Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  All my years before joining the Bureau and meeting Dex had been difficult, really. When I joined the FBI, I found a community where I was valued and respected. And I’d found a best friend who never judged me or pushed me to talk about personal, unpleasant things. Dex and I shared a special companionship, even though I wanted to be more than his companion.

  But pursuing that path had been a mistake. My obsession with my friend and his darker sexual predilections had obviously fucked me up. I’d spent too many hours watching his kinky porn. I’d even followed him to a BDSM club on one particularly desperate Valentine’s Day, but he hadn’t noticed me watching him from the bar. He never noticed me, not the way I wanted him to.

  My yearning for Dex was the only explanation for why my body reacted to Andrés’ twisted treatment with signs of desire. Fear might still grip my mind when he touched me, but my body didn’t seem to care that I was afraid.

  I jolted when the bedroom door opened again. So annoying that Andrés hadn’t even bothered to lock it, but I couldn’t get close to it with this damn collar around my neck. It was like he did it to taunt me. Or to demonstrate his absolute power over me.

  If that was his intention, I had to admit to myself that he was doing a pretty good job at it.

  I scrambled upright from where I’d been laying dejected, staring up at the pretty crystal chandelier. I braced myself for the sight of Andrés’ hulking body and scarred face, but a different man appeared at the threshold. He was nearly as tall as my captor—a few inches over six feet—but his frame was wiry. He appeared to be as young as Lauren, a downy attempt at a dark blond beard only making him seem younger rather than more mature.

  Also like Lauren, he behaved oddly. He didn’t so much as glance in my direction as he wheeled a cart of cleaning supplies into the room and headed for the bathroom.

  “Hello,” I said tentatively.

  He didn’t respond in any way; he just kept going about his business, which I assumed was to tidy the suite while Andrés was out.

  “Um, hey.” I made an awkward wave to catch his attention.

  No response. He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the sounds of scrubbing, but no words.

  Was the man mute? Surely, he wasn’t blind.

  So why was he completely ignoring me?

  “Hey,” I called out. “I’m Sam.” I felt like an idiot introducing myself when I couldn’t even see him from my perch on the bed, but maybe if I made an attempt at normal conversation, he’d pay attention. There was a chance he was frightened, another captive who had been twisted like Lauren. I needed to get through to him.

  My efforts were ridiculous and ineffective.

  “What’s your name?” I asked loudly.

  He reappeared in the bedroom, wheeling his cart back toward the exit. He still didn’t look at me or respond in any way.

  “Wait,” I said desperately. “I need your help. Talk to me, please. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  His gray eyes finally riveted on me, narrowed in anger. “Of course I do,” he hissed. “Do you know what he’d do to me if I helped you? I have a future to think about. I’m not about to fuck it up by pissing off the boss. Especially not for some whore.”

  I flinched at the word whore, but I plowed on. “I can help you. If he’s threatened you, my friends can—”

  He barked out a laugh. “You think I’m being threatened into staying here? I’m paying my dues, you stupid bitch. Don’t fucking talk to me ever again. And don’t you dare tell him I spoke to you, or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Andrés interrupted the man, his voice deadly calm.

  My captor had approached far too quietly, appearing in the open doorway out of nowhere. The man paled and swallowed hard before slowly turning to face Andrés.

  “She was asking for help,” he said quickly, his voice hitching. “I was just saying—”

  Andrés took a menacing step toward him. “You were threatening her. You were looking at her. I told you not to look at her. You’re lucky she’s covered. Do you know what I do to men who look at what’s mine?”

  The boy shook his head and retreated back into the bedroom, moving toward me. He didn’t make it two steps before Andrés’ hand closed around his upper arm, vise-like. He jerked the boy’s body toward his, getting into his personal space.

  “Look at her again, and you’ll lose an eye,” Andrés said softly. “Threaten her again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do. You’re relieved of your duties. Never come into my quarters again.”

  He nodded, but he couldn’t seem to manage to speak. Andrés released him, pushing him away in disgust.

  “Leave,” he bit out.

  The boy hastened to comply, practically tripping over his feet to get to his cart and out of the bedroom. He disappeared further into the suite, Andrés’ imposing form blocking my view.

  I couldn’t have watched him leave, anyway. All my focus was on the terrifying man who’d just threatened to mutilate and murder one of the men who worked for him. Lauren had said Andrés was nice. The woman was obviously even more warped than I’d imagined. My captor radiated cold fury, his scarred face twisted in anger.

  I shrank back, scooting across the bed until the chain jerked at my collar.

  He sucked in a deep breath, and his fierce countenance eased as his eyes focused on my fearful expression. He took a step toward me, and I tried to move farther away. But all I accomplished was pulling at the leather around my neck. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape.

  He reached for me, and I flinched. That didn’t seem to concern him. He cupped my cheek in his big hand, hooking his thumb beneath my jaw so I couldn’t look away.

  “Calm, cosita,” he murmured, stroking my hair with his free hand. “You’re safe. He won’t hurt you.”

  “I’m not worried about him,” I said shrilly. “You’re the one who just calmly threatened to cut out someone’s eye. And I’m chained to your bed. Naked. I’m freaking afraid of you.” I brought my hands up to push him away, but he caught my wrists and pinned them behind me at the small of my back. He held them there with one hand and resumed stroking my hair.

  “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for threatening you,” Andrés responded. “I ordered him not to speak to you or look at you. He did both. I can’t have a man in my organization who thinks he can disobey me.”

  “So you murder anyone who defies you?” I asked, my voice shaking. I’d defied him. I’d tried to kill him.

  “I will never harm you, Samantha,” he said in reassuring tones as he continued to pet me. “No matter how defiant you may be.” A smile ghosted around his lips.

  “But you spanked me,” I argued. “You said you want to punish me.”

  “Only to correct your misbehavior,” he said, sounding as though it were the most rational response in the world. “I’d never do anything that would damage you. But yes, I won’t hesitate to punish you when you deserve it.”

  “I don’t deserve any of this,” I countered hotly, struggling uselessly against his grip.

  His gaze turned inward, his lips thinning. “Maybe not. But you’re mine now, and there’s no going back. I’m keeping you, and you’re my responsibility.”

  “I’m not yours,” I insisted. “And you’re not keeping me. You said that’s your brother’s decision. Did you tell him you believe I’m FBI? Have you both seen reason and decided to let me go before the Bureau comes for you?”

  “I’ll let him discuss this with you,” he replied.

  He released my wrists and wrapped one hand behind my nape, pulling me toward him. I was forced to scramble across the mattress and get to my feet.

  “Behave,” he ordered, squeezing my neck slightly in warning. Then he called out in Spanish.

  Cristian Moreno appeared in the doorway, flanked by two men who were nearly as massive as Andrés.

  My stomach dropped, and a horrible memory of Cristian’s knife slicing through my flesh flashed across my mind. I took a small step back, n
ot realizing I was positioning myself closer to Andrés.

  His grip on my neck eased, his fingers threading through my hair to massage my scalp. It helped ground me in the present, saving me from being thrust back into panic and choking terror.

  Cristian’s dark eyes—so like his brother’s—watched my movements, coldly calculating. It occurred to me that I’d moved away from one tormentor to find shelter with another, and I eased away from Andrés. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me firmly in place. He waited a few seconds, then released the tension and resumed massaging me once he was certain that I wasn’t going to struggle.

  “You are Samantha Browning,” Cristian announced. “Andrés is convinced, and I had my people look into your story. You’re a fed.” He sneered the last.

  I lifted my chin. “So you’ll let me go?”

  “No.”

  “But you have to,” I insisted in a rush. “If you keep me here, my friends—”

  “They won’t find you here,” he cut me off with cool certainty. “One of my shell corporations owns this building. They won’t trace it back to me.”

  “They know I was investigating your organization before you took me,” I said. “They’ll suspect you’re behind my disappearance. They’ll follow you until you lead them to me.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I don’t come here often. This is my little brother’s home.”

  Home? I thought, baffled. This entire freaking building was Andrés’ home? How much money did the Moreno family have at their disposal?

  “Besides,” he continued. “It’s not like I’m stupid enough to get out of my car out on the street. And your people don’t have surveillance cameras in our private garage for this building. Which, I’ll remind you, they have no idea I own. So, Samantha Browning, no one is going to find you.”

  My heart sank. If anyone could hack into Cristian Moreno’s life and trace his financials and properties, it was me. And I was trapped here, isolated from the Bureau and completely cut off from technology.

  “You’re going to kill me,” I surmised, my blood running cold. There was no reason to keep me around anymore. He’d checked into my story, confirmed my identity, and he still didn’t care that I was FBI. He wasn’t intimidated in the least.

  “No,” he said again. “You’re going to work for me from now on.”

  “What?” I asked, all the air leaving my lungs.

  “You’re going to erase all the evidence the FBI has on me. You will protect me and my business from them. If you do, I’ll let you live.”

  A staunch refusal teased at the tip of my tongue, but I held it back. If he wanted me to log into the FBI database, that meant he’d have to give me access to the internet. I could get a message to Dex.

  “Okay,” I agreed quickly. “I’ll need a computer.”

  Too quickly.

  He laughed, a hard, cold sound. “Do you think I’m a fool? You’ll contact the feds as soon as you get online. Now, I could just threaten to kill you if you try, but then you’d be useless to me if you’re dead. So, I’m going to leave you with my brother for a while longer. I’m sure he’ll break you in for me. He’s so good at that.”

  Andrés growled, and his fingers tightened in my hair. He bit out something in Spanish, too fast for me to catch a single word.

  Cristian smirked. “All right, hermanito,” he drawled. “You can keep this one. Just make sure she’s useful to me, and we won’t have any problems.”

  “Give me a month,” Andrés replied, resuming the calm, assured demeanor that so unnerved me.

  “You can have three weeks,” Cristian countered. “I don’t have time for you to play with your new toy. Break her, or I’ll find another way to ensure her cooperation.”

  Andrés nodded his agreement, as though their discussion of my fate wasn’t horrifying enough to make nausea curl in my stomach.

  “You can’t do this to me,” I managed faintly.

  Andrés’ fingers hooked through the back of the collar, pulling it tight around my throat. I could still breathe, but I was very aware of his control.

  “Quiet, cosita,” he commanded softly. “It’s done.”

  The world blurred with my tears, and I could barely make out Cristian’s suit-clad form retreating from the suite, his guards in tow. When they were out of sight, my tormentor pulled me against his hard body, and I sobbed into his chest.

  Chapter 6

  “You haven’t eaten, sirenita,” he murmured as he stroked his big hand up and down my back.

  I sniffled against him, collecting my thoughts as my wits returned. I tried to push away from him, but his arms firmed around me, trapping me against his hard body. He allowed me just enough space so I could lift my face to glower up at him.

  “I didn’t want to be drugged again,” I said hotly, a clear accusation.

  “I don’t need to drug you to keep you compliant.” His lips twisted in distaste. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “You drugged me last night,” I reminded him.

  He frowned at me. “You were hurting. I was sparing you more pain. Would you have preferred to suffer?”

  “Yes,” I defied him. “Then I could have at least kept the dignity of my clothing. You stripped me as soon as I was unconscious.”

  His brows rose. “Do you really think you’d still be wearing clothes if I didn’t want you to? You can’t hide from me, Samantha.”

  His fingers fisted in the sheet at my lower back, and he pulled at the soft fabric until it loosened and slid down my body. I twisted in his hold, struggling to cover myself. But my movements only made the sheet shimmy down my legs, leaving me completely bare against my captor. He still wore his sharply-tailored suit. The dichotomy of power was painfully obvious: he was fully dressed, while I was writhing naked in his arms, a collar still locked around my throat in a sign of his ownership.

  “You shouldn’t have covered yourself,” he reprimanded.

  “So you would have paraded me naked in front of everyone? In front of your brother? How fucked up is your family?”

  His jaw firmed. “I would have covered you before I invited Cristian in. I don’t let other men look at what’s mine.”

  I shoved at his chest, accomplishing nothing. “I’m not your property.”

  His hand fisted in my hair at my nape, tugging my head back and trapping me beneath his black stare. “You could be,” he said smoothly. “I could make you my plaything, my eager little fucktoy. And I think you would be eager, Samantha. Your body aches to be touched.”

  I squirmed against him, my blood pounding through my veins. “I don’t want to be your…” The words died on my tongue. They were so vile and vulgar, I couldn’t bear to repeat them. “I don’t want you to touch me,” I managed.

  “You do,” he countered coolly. “But you’re still afraid. You’re so innocent, you’re scared for me to touch your little pussy. That ends now. Your innocence is mine. Your pleasure is mine. You will accept my touch.”

  “I won’t,” I hissed. “I won’t invite you to rape me.”

  “I will never rape you,” he replied calmly. “And I won’t fuck you at your invitation. You will beg and weep for my cock before I give you what you want.”

  I shuddered in his arms, completely overwhelmed. In the space of a day, I’d been stripped of my rights, my dignity. And the way he spoke about breaking me with such calm assurance rocked me to my core. In his mind, my surrender was a foregone conclusion.

  Fuck. That. He might spank me, but I could handle it. A little sting on my flesh wasn’t going to break me. I glared up at him, defiant.

  “Go ahead and punish me, then,” I challenged. “You can spank me all you want, but I’ll never beg you to violate me.”

  One corner of his lips ticked up with perverse amusement. “I do enjoy a challenge,” he purred, his pupils dilating. I felt his cock stiffen against my belly. He leaned down, his lips skimming across my cheek before tickling the shell of my ear. “You enjoyed your spanking, so it’s
hardly a punishment,” he said, the whispered words threading through my mind, reaching deep inside and revealing the truth that I didn’t want to acknowledge. “But that’s not what I have planned for you. You owe me an orgasm. Your first. I want it. I’m going to make you come hard, so your body has no doubt that I’m your Master. I can give you pleasure. I can give you pain. Obedience is taught through discipline: punishment and reward. It’s time you learned exactly what that means.”

  I trembled, my heart hammering in my chest. I hadn’t realized that I’d stopped struggling. He was too strong, too powerful. And his crass words overwhelmed me more effectively than any physical show of force.

  His erection pressed against me, thick and hard. “Do you feel what you do to me, sirenita?” he asked, his voice rough with lust. “You are so beautiful when you’re like this; your little body shuddering in my arms. Are you frightened? Or aroused?” His teeth nipped at my ear, and I sucked in a sharp breath. “Or both?” His hand slid down the length of my spine, caressed the curve of my bare bottom, and dipped between my thighs. He hummed his approval when I whimpered. “Both,” he concluded with dark satisfaction as he found the slickness on my labia.

  He pressed a tender kiss against my neck, just below my ear. My nerve endings crackled with awareness, and my skin pebbled.

  “Stay,” he murmured before finally releasing me.

  I remained frozen where he’d left me, my body tingling with fear and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. I watched him with wide eyes as he crossed to the chest of drawers and retrieved a few items. This time, he slipped them into his pocket before I could make out what he’d selected.

  When he approached me once again, he held a length of black cloth wrapped around his fist. I took a step back, wariness making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “I like watching your lovely eyes when I’m playing with you, but this will make you more aware of what I’m making you feel,” he told me.

  “What?” I asked faintly, but I didn’t have long to wonder what he meant.