Chapter Six

Brynna

N az takes me back to the old bookstore right off campus, where we first met. As we step through the glass-fronted door, the familiar, comforting smell of cracked leather and dusty pages swirls around me, settling my nerves.

The bell jangles, and the pretty blonde cashier glances in our direction.

Recognition flares in her eyes as she notices Naz at my side. A healthy dose of fear parades across her face.

Does everyone in this city know him on sight?

God, probably. His picture has been plastered all over the papers for as long as I can remember. He's more talked about around here than most celebrities, as notorious as the most reckless and wild of them. Only, the respect he's earned is the kind most people don't want—the kind we reserve for the boogeyman, for the childish flights of fancy that enthrall and fascinate us even as they terrify us.

We tiptoe to the closet and peer in, both terrified and full of awe, praying we don't wake the beast slumbering within…but desperate to see if he's really in there anyway. We want to glimpse him, even as we're afraid of casting our eyes upon him. We respect him and his boundaries because we know that if we don't, he'll destroy us. Gobble us up like those little pigs in a straw house.

That's Naz. The monster in the closet. The big, bad wolf.

And he has his fingers laced through mine, stroking my thumb as if we're just some ordinary couple, here to pick out something to read together.

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I can't stop. And yet…I can't. Every moment I spend with him binds me more tightly to him. I'm prey, tangled in the web of a hunting spider. And somewhere along the way, I think I stopped struggling. I gave in to the inevitable, waiting for his poison to infect me. Quivering in anticipation of his strike.

He catches my gaze, winking as he flips the sign over the door to closed. The cashier watches him do it, not saying a word. Stop Nazario Leyva? She wouldn't dare.

But I'm not her. And for some reason, this wicked man has let me see beneath the monstrous scales he presents to the world. There's more to him than just the monster. He's not just the cocaine prince. He's…Naz. And I think that man is as conflicted and disoriented by the connection growing between us as I am. He's just as human as I am. He just hides it better.

"Naz," I mutter, frowning in disapproval. "You can't just close the store because you're here."

"I'm not, princesa ." His striking eyes meet mine. "I'm closing it because you are."

My heart flutters at his casual sincerity, even though it shouldn't.

"They have a business to run," I protest.

"All will be well, mi alma ." He cups my cheek, his fingertips gentle as they feather across my cheekbone. "I'll ensure the store doesn't suffer for the privacy I carve out for you." His lips brush the shell of my ear. "You don't want your father to find out about us. I'm trying to ensure I follow your rules."

My father . It's a grim reminder of exactly what's at stake here, of exactly what I'm risking. I made a promise. I've spent the last four days wrestling with myself, trying like hell to convince myself to keep it. And as soon as Naz appeared, all of that inner turmoil meant exactly nothing. Precisely like I feared it would.

This man is dangerous to everything I'm trying to build for myself, exactly like I knew he would be. And yet, I'm here anyway, allowing him to pull me deeper into the store, my hand laced in his. And yet…I still taste the sin of his kiss, feel the electric heat of his hands on my body, and I want more. Crave it in a way I've never craved anything except freedom.

"You said I could ask you anything," I say, peering up at him as we stroll deeper into the store, away from the prying eyes of the cashier. "Did you mean it?"

He glances down at me, amusement painted across his handsome face. "Lying to you isn't one of my sins, Brynna."

"Oh, sure," I mutter, rolling my eyes at him as I set my book back on the shelf. "He murders and maims, but he has a moral objection to lying."

"No." His lips twitch. "I'll murder, maim, and lie like a motherfucker if necessary. I said lying to you isn't one of my sins. I don't lie to you ."

I reach out, tugging a random book from the shelf in front of us, processing. "Why not?"

"I want your trust," he murmurs. "You'll never give it to me if you doubt every word I say. You've been lied to so much in your life that trust is hard enough to come by without me getting in my own way here."

"How do you know I've been lied to?" I flip through random pages, not really paying attention, but trying to avoid meeting his gaze. Mostly because he's right, and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. The fact that he knows me so well is…unnerving.

"Because you still believe I'm the one who started this little war with your father." He sweeps strands of hair away from my neck, the brush of his knuckles against my skin sending a shiver through me.

"Did you?"

"No." His lips glide down the side of my throat, and I nearly drop my book. "He did, mi cielito . He's been putting his nose in my business, taking what doesn't belong to him."

"So you decided to take me," I whisper, my voice shaking.

"That was the plan until I met you." He curves his hand around my jaw, turning my face toward his. "It changed right here in this bookstore the first day we met."

"Why?" The question shakes on my lips, but I'm desperate to know the answer. And oddly…grateful that he's answering me at all. My father and Niall never do; he's right about that. Even when it's my safety at risk, they tell me as little as possible.

I'm supposed to remain loyal to a family and a business I know next to nothing about. And I get that they think they're protecting me by not exposing me to the things they do in the dark. But all they really accomplish by keeping me ignorant is…keeping me ignorant.

"Do you want the truth or a comforting lie?"

"I always want the truth, Naz."

"Because I wanted that fucking smile for myself, Brynna," he breathes, his lips inches from mine. "I wanted to know what it tasted like. I wanted to know what those pretty lips felt like wrapped around my cock. I wanted your light for myself." His lips brush mine as he nudges me deeper against the stack, pinning me between it and his hard body. His erection digs into my ass, and I bite my tongue, fighting a moan. "I wanted to break you and put you back together again, princesa ."

I whimper this time, my core clenching as a wave of heat rolls through me. What would it feel like to be broken by this man? To be ruined by him? I ache to find out in a way I've never ached for anything.

"For the record, I still want all of those things," he whispers, running his lips down the side of my throat. "The things I want to do to you right here, right now…" He presses his open mouth to my skin, groaning. " Fuck , Brynna. You have no idea."

I think I do. I want the same thing with a desperation that's terrifying. But…I need to know something first. Something real.

"Who are you, Naz?" I whisper, hating the plea in my voice as I turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. But dammit, it is a plea. He seems to know everything about me, and I know nothing about him. Some terrifying part of me wants to trust him. And yet…who am I trusting? The enemy my father hates? The potently sexual man who says he wants to break me and put me back together again? The enigmatic man I've seen only glimpses of here and there?

If I'm going to take a flying leap, I need something real, something tangible. The wild hammering of my heart, the fire in my veins…that's only enough in fairytales. And this isn't a fairytale. In those, everyone lives happily ever after, and only the villain dies. But in this world? Well, he's the villain, and falling for him may kill us all.

And I'm dangerously close to falling.

Naz leans in close, his lips brushing my cheek. "I'm the man who would lay waste to this whole fucking city for you, mi cielito . I'm exactly who they say I am." His voice is a deep rumble against my skin, setting fire to entire tracts of my soul. "People call me the god of war. Do you know why?"

I shake my head, my knees trembling at the raw honesty in his amber gaze. It steals my breath, tangling me even tighter in his web.

"Ares was brutal in battle, but Scythians killed hundreds just to ensure he'd watch over their people because he was a protector, too. So am I." Naz pauses. "I am who I am because I know what it's like to lose everything to someone far more fucking vicious than me." A hint of pain flickers across his handsome face, a glimpse behind the ruthless mask. "I do what I have to do to ensure the man responsible doesn't take another goddamn thing from me or my people ever again."

My heart aches for the little boy who lost his family, who had his world ripped away before he was even old enough to comprehend what that meant for him. The scars his past left behind linger in his eyes now, the wounds still festering after all this time.

I realize in this moment that underneath the cold cruelty he wears like armor, he's deeply lonely. It's an ache I understand far too well. Even with Dad and Niall, this world is isolating as hell. I've always been alone in a crowd, separated by bulletproof glass and bodyguards. Unable to trust anyone because trust is deadly.

Naz and I are opposite sides of the same sad, lonely coin. He became a monster trying to keep his loneliness at bay, to live in this world without letting it destroy him entirely. And me? Well, I got trapped into being a good, obedient little princess.

His honesty about who he is and why is a stark contrast to my family's overprotective coddling. With my father and Niall, I'm a fragile little doll, safe but smothered. I'm supposed to be part of this world but untouched by it.

Will it be the same with him? With everything he's already lost, can he really give me the freedom I crave, or would giving into whatever is between us just be exchanging one pretty cage for another?

"Am I just another possession for you to protect?" The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I force them out anyway. I need to know. "Because I've spent far too long in one of those pretty prisons already, Nazario. My father promised my mom that he'd keep me safe, and he's never seen past that promise. He never will."

Naz slides his fingers into my hair, cradling my head, his expression soft. "Protection is a necessity in this world, Brynna. Your father understands that, just like I do. We guard what belongs to us because we know the agony of losing what we love. He's afraid of losing you."

My heart clenches at his statement. He offers my father understanding in a way my father would never return. In his shoes, my father would have sought to divide us, to sow doubt. But Naz doesn't try to turn me against him. He doesn't try to create a wedge between me and the man who raised me. He simply…defends him. It's a kindness I didn't expect from him, one that humanizes him in a way that nothing else could.

And it allows me to see him in a way nothing else has. He may be everything he said he was, but there's far more under those monstrous scales than I think anyone else will ever know. And those are the parts of him that fascinate me.

Maybe he is the god of war like people say, a brutal tactician who murders and maims as easily as he breathes. But he's all too human, too. And that part of him is just as fierce as the other parts. It knows kindness. It craves love.

Does he even realize that's what he wants? Perhaps not. Will he let himself feel it? I don't know. But the ability to feel it? That's there.

I rise up on my toes, pressing my lips. "Thank you," I whisper. "For being honest."

He groans against me, his arms tightening around my waist. "Brynna," he whispers, his hands fisting into my shirt. " Dio, mi cielito . You're killing me."

I think I'm killing me, too. I press my face against his throat, trying to get myself under control. Instead, I manage to knock the book I was thumbing through off the shelf.

Naz glances down at it and chuckles, unwinding himself from around me. His gaze flicks to mine, his amber eyes full of mischief as he bends to pick it up. "Is there something in particular in here that caught your eye, Brynna?" His deep voice sends a shiver racing down my spine. "Because I'm more than willing to put you in any position you point out, little one."

"What?" My brows furrow in confusion. Right up until I glance down at the book and realize he's holding a copy of the Kama Sutra, anyway. Mortification floods through me, heat blazing in my cheeks.

"Oh my God. I didn't…I don't…" I stutter, my tongue suddenly tied in knots. "This is so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? No, mi cielito . You in any of these positions is a fucking dream come true." He flips through a few pages, his expression heated.

"You aren't helping," I groan.

He steps closer, crowding me up against the shelf again. "I'm not trying to help, Brynna. I like you trembling and sweet," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I like the flush to your cheeks and the way your pulse flutters." He nips my ear, his warm breath against my skin, stealing mine. "I like you thinking about me inside you."

I whimper, my knees quaking beneath me.

"Tell me, what filthy desires hide behind those innocent eyes, hmm? What is it that makes that sweet little body ache and burn?" he rasps, his voice gritty as he pulls back to look at me.

I swallow hard, my body trembling under his intense scrutiny. No one has ever looked at me the way he does—like he wants to consume me, possess me, worship me. Like he wants to own every thought in my head, every secret fantasy. It's thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

He trails his fingers along my wrist, branding me as his with nothing but his touch. "Do you want me to show you what you need so badly, Brynna?" he asks, his voice a seductive purr. "Do you want me to shatter you right here with entire worlds stretching out around us?"

Yes , I want to scream. I want it with an intensity that's terrifying. But the word lodges in my throat, trapped by the magnitude of this decision. If I give in now, let him in like this, there won't be any going back.

Naz will own me, body and soul. And I'll have willingly signed the deed.

As if sensing how badly I want to say yes, he lifts my chin with gentle fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Let go, cari?o ," he croons. "Trust me with your body, even if you can't trust me with your heart. Let me give this to you. Let me worship."

The last of my resistance crumbles, swept away by the tsunami of desire his plea sends crashing over me.

"Yes," I breathe, that single word sealing my fate. "Show me what I'm missing, Naz."

A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. He leans down, his mouth a breath from mine as he presses the book back into my hands. "Flip through your naughty little book, Brynna," he murmurs. "Find a position that makes your cunt ache for my touch."

My hands tremble as I slowly turn the pages, each new explicit image sending a jolt of lust straight to my core. His fingers dance down my spine in a teasing caress that has me arching into him, silently begging for more.

He chuckles, the wicked sound pulsing against my clit. "So responsive," he breathes, slipping his hand beneath the hem of my shirt. The feel of his palm against my bare skin is electric. "I've barely touched you, and you're already quivering so sweetly for me."

I gasp as he grazes the underside of my breast, my nipples tightening into aching points. He traces the lacy edge of my bra, his touch maddeningly light.

I'm on fire, every nerve ending screaming.

"Please," I whimper, letting the book fall from my hands as I press myself up against him, desperate to feel him everywhere.

He hauls me up against his chest, the hard ridge of his erection pressing against my stomach. I rock my hips against him, the move instinctive, automatic. I want him to burn like I do.

He groans, his careful control splintering. "Careful, little one," he warns, his voice rough and gritty. "Keep teasing me, and I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you right here against the bookshelves while the cashier listens to you scream."

A wild thrill rushes through me at his words, the threat in them only fueling the ache consuming me. I want him to lose control, to claim me as if he can't stop himself.

I don't want calm, careful Naz, the man trying to prove himself worthy of me. I want the wicked prince who pillages and conquers and takes no prisoners. That's who he really is. Infinitely capable of love, kind when it matters, but ruthless and completely at ease in his own skin, with his own dark desires.

I meet his gaze, a challenge in mine. "Then do it, Naz," I dare him breathlessly. "Take what you want."

A muscle ticks in his jaw, molten hunger burning in his eyes. His hand delves into my hair, gripping the fiery strands as he tilts my head back. "Last chance to run, cari?o ," he rumbles. "Because once I have you, I won't let you go."

I fist my hands in his shirt, anchoring myself to his hard body. "I'm not running," I whisper. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Something fierce and wild flares in his eyes, sparking a fire inside me as his mouth crashes down on mine. He steals the breath from my lungs, snatching it as if it belongs to him, as if I do. He doesn't kiss me, he claims my mouth, branding me as his.

I fall into it willingly, pouring everything I have into branding him back. I want him wrecked, too, shattered into pieces that I get to put back together.

His hand slides down my back to grip my ass, hauling me up until my legs wrap around his waist. The ridge of his cock nestles against my pussy, and I moan into his mouth, grinding against him shamelessly.

He tears his mouth from mine with a muttered curse. "Fuck, Brynna. Do you feel what you do to me?" He punctuates the question with a slow, deliberate rock of his hips. "Do you feel how fucking hard I am for you?"

Pleasure crashes through me in dizzying waves. I do feel it. God, I feel him trembling against me, so turned on his entire body shakes with need. My head falls back on a moan. "Naz, please…"

He captures my lips again, swallowing my cry of anticipation as he slips a hand between our bodies. His fingers graze my inner thigh, trailing higher, teasing my slit through the damp lace of my panties.

I jerk against him, a strangled moan tearing from my throat. I've never been this turned on, this desperate. It's like he's awakened something wild inside me, something not afraid to take what she wants, even in a fucking bookstore.

His fingers slip beneath the soaked lace, delving into the slick heat of my sex. I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Oh, princesa ," he breathes, his gaze flicking to mine. "No one has ever touched you before, have they?"

I shake my head, drowning in sensation as he plays with me, teasing me as if he knows exactly how to touch me, exactly how to break me.

"Good girl," he rasps, his eyes blazing with triumph. "Saving yourself for me. You knew I'd fucking kill anyone who had ever touched you, didn't you?"

"I…" I whimper, writhing against him. "God, please, Naz."

Two fingers tease my entrance, running in maddening circles before slipping inside. I gasp at the sudden intrusion, my inner muscles clenching around him.

"That's it, mi alma ," he growls, his breath hot against my ear. "Fuck my fingers. Let me feel how tight this sweet little cunt is."

I moan helplessly as he pumps them in and out, stretching me, filling me. It's not enough, not nearly enough, but it's so damn good.

Electric pleasure radiates through me with each thrust. My head falls back against the shelf as I arch into him, my mind numb with pleasure.

"More," I beg shamelessly. "I need more, Naz."

"Greedy girl." His wicked chuckle has my thighs trembling around his waist. "Can you take one more, princesa ?"

"I…I…" I whimper, hesitating. Can I? Should I? I don't know, but my inner muscles clench around him at the thought.

"Pull my cock out, Brynna. I want you to see what I'm going to ruin you with, little one. You'll beg for one more when you see it."

My hands shake as I fumble around, trying to obey. I finally manage to undo his belt, tugging at the button and zipper of his expensive pants with a desperation I've never felt before. I need to see him, to feel him.

I shove my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around his thick, hard length. He's so big, so fucking big.

God. How is he possibly going to fit inside me?

I glance up at him from beneath my lashes, a whimper lodged in my throat. "Naz…"

His amber eyes blaze as they meet mine. "Pull it out, princesa . Let me see those pretty eyes go wide when you realize exactly what I'm going to ruin you with."

I hold my breath as I pull him free, my eyes widening at the sight exactly like he said they would.

He's huge, long and thick, the broad head flushed a deep purple. A bead of moisture glistens at the tip, making me ache to run my tongue over it and taste him.

"One more, mi alma ?" he rasps, his voice gritty. "Can this greedy little pussy take one more now?"

I nod frantically, beyond words, beyond thought. I just need him stretching me until I break apart in his arms.

Pride flares in his eyes as he adds a third finger, sinking them deep inside me. I cry out at the exquisite stretch, my back bowing off the shelf. The pleasure is edged with a sting of pain so sweet it's almost unbearable. I instantly love it.

God. What is he doing to me? What is he turning me into?

I moan brokenly as he fucks me with his fingers, stroking deep. Within seconds, I'm on the edge of something earth-shattering.

"Look at you," he breathes. "You're so fucking beautiful letting me wreck you. Do you feel it yet?"

"F-feel what?" I gasp, quivering on the edge of something so deep it's terrifying.

His lips slide along my cheek, seeking my ear. "You, handing your soul to the fucking devil," he breathes before nipping the shell of my ear.

The combination of his sharp bite and his words splinters me apart. I shatter with a cry, his name a broken prayer on my lips. And in that moment, I feel him slip into place in my soul, claiming a little corner of it as his own.

"Good girl, mi alma ," he breathes against my skin, working me through every last aftershock. "Good girl."

"Naz," I whimper, pressing my face against his throat as my heart races and I gasp for breath. Bliss slides through my veins, turning me inside out.

Did I just hand the devil my soul? Probably.

Do I regret it? Not even a little bit.

"Brynna," he whispers back, nuzzling his face against me in a way that's achingly sweet. God, this man is nothing like I expected, and somehow, everything I expected at the same time.

The shrill ring of my phone shatters the moment before we can say anything else. I try to ignore it, desperate to cling to the blissful haze surrounding me, but it refuses to relent.

"Fuck," Naz mutters, lifting his head to look at me. Frustration burns in his gaze as if he knows exactly like I do that the ringing phone signals the end of our afternoon together. "You should probably get that, mi cielito ."

I nod reluctantly, fumbling to pull the phone from my pocket. As soon as I see Niall's name flashing across the screen, dread washes through me. My last class isn't even over yet. He shouldn't be calling me for another hour. Whatever he wants probably isn't good.

"It's my brother," I whisper, my heart sinking.

Naz nods, his jaw tight. Understanding flickers in his eyes even as his lips compress into a thin line. He gently slips his fingers from my body, setting me on my feet.

I take a breath, already missing his heat, and then swipe to answer the call, my hand trembling as I put the phone to my ear. "Niall? Why are you calling me in the middle of class? What's wrong?"

I watch as Naz tucks his still hard cock back into his pants, his eyes locked on my face.

"Where on campus are you?" Niall's voice is tense, strained. Something is wrong. "I'm on my way to get you."

"What? Why? I have another class."

"Sorry, baby sis. Not today, you don't. 'Da wants you home."

"But…"

"Where are you, Brynna?"

"Dodd Hall," I whisper, meeting Naz's gaze. "What's going on, Niall?"

"There's been a development with Naz," he says. "You don't need to worry about it. 'Da just wants you home until it blows over."

"Blows over?" I narrow my eyes, my heart pounding. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"See you in ten," he says, hanging up on me.

I huff a breath, squeezing my eyes closed as frustration and confusion swirl through me, alongside a healthy dose of fear.

God, what did they do?

"What's wrong, mi alma ?" Naz asks, reaching out to stroke my cheek.

"I…" I shake my head, my tongue cloven to the roof of my mouth. How am I supposed to answer him? What am I even supposed to say? Sorry, but I think my family just screwed you over again while you had your fingers buried inside me? But please, let's do it again soon?

Hopelessness surges through me as the reality of the situation sinks in. This is an impossible situation of my own making. No matter what I do, I'm betraying someone who matters to me.

I'm betraying my family by being here with Naz, by giving in to the magnetic pull between us. By letting him touch me, shatter me in ways no one else ever has. And I'm betraying Naz by walking away now, by leaving him in the dark about whatever Niall and my father have done this time.

I'm caught between two worlds, two loyalties, and I don't know what to do. How can I possibly choose? How can I turn my back on either one of them?

"Brynna," Naz murmurs, tipping my face up to his with his fingers beneath my chin. "Talk to me, princesa . Let me fix it."

"You can't," I choke, shaking my head miserably as tears well in my eyes. "I'm sorry, Naz. I have to go."

His gaze drifts over my face, seeking some explanation, some answer. But I don't have one. I'm stuck, unable to tell him the truth, but equally incapable of lying to him. If hell exists, I think this is it.

I'm walking a tightrope, caught between duty to my family and desire for this complicated man. And I can't help but wonder if I'm strong enough to keep my balance…or if I'm destined to fall. If we're all destined to fall.

Naz's expression softens as he steps closer, leaning down to brush his lips across my forehead. "Go, cari?o , do what you must. But this thing between us doesn't end here, not even close."

I'm not sure if he'll still mean that tomorrow, but I allow myself to lean into him for a moment, breathing him in.

"Be safe," I whisper. It's the only warning I can give him. I don't know if it's enough, but it has to be.

Please, let it be enough.

"Sweet, sweet Brynna," he whispers, his lips brushing my forehead again.

I wrench myself from his arms, my bottom lip quivering. And then I turn and hurry out before I lose the will to do it all.