MIGUELSalvatore’s eyes stayed fixed on me, the look in them dark and intent as he crossed the room. His movements were slow and unhurried, but every step held weight like he was stalking something he craved. Yes, this was my doing, and I was loving every bit of it. He needed to fuck me. Fast, too. Fuck not being able to take him.I was ready. I stood beside the bed with my shirt halfway off, my fingers fumbling at the last button as the fabric slipped from my shoulders. My bottom lip was still caught between my teeth, and my heart beat hard against my ribs as I watched him get closer. The heat building in my chest had nothing to do with the air around us. It was him. It was what he did to me just by looking.He came to a stop in front of me, his hands lifting with careful purpose. His fingers brushed the bare skin of my chest, and the soft contact sent a ripple down my spine. His voice was low when he spoke, rough and thick with hunger. “You’re killing me,” he said, his hands mov
MIGUEL“Miguel,” Salvatore said quietly and moved toward me, his eyes fixed on mine like he was trying to see if it was a joke. There was something heavy in the way he looked at me, something almost pleading beneath the controlled calm. When he stopped in front of me, his hands came up to rest on my shoulders.“We’re heading out on a mission. It’s going to be dangerous.”My pulse kicked up, thudding fast against my ribs, not from fear, but from that reckless, burning thrill that had taken root since the farmhouse. That event had cracked something open inside me, something feral and alive. I could still feel the phantom weight of the gun in my hand and hear the echo of those shots in my bones. The danger wasn’t something I wanted to avoid. I craved it. I needed it. It made me feel more real than anything ever had.I met his gaze squarely and stood my ground. “I’m coming with you,” I said firmly. Despite the fast thudding of my heart, my voice didn’t shake. “I want to be there, Sal.
SALVATOREI didn’t know what to think. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking when I slapped John so hard that the sound cracked through the silence like a gunshot. He dropped to his knees from the force of it. Miguel gasped behind me, his hand darting up mid-air like he meant to stop me but couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. He stared at me, blinking, his eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief.My blood was boiling. The sight of Miguel’s blood—his skin sliced open—fueled a fire I couldn’t control. My rage was raw, blinding. My chest rose and fell in short, furious bursts.“What the hell, John?” I roared, my voice scraping through my throat as I stared down at him.He was already trying to stand. One hand was pressed to the concrete while the other wiped at the blood dribbling from a split in his lip. “What was so damn difficult about keeping Miguel safe? I told you to stay with him! I told you to hold him back, and you let him run into that mess. What kind of man are you?”M
MIGUEL“I told you I’m fine,” I grumbled, but the words were weak even to my ears as Salvatore tore open the drawer.He wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t blame him. The fear I’d seen in his eyes in that warehouse was real. He grabbed antiseptic, bandages, ointments, and every other thing he needed to treat my cut. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid. We were finally back at the warehouse, and the men were celebrating their victory, but the bustle outside was barely audible through the thick walls.My name was on the lips of the men. They were surprised that I did that. Hell, someone even said he was surprised I’d been able to hold a gun properly. What a joke.He placed the supplies on the desk and turned toward me, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Sit,” he said. It was a command.I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand was already on my arm, guiding me toward the bed. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but I could feel his barely restrained fear.“I don’t care what yo
SALVATOREMorning light filtered through the office window, soft and golden, slipping across the sheets in slow-moving bands. I was still wrapped around Miguel, my chest pressed to his back, my arm resting over his waist. His skin was warm beneath my palm, golden from the sun and slightly damp from sleep. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his bare shoulder, tasting the remnants of last night’s closeness. My hand drifted across the smooth line of his stomach, memorizing every dip and ridge.His hair was messy, curling slightly at the ends, and it smelled sweet, like rest and shampoo, like something I never wanted to stop breathing in. The scent of him clung to me and the sheets, and it made something soft unfold in my chest. This didn’t feel real. The feeling of him close to me, and how easy it had been, finally, to hold him like this. After everything. After all the blood and fire and doubt. Now he was here, asleep in my arms, peaceful in a way I’d never seen.I smiled witho
MIGUELIt was annoying watching her being clingy to my man. Yes, you heard that right. He's mine. I had to stand back when the doctor stepped in, causing her to let go of Salvatore.“She is lucky her lungs weren’t punctured,” the doctor was saying, his voice touched with relief as he adjusted his glasses. He stood at the foot of her hospital bed with a clipboard in hand, his gaze flicking between her monitors and Salvatore’s bulky frame.The cause of the accident was annoying. It was clear from Salvatore’s expression that he didn’t want to be here, but, well, he was the one that was called. Salvatore turned to her, his arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. “Why would you get in a car with your friends when you were all drunk?” His eyes narrowed.Emily shrank back against the pillows, her face pale and blotchy from tears. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, twisting it between them as she mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Her voice was soft and cracked.She should have just died.
MIGUELI stormed into my room and walked over to my window, where I stood, with my arms folded tightly across my chest and my jaw locked as I stared down at the street below. My thoughts were a mess, circling the same memory on repeat: Paul’s face, the sharp crack of Salvatore’s fist, and the way I had to step in before it got worse. The anger was still fresh, crawling under my skin, making my body feel like a live wire.I couldn’t tell exactly why I was pissed, but one thing was sure, I wasn’t happy with what Salvatore did. I heard Salvatore come in but didn’t look away from the window. The quiet brush of his footsteps on the floor moved closer, then I felt the sudden warmth of his arms slide around me from behind. His chest pressed gently against my back, his breath soft when it touched the side of my neck. I couldn’t take comfort in it. I pulled away and shrugged off his arms without a word. He didn’t push. His hands fell to his sides, his voice turning softly. “I’m sorry,” he
SALVATORETight heat enveloped me as I pressed into him, the sensation flooding every nerve with fire. I grunted into his mouth. The feeling was almost too much.His hole gripped my cock with a perfect blend of heat and pressure that made my breath hitch and my thoughts blur. Miguel let out a sound of his own, deep and broken, as his nails dragged across my back and shoulders, carving lines of raw need into my skin. I trembled as I sank deeper, my hands gripping his hips like I was afraid he’d vanish if I let go. His legs locked around my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. Our chests collided, slick with sweat, and our breath mingled in the heavy quiet of the room.“Salvatore…”I kissed him harder, desperate to taste every inch of him. And I did.I didn’t rush. I took my time, letting each movement speak for me, making every thrust deliberate. Miguel matched me without hesitation. His hips lifted to meet mine, our rhythm syncing with a kind of f
MIGUELShe should have just died in that accident. It would have been better for everyone if she did.I stood by the window of my room with my arms folded tightly across my chest as I stared into the deepening twilight. The sky outside had bled into a bruised purple, shadows stretching long across the neighbourhood rooftops, but I hardly noticed any of it. My focus was locked inward on the boiling resentment twisting through me like smoke. From downstairs, Emily’s cries pierced the stillness reminding me of the storm that had moved back into this house.She was back. The bitch.Her return felt like a noose tightening around my throat. She was already taking up too much space, her voice dragging down every breath I tried to take. Every moan, every whimper from the living room tore at the fragile peace I’d been clinging to since Salvatore entered my life. She was shattering everything, as usual.Emily had always made things worse. Her brand of love had always come with strings, with
MIGUEL“Salvatore?”The evening light dyed the room in deep ember, glowing on the walls like a slow‑burning fire. I stretched under the sheets and called again, “Salvatore?”Every inch of my body stung with fatigue and satisfaction. Memories surfaced in small, delicious flashes. I could still feel Salvatore’s mouth on my skin and hear his gravel‑rough whisper of my name.I was about to call his name again when I saw it: a single sheet of thick ivory paper perched on the nightstand. I reached for it, squinting my brows, though I already knew who had left it.‘Gone to the warehouse to make sure things are in order. Be back soon.’Just seeing his pen strokes made me excited. It was like he was still here with his hand curved at my waist. I traced one dark slash of ink with my thumb, then grabbed my phone.“Hey, baby,” Salvatore answered after a single ring. His voice filled the quiet like velvet over stone. “You’re up.”“I woke up to you missing,” I admitted, shifting so the covers po
SALVATORETight heat enveloped me as I pressed into him, the sensation flooding every nerve with fire. I grunted into his mouth. The feeling was almost too much.His hole gripped my cock with a perfect blend of heat and pressure that made my breath hitch and my thoughts blur. Miguel let out a sound of his own, deep and broken, as his nails dragged across my back and shoulders, carving lines of raw need into my skin. I trembled as I sank deeper, my hands gripping his hips like I was afraid he’d vanish if I let go. His legs locked around my waist, pulling me even closer until there was no space left between us. Our chests collided, slick with sweat, and our breath mingled in the heavy quiet of the room.“Salvatore…”I kissed him harder, desperate to taste every inch of him. And I did.I didn’t rush. I took my time, letting each movement speak for me, making every thrust deliberate. Miguel matched me without hesitation. His hips lifted to meet mine, our rhythm syncing with a kind of f
MIGUELI stormed into my room and walked over to my window, where I stood, with my arms folded tightly across my chest and my jaw locked as I stared down at the street below. My thoughts were a mess, circling the same memory on repeat: Paul’s face, the sharp crack of Salvatore’s fist, and the way I had to step in before it got worse. The anger was still fresh, crawling under my skin, making my body feel like a live wire.I couldn’t tell exactly why I was pissed, but one thing was sure, I wasn’t happy with what Salvatore did. I heard Salvatore come in but didn’t look away from the window. The quiet brush of his footsteps on the floor moved closer, then I felt the sudden warmth of his arms slide around me from behind. His chest pressed gently against my back, his breath soft when it touched the side of my neck. I couldn’t take comfort in it. I pulled away and shrugged off his arms without a word. He didn’t push. His hands fell to his sides, his voice turning softly. “I’m sorry,” he
MIGUELIt was annoying watching her being clingy to my man. Yes, you heard that right. He's mine. I had to stand back when the doctor stepped in, causing her to let go of Salvatore.“She is lucky her lungs weren’t punctured,” the doctor was saying, his voice touched with relief as he adjusted his glasses. He stood at the foot of her hospital bed with a clipboard in hand, his gaze flicking between her monitors and Salvatore’s bulky frame.The cause of the accident was annoying. It was clear from Salvatore’s expression that he didn’t want to be here, but, well, he was the one that was called. Salvatore turned to her, his arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenched. “Why would you get in a car with your friends when you were all drunk?” His eyes narrowed.Emily shrank back against the pillows, her face pale and blotchy from tears. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, twisting it between them as she mumbled something I couldn’t hear. Her voice was soft and cracked.She should have just died.
SALVATOREMorning light filtered through the office window, soft and golden, slipping across the sheets in slow-moving bands. I was still wrapped around Miguel, my chest pressed to his back, my arm resting over his waist. His skin was warm beneath my palm, golden from the sun and slightly damp from sleep. I leaned in and brushed my lips against his bare shoulder, tasting the remnants of last night’s closeness. My hand drifted across the smooth line of his stomach, memorizing every dip and ridge.His hair was messy, curling slightly at the ends, and it smelled sweet, like rest and shampoo, like something I never wanted to stop breathing in. The scent of him clung to me and the sheets, and it made something soft unfold in my chest. This didn’t feel real. The feeling of him close to me, and how easy it had been, finally, to hold him like this. After everything. After all the blood and fire and doubt. Now he was here, asleep in my arms, peaceful in a way I’d never seen.I smiled witho
MIGUEL“I told you I’m fine,” I grumbled, but the words were weak even to my ears as Salvatore tore open the drawer.He wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t blame him. The fear I’d seen in his eyes in that warehouse was real. He grabbed antiseptic, bandages, ointments, and every other thing he needed to treat my cut. His jaw was clenched, his shoulders rigid. We were finally back at the warehouse, and the men were celebrating their victory, but the bustle outside was barely audible through the thick walls.My name was on the lips of the men. They were surprised that I did that. Hell, someone even said he was surprised I’d been able to hold a gun properly. What a joke.He placed the supplies on the desk and turned toward me, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Sit,” he said. It was a command.I opened my mouth to argue, but his hand was already on my arm, guiding me toward the bed. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, but I could feel his barely restrained fear.“I don’t care what yo
SALVATOREI didn’t know what to think. Hell, I wasn’t even thinking when I slapped John so hard that the sound cracked through the silence like a gunshot. He dropped to his knees from the force of it. Miguel gasped behind me, his hand darting up mid-air like he meant to stop me but couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. He stared at me, blinking, his eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief.My blood was boiling. The sight of Miguel’s blood—his skin sliced open—fueled a fire I couldn’t control. My rage was raw, blinding. My chest rose and fell in short, furious bursts.“What the hell, John?” I roared, my voice scraping through my throat as I stared down at him.He was already trying to stand. One hand was pressed to the concrete while the other wiped at the blood dribbling from a split in his lip. “What was so damn difficult about keeping Miguel safe? I told you to stay with him! I told you to hold him back, and you let him run into that mess. What kind of man are you?”M
MIGUEL“Miguel,” Salvatore said quietly and moved toward me, his eyes fixed on mine like he was trying to see if it was a joke. There was something heavy in the way he looked at me, something almost pleading beneath the controlled calm. When he stopped in front of me, his hands came up to rest on my shoulders.“We’re heading out on a mission. It’s going to be dangerous.”My pulse kicked up, thudding fast against my ribs, not from fear, but from that reckless, burning thrill that had taken root since the farmhouse. That event had cracked something open inside me, something feral and alive. I could still feel the phantom weight of the gun in my hand and hear the echo of those shots in my bones. The danger wasn’t something I wanted to avoid. I craved it. I needed it. It made me feel more real than anything ever had.I met his gaze squarely and stood my ground. “I’m coming with you,” I said firmly. Despite the fast thudding of my heart, my voice didn’t shake. “I want to be there, Sal.