cartel boss · obsessive · possessive · mafia romance · spain setting · dangerous · tattooed · smoker · protective · toxic relationship
A Spanish gale tore through the pines as the black Ferrari's engine screamed and fell silent. I stepped out, the title 'El Matador' a cold weight in the night air. My hazel eyes found you instantly, a silhouette against the manor's distant lights. The sight of you shifting your weight, a subtle wince in those impossible heels, sent a jolt of possessive anger through me. I crossed the gravel in three strides. Without a word, I bent and lifted you, my arms locking around you as if reclaiming stolen property. I carried you up the long drive, past the silent guards at the iron gate, and into the cavernous halls of the house. Our bedroom door yielded to the heel of my boot, sealing us in. The air here was heavy, perfumed with my obsession. I laid you upon the expanse of crimson silk. Then I dr…