven months and two days since he’d held her all night, and the contentment she’d felt when he said he was staying last night had gone straight to her soul.

  Your Stockholm syndrome soul.

  When she got out of here, she was headed straight into therapy. That would cure her. It had to.

  ****

  The only time she saw Dante over the next several days was when he dropped off her food tray and picked up the one from the previous meal.

  He was polite, asking her if he could bring her any specific books, magazines or movies, but always left quickly, dismissing her attempts at small talk and declining her invitations to dine with her.

  She didn’t like being dismissed by him, even though she deserved it. He was supposed to want her, dammit, even if she was being a brat. If he didn’t, why the hell was he keeping her here?

  He showed up earlier than usual with her dinner on the fourth night, dressed in a tuxedo, and the sight of him took her breath away.

  “Wow, you look handsome,” she remarked. “Hot date?”

  He shrugged. “I’m going to be gone until tomorrow, I’m not sure what time, but there are some pastries for breakfast and a small cooler with waters and soda. I’ll try to be back so you don’t have too late of a lunch.”

  She couldn’t resist asking, “Where are you going?”

  “The opera in San Diego.”

  “Oh.” She paused, waiting for him to assure her he wasn’t going with another woman. When he didn’t, she decided to give her future therapist fodder. “Who are you going with?”

  “Laila Hernandez.” He offered no other explanation.

  Keni knew Laila Hernandez was the daughter of Miguel Hernandez, also known as El Rey—the king. His syndicate and Dante’s families were not rivals; rather, they were able to work harmoniously together. Hernandez had temporarily assigned control of his Tucson operations to his second-in-command, while he focused on establishing a foothold in San Diego , with intelligence suggesting he received a lot of his supply from Ensenada.

  “How lovely,” she said caustically, although she tried to keep her tone even. His not wanting to spend time with her was starting to make sense now.

  “I’m sure it will be a nice evening.”

  Ouch.

  “Well, if you can convince her to have your little criminal babies, can I go home?”

  His tone was clipped, expression bored. “Your ability to leave is now dependent solely on my ability to ensure your safety. Nothing more. Once I have that shored up, I will let you go. You have my word.”

  “And when will that be?” she asked, crossing her arms under her chest.

  His eyes briefly fell to her boobs but he quickly looked up, trying to appear unaffected.

  “I’m having breakfast with my uncle in the morning. I should have a better estimate for you when I return.”

  “So you’re spending the night in San Diego.”

  Obviously he was; he’d told her he wasn’t returning until tomorrow, and that he was going to the opera with Laila Hernandez in San Diego tonight and staying until morning. She wasn’t sure why she needed him to reiterate that fact, other than that she was a glutton for punishment.

  “I am.”

  Keni gave him the obligatory I don’t give a shit nod and cheerfully said, “Well, enjoy your evening. I hope everything goes well with your uncle in the morning. I’d like to get back to my life. And wearing a bra and panties again.”

  ****

  Dante

  The last few days had been some of the worst ever. His only consolation was that he knew where she was, and that she was safe. He’d had such plans for her in that little room, and watching her in there now, alone, was hard. He wanted to go in and hold her, punish her, fuck her, and hold her some more. He wanted to smell her goddamn neck—especially in the morning after she’d first woken up. He wanted to feel her ass against his cock as they fell asleep. He wanted to have spirited conversations while they ate a meal. But most of all, he wanted her to want him.

  He knew she was lying when she said she didn’t love him, that he’d been nothing more than a part of her assignment. But he needed her to admit it, and to want to be his wife—stay with him, have a family with him—criminal dealings and all.

  If she couldn’t concede that, then he was going to let her go. But he was glad she hadn’t admitted it yet, because
he might end up having to let her go anyway.

  He’d approached his uncle about Kennedy’s safety the day after he reported Cassandra and Lucas’ escape. He confessed their relationship had been real, but hadn’t confided that he had her at the estate. Now Ramon was dangling Kennedy’s guaranteed safety in exchange for Dante’s wooing El Rey’s oldest daughter.

  “You don’t have to marry her, for Christ’s sake. Just show her a good time,” the family’s new boss had barked the previous night when Dante balked at the idea.

  “What part of I’m in love with Ruby Rhodes did you not understand?” His uncle still didn’t have a lock on Ruby’s real name and Dante wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  “Sobrino, you’re asking me to overlook a serious offense against the family. You’re going to have to offer something in return.”

  “Her offense was in the works before she even entered the picture. I knew all along who she was, about her plan. She’d confided everything to me.”

  Okay, so the last part was a lie. And a big risk to take uttering it. If his uncle knew he was lying to him, he’d pay the penalty. Dante was betting on Ramon not knowing the truth. The man had his ear to the ground, but he also had a lot going on, so his attention was divided among many things. Besides, Dante had played the whole situation close to the vest—only letting his most trusted people in on the truth; even then they were on a need-to-know basis, and no one other than John had the entire story.

  “And you didn’t think that was important information for me to know?”

  “Ramon, the fewer people who knew, the better. It worked, didn’t it?”

  “So why did she leave?”

  “Her life would have been in jeopardy if she’d stayed. Enrique’s guards were out for blood that night. Besides, the CIA couldn’t know she had fallen for her mark, could they? She had to leave for her safety.”