“Do it,” she said.
His eyes widened and the frown lines around his mouth deepened.
“No,” he replied.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m angry.”
“Then set a number. A limit. Like with the swats.”
“I could flay your body apart in six strikes.” Matías slid his hand from her jaw down to her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t need to.
“Then use your hands.”
He stared at her for several moments. She wasn’t fooling herself, asking for the spanking wouldn’t rebuild the trust she’d broken. There was no doubt in her mind that she deserved whatever he meted out. She also had to be ready that he might never forgive her, and what they had, however fleeting, was over.
“Take off your dress,” he said, squeezing the slightest bit on her throat.
She’d only gotten into the dress with his help, but if she had to get out of it on her own, she’d make it happen. Raven twisted her arms around, working the zipper down from the nape of her neck, past her shoulders and lower, until she could wiggle it off, leaving her in the black strapless bra and panties.
Matías took the dress from her hands and tossed it to the side.
“Do you see that bench over there?” He pointed at a contraption that looked nothing like a bench she’d ever seen before. Still, she nodded. “Straddle that and wait for me. Go.”
She approached the piece of furniture. The wooden creation had three padded-leather surfaces, each maybe six inches wide, which made up a triangle, and was close to four feet long. The highest point was in the middle, with the other two on either side. She would have to kneel on the two lower platforms and straddle the highest.
Raven placed one knee on each side and leaned forward, bracing herself on the center of the spanking bench. Positioned like this, she was exposed and vulnerable. Appropriate, considering that was how she felt.
The moments dragged on as Matías paced back and forth in front of the wall of toys. She couldn’t tell if he was considering any of them or not. He paused suddenly and picked out a flogger with a handle as long as her arm. The leather tails were thick and brushed the floor as he strode toward her.
Oh, holy hell…what had she gotten herself into?
She gulped and stared.
Matías swung the flogger back, as if he had a baseball bat in his hands, and let it fly. The falls hit the back of the bench. The boom of sound was so loud she yelped and ducked.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“You asked for this.” His voice was a taunt she didn’t need. “Count them. To ten.”
“Ten?”
“Ten what?”
“Ten, Sir. Sorry.”
He pulled the flogger back and widened his stance.
She squeezed the bench tight and braced herself. This was going to hurt, really, really bad. What had she been thinking? Of course the punishment would match the crime. If she could move at all—much less sit—after this, it would be a miracle.
Matías grunted and she felt the displacement of air before the leather tails struck her solidly. They were so long they wrapped around her body. The echoing boom rattled her teeth, and she held her breath, waiting for the pain…that never came.
“Raven,” Matías snapped.
“One, Sir.”
It didn’t hurt. Like, at all.
Again, he grunted and swung. This time she breathed, exhaling as the falls impacted her upper back and shoulders, spreading out across the rest of her. She rocked forward and flinched at the sound—but there was no pain.
“Two, Sir.”
By the third strike, she sat up a little straighter and welcomed the warming sensation sinking into her skin as blood was brought to the surface. Matías roared as he swung, and the resounding thwap against her body made her heart beat a little faster, but at most it barely stung.
She counted, each strike falling in a different place, some harder than others. As her skin grew more sensitive, the more the blows stung, but even as she gasped out, “Ten, Sir,” it wasn’t too much to bear, though the weight of her guilt was lessened.
He tossed the flogger across the bench in front of her and pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her. His chest rose and fell nearly as fast as her own, their panting the only sound in the room. She clung to his forearm banding her shoulders as a life-line.
Please, let him forgive me.
Victor stepped over the threshold and into the oceanfront mansion rented by the Jiménez family.
“Where is he?” Victor asked his assistant, who waited in the foyer.
“The office.” The young man was dressed in all black, his hair mussed from the mask he’d worn.
“The power?”
“Cut. No security is on-line.”
“Good. The rest of the family?”
“Dead.”
Perfect.
Victor strode past the living room, which had recently been redone with arterial spray. There was just enough light to see the artistic arcs of red on the walls. He’d have to inspect the bodies himself, but first, Señor Jiménez owed him a favor.
The office was a well-appointed room, done in light blues and white. The man sitting on a small sofa, bleeding everywhere, lessened the aesthetic.
“Victor.” Señor Jiménez gasped, his face pale and blood on his lips.
“Oh, come now, old friend. You should have seen this coming. May I sit? I think I will.” Victor sank into an armchair and crossed an ankle over his knee.
“How could you?” Señor Jiménez’s tone was that of a man experiencing great loss. Victor understood that loss acutely. It was his family who had suffered Señor Jiménez climbing up the ranks.
“As easily as you could do this to another. It’s business.” Victor spread his hands. “You no longer drive this ship. It’s time to pass it on to another. Now, I need the access codes for the factory. You can save a life, but not yours. Give me the codes, and I spare your sister.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Carlos, I’ve already had your family killed. I would. Don’t pretend I won’t. Now, the codes? Or do I have to kill her, too? It would be a shame to leave little Maria without a mother.” Victor sighed.
Señor Jiménez stared at him. He wasn’t a stupid man, though he’d made some wrong decisions in the last few years. Victor could practically watch the wheels in the man’s head turning. They’d killed his security team, his family and he had to know he was next. So would he sacrifice his next of kin as well?
“Will you promise me Maria will be untouched?”
Interesting. He cared nothing for his sister, but the niece mattered.
“I promise,” Victor said.
“Fine. A pen.”
Victor nodded and his assistant produced a pad of paper and a pen.
“There’s a safe in my office. You will need this combination.” He wrote slowly, his breathing labored. Whatever injuries he’d suffered would kill him if they did not.
Victor’s assistant ripped the page off and handed I to him without looking at it.
“You’re sure this is correct? You haven’t been to your office in almost a year.” Victor studied the numbers and digits.
Señor Jiménez laughed. “You don’t know everything, Victor. You only think you do. Go ahead, kill me, but I’ll take my secrets to my grave.” He laughed louder, the sound crazed as it echoed in the small, tiled office.
Victor grasped the gun stuck in his assistant’s belt and aimed it at his former boss. He wouldn’t miss him, though, together they had built an empire. An empire that was now Victor’s.
He pulled the trigger, and the man laughed no more.
“Find Maria, and kill her—and her mother,” Victor said.
What secrets was Señor Jiménez taking to his grave?
Matías guided Raven through the condo and into the master suite. They hadn’t spoken since leaving the dungeon under Las Bovedas. At this point, with Victor’s diggin
g, he didn’t trust the man to not plant a thug to pose as their cab driver on the off chance he might hear something.
It shouldn’t surprise Matías that Victor knew what Hokee was doing, but he’d been blindsided. The old man had always struck him as the straight and narrow type, but money changed people.
He stopped Raven at the foot of the bed and turned her away from him. He still wanted to strangle her for withholding the truth from him. In the field like this, if he couldn’t trust her completely, she was a liability. But it wasn’t like she’d been prepared for this. He should have smelled a rat when she admitted she didn’t fly cargo—unless it was an emergency. He’d been so focused on her, he hadn’t wondered what kind of emergency would precipitate a change like that.
Matías unhooked the top of her dress, careful to not tangle his thick fingers in the delicate netting that draped over her shoulders, and tugged the zipper down to her hips. Her back was red, but unmarked. He breathed a sigh of relief and guided the dress to the floor.
It was remarkable how natural a submissive she was, now that the door was unlocked. She trusted him entirely too much—so why hadn’t she told him the important things?
The strapless bra went next, falling to the floor in the pile of clothes. He ran his fingers over the angry, red lines left by the constricting garment, but did not allow himself to kiss her.
Deception was part of human nature. There would always be things, people or causes a person was willing to cross that line to protect or get. So long as the cost was worth the gain, someone would always lie.
He understood Raven’s situation, as much as he hated it. If he were in the same position to protect his family, even though his job had forced a wedge between them, he couldn’t say that he wouldn’t be pressed to make the same choice. As much as he wanted to yell at her, put her nose in the corner and rage about it—it was a reasoning he understood. Family was all that was important in the world.
And yet, could he trust her?
Raven had flown them to Lazaro Cardenas without a problem, and there hadn’t been a hitch in their flight to Panama City, though she’d been nervous. He couldn’t fault her nerves, not with Victor staring daggers at her. Adding the omission of her family’s drug trafficking though, he just didn’t know what the next step was.
“Get into bed.” He gave her ass a pat.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. A little wrinkle marred her brow and her lips were pinched. It was hard to not smooth those imperfections away and comfort her.
“Did I stutter?” he said.
“No, Sir.”
Raven climbed into the big bed and drew the covers up over her, hiding her body from view.
He left her there, staring at him with hurt and confusion. He had to leave, to think and gather his thoughts.
Matías let Níłch’i out of his crate and snapped the leash on the little dog. Might as well put his frustrations to good use. He carried Níłch’i outside, toward the beach, before setting him down to do his business.
Staring out at the ocean, he was able to face the uncomfortable reality.
Raven mattered too much.
He’d always liked her. Admired her. Wanted her. But it was different now. She had her hooks in him. She was a liability. Being close to people was always dangerous in his line of work. Anyone you cared about could—and would—be used against you.
If this was still the simple buy bust he’d set out to do, how he felt about her wouldn’t be an issue. But now, with the looming deal to be Victor’s partner, how long would he stay with the DEA?
Until they took down not only Victor, but the Jiménez family.
Matías’ window of escape was shrinking. As much as he wanted out, he wouldn’t leave the job undone.
Could he close the door on what had started with Raven? Was that even possible?
His heart throbbed painfully at the thought. He pressed his hand to the ache and took a deep breath. Her deception hurt, but being without her was worse. It was a fucking inconvenient place to be. He didn’t want to give her up, but if he really cared for her, he’d send her far, far away from this mess.
There was probably a perfectly good psychological reasoning behind his attachment to her. She was a damsel in distress, in a dangerous situation and he could save her. What if it was all a product of their environment? Then why did he keep thinking about spending a day on the couch with her, watching TV? When he laid in bed next to her, and she drifted off to sleep, his fantasies took a decidedly domestic turn. Hell, even doing things like grocery shopping were appealing.
He strolled along the sidewalk and breathed deep of the ocean air.
If he cared about her, he needed to end what they’d begun, but he didn’t know if he could do it. Was it wrong to want something for himself? He’d spent his life being whoever he needed to be to get the job done. The only thing he’d ever kept for himself was a suitcase of BDSM toys in a sterile apartment that held no personal touches.
He stopped and let Níłch’i investigate a bed of plants. Victor’s people were backing off their watch. Maybe he’d passed some test tonight. Sometimes he had no idea what these bastards wanted him to be, but he’d done all right so far.
“Come on, buddy, we need to get back inside,” he muttered to the dog. He felt a measure of guilt for keeping the doxie inside so much, but soon enough he could hopefully get him home. Or wherever Raven wanted to land.
He picked Níłch’i up and carried him to the back entrance of the condo. The halls were quiet, not a soul in sight as he made his way back up to their apartment, with no further decisions made. Everything was as he’d left it, down to the seemingly random pile of sugar just inside the door. Only Raven and he knew to use the left one. Most people would use the right door.
Matías unhooked the leash and took his time making a circuit of the rooms, checking them all and flipping through the security footage. Again, the only ones to approach their door—was them.
This was a good sign that Victor was accepting they were who they claimed to be. That, or he had bigger fish to fry. What was going on between Victor and Oscar?
He checked his burner phone and had a message from a 773 number.
Everything’s getting set up. C U 2morrow.
Matías breathed a sigh of relief. A five-minute phone conversation with Damien might sell this whole undercover operation. He just hoped the man could come up with enough goods to make the show believable.
He was ignoring the problem at hand, which was the woman in the next room.
If he loved her, which he was pretty sure that was his problem after all these years, he’d let her go.
chapter Twelve
Matías stood at the door to the bedroom.
Raven lay curled up on her side, Níłch’i cradled to her chest and her dark hair spread out on the pillows. She glanced up at him, and though she tried to hide her inner turmoil, it was written into the lines and creases of her face.
What had they become? Had she stripped him just as bare? When she looked at him, did she see as much confliction written on his face?
He blew out a breath and undressed down to his boxers. Climbing into bed next to her soothed him. He lay facing her, watching her avoid his gaze and stroking Níłch’i’s fur.
“Thank you for taking him out,” she said.
“I needed to clear my head.”
She didn’t reply, but he felt her dread. It echoed his own, but for different reasons.
“I understand why you did what you did. I can even forgive it, but you have to promise me you’re done with Hokee.”
“I am. I was.” Raven propped her head up on her palm.
Her reply was so fast, and it rang of the same honesty with which she’d spoken earlier in the private play room. He believed her, even if he didn’t quite trust her.
“Good.” He reached over and brushed her hair from her face.
“I really am sorry. I was going to tell you this afternoon but…”
&nbs
p; “Next time you have something important to tell me, don’t wait.”
She nodded.
“And I shouldn’t have given in and punished you at the dungeon. It wasn’t the time or the place.” He’d lost it, and that was on him. Not her. “I shouldn’t have done it. Even if you asked me to. It wasn’t responsible or safe, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. What I did was worse.”
“No. I could have hurt you, I was that angry. And that’s not acceptable.” Come to think of it, he hadn’t been that angry in ages. Deep down, he didn’t care about Hokee. The old man was nice and good to work with, but it was Raven who’d crawled under his skin. It was her he wanted to trust beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“But I deserved it,” she muttered.
“No,” he replied with more force than necessary. “BDSM, what we do, it’s dangerous, and should never be approached in a place of anger. What I did was wrong. End of story. And it’s not your fault I went there, either. I was just so—angry.”
“I get it.”
“I don’t think you do.” He stroked the soft fur on Níłch’i’s muzzle.
He could preach the gospel of honesty to her all he wanted, but if he didn’t follow it as well, he might as well save his breath.
“I’m angry that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. You’ll trust me with your body, but not the truth.”
“I do trust you, I just…” She sighed. “I was afraid that if I told you, I’d lose you. Hokee is going to get caught. Me covering for him doesn’t fix things.”
It was almost comical. In a series of messes, they were afraid of the same thing. Losing what they’d found. Each other.
He lifted his gaze to her face, so open and honest. He wanted to believe she wouldn’t lie to him again, that what had happened was behind them. And yet. She’d done it once. She might do it again. He wanted to trust her, but could he?
If he never tried, he’d never know. But if she lied to him again, it might kill him.
She took a deep breath.
“If you can’t forgive me—”
Entrusted: A Drug of Desire Novel Page 17