Sierra

T he walk back to the hotel is filled with the sexual tension that surrounded us in the car, as if there were fog consuming just us. I barely remember the walk from the lobby to the elevator, the fog of desire taking every part of our oxygen away until all we can breathe is the lust that continues to grow as he pushes the button for the elevator.

We wait there in silence, watching each other in curiosity and admiration. The elevator doors open, and we step forward in unison. As soon as the door clicks, I turn around facing the door to see his dark whiskey eyes staring at me with anger and lust. The doors slowly shut, and Julian pounces, his hands are on my waist guiding me to the wall. Silent gasps and moans escape my lips the moment my back connects to the metal barrier. His grip tightens on my waist with one hand while the other slowly moves up my stomach, the hem of my shirt following the movement of his hand. My heart begins to thump faster as his hand moves up to my breasts, fisting the shirt for a moment as he brings his lips to mine.

The kiss sets off a ricochet of explosions between us breaking the barrier that was left of the walls I carefully tried to build. Shattering every piece of resolve, of logic that this is the worst decision that could happen. His grip on my shirt loosens and continues on its own path, he moves it slowly underneath my arm and brings the hand that holds my bridesmaid dress over my head while he mimics the motions with the other hand.

His lips never leave mine as we continue feeding each other moan after moan. His hips thrust, allowing me to feel his hard length against my stomach. Trapping my bottom lip between his teeth he bites hard enough to break skin until the metallic taste mixes with our saliva. The taste has my knees buckle, the reminder of our first kiss has me moving my hips along with him. I want him. Needing him in a way that I've never needed a person.

The door flings open, the chatter of a few people talking slowly dying down breaks us from the fog for just a moment. Letting go of me, he turns and straightens his suit while the blush of embarrassment quickly takes over my face.

"This elevator is a little busy," he says, pushing the close door button and hitting the fourth floor. This time, he waits until the elevator moves before he grabs hold of my hand and brings me to his chest. Keeping me engulfed in his masculine scent, my eyes tracing the crosses on his neck while I listen to his heartbeat thump as rapidly as he makes mine.

Ding . As soon as the doors start to open his hold on my hand tightens like he's afraid I'll escape his hold as he drags me to where my room is.

"I left my keycard inside," I whisper as he pulls out his wallet from his pocket and removes a card identical to what I had.

"I told Gladys you were my wife. She gave me a new one," he says, like it's no big deal as he taps the reader and opens the door. His wife. I like the sound of that a little too much, but we can't. I can't betray Catalina like that; she loves me, but what if she sees me differently when she learns what I've become?!

Shaking my head of those thoughts, I follow Julian inside. We have about seven hours before we have to go to the ceremony, my mood quickly shifts to one that has me itching to reach for my hair ties to feel a little pain against my skin before some much-needed rest. Julian watches me as we enter the bedroom. It's like he can read the way my mind echoes with questions and worries.

"Get out of your head, bruja," he says, closing the distance between us. It's like he's warding off the negativity that seems to drown me whenever I get too vulnerable.

"Drop it, Demon. This," I say flinging my occupied hands between us, "can't happen. I can't. You don't do relationships. So, why are you here? What are you doing here?" The crinkle of the bag that the dress is in fills the empty silence.

"Out of everything I said, that's what you got out of it? Did you not understand that there is something about you that speaks to me, Mu?eca. You . Out of thirty years of living a life with dead emotions and pretending to be normal. You are the only one that brought me to life. La unica." Grabbing my wrist, he forces me to drop the dress and places my palm on his hard chest where his heart is. The rapid beating taps my palm like his heart was on the verge from ripping from his body.

"Tu eres la unica que me hace sentir asi," he whispers. I'm not sure what it means, but it sounds tender and sincere.

"This is nothing," I repeat more to myself than him, and my voice cracks as I choke back the tears. Why does this hurt?

"You'll learn, bruja, I'll chase after you no matter where you go, and not in a fun way. I don't know what this is or what I feel, but I know that I will never let you go." His hands caress my face moving strands of hair away while he looks into my eyes. His pleading eyes beg me to remove the wall, the mask that I desperately try to hide behind.

His hand gradually moves to my neck, gripping me the way he knows makes me wet. His hot tongue leaves a trail of saliva up my cheek. "You taste like mine," he growls by my ear.

The smog of desire that surrounded us in the elevator comes back thicker, like there's no way I can breathe without him.

With his free hand, he grabs something from his pocket, carefully taking out a thick hunter's knife, he brings it up to my neck just over where his hand holds me in place. He lets me feel the sharp blade against my heated skin. I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation of his hands on my body. The grip around my neck disappears as he grabs the collar of my shirt and cuts right through it.

My nipples harden from the mixtures of the AC and the way he had choked me just enough. Bringing his hands back to my chest, one still holding the blade he removes the shirt off my shoulders allowing it to fall to the floor near where the dress fell.

"I'll have to leave something a little more permanent," he says, licking the spot that he bit.

"I wouldn't let you, Demon." I scoff, although I'm not truly convinced. I think I would like it just as much. He brings the sharp point of my blade down my stomach just light enough to have goosebumps spread through my body. Cutting down one side of my shorts severing the remaining piece of fabric that separates us.

"So, you wouldn't let me brand you? So that everyone who dares come close to you knows that you're mine?" Turning the blade around he grips it as he brings the indented leather handle up between my legs. I'm so wet that the blade glides easily against my pussy, the grooves of the handle adding to the sensation as he slowly penetrates me with it. I grip on to his shoulders while I spread my legs a little more for him, his movements don't slow down as he fucks me with his knife.

"I think you would let me brand you. I think you'd love to be owned. I think you need me just as much as I need you," he whispers. "Come, fucking come on my knife, Mu?eca."

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I thrust my hips, meeting the rhythm he uses to fuck me with the blade. I hold my breath as I reach the peak of my orgasm, the intensity has my knees buckle and on the verge of collapsing.

The clash of the blade falling to the floor ricochets around the dining room, he moves his bloodied hand up my torso, leaving trails of blood all the way down to my ass. He pulls me up enough for me to wrap my legs around him. Walking us over to the bedroom, he slowly lies me on the bed and climbs over me. His hands move from my waist over my head with the open wound on his palm still dripping blood against the white comforter.

"Do you need me to fuck this greedy little cunt, Mu?eca?" he whispers against my mouth, before licking the seam of my parted lips.

"Fuck," I moan as I move my hips against his covered cock; the sensation on my swollen clit has the pleasure coursing through my body in waves. His bloodied hand forcefully covers my parted lips, the metallic taste covers my mouth as he continues grinding against me.

Moving his hand around my lips, he forcefully smears the blood if he were wiping them with a towel and then he moves off my body. I look up at him with hooded eyes as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. He's teasing me with each button, the tease of his tattooed skin has my blood practically boiling with desire to touch him, to trace each line with my tongue as the paintbrush. His broad chest comes into view, the lines of his well-defined abs trailing down to the bulge in his pants have my mouth salivating. His shoulders roll as he removes the shirt allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor before returning to the strip tease he's doing for me.

The sound of his zipper being brought down has me on the verge of getting up to help him, to fall on my knees for him while I watch this man fall apart for me.

"You look like a fucking masterpiece, the most beautiful canvas I've ever covered in red," he says. His pants are finally off, his cock is in his bloodied hands, gripping the base of his demonic cock. Remnants of red stay on his dick as he pumps his fist a few times, and he moves between my parted legs, pushing them a little further apart as he gets in between my legs.

Everything feels different, the air around us isn't just lust and desire but something more, something real. He grips my thighs as he comes closer, each movement has my pussy throbbing in need of his attention. He grips his cock once more until he is inches away from my wet pussy, smearing my arousal around with his tip until he slowly pushes inside me. His body traps me under his while he places his arms besides both sides of my head.

I moan from the intrusion, as he rocks his hips, his movements are slow and methodical with a form of intimacy that's been growing between us. I'm not sure I quite understand it, but the way he's fucking me gently and the way he's watching me has me turning my face away.

"Eyes on me, Mu?eca," he whispers by my ear; his hot breath has chills going down my spine, but I refuse to listen.

His movements stop as he lifts himself further off me. "Mírame Mu?eca." His right-hand wraps around my throat, until I do as he asks.

"Your eyes will stay on me if you want to come." He begins thrusting into me once more, his rhythm is no longer slow but more aggressive like he's trying to make sure I feel every inch of him. We lose each other in this bubble as we gaze at each other's eyes like we were each other's lifeline, like he's trying to tell me something that I'm trying not to read into.

We can't. Right?

He brings his lips to mine; the metallic taste still lingers on my tongue as I open myself up enough to share the taste with him. Our muffled moan escapes our lips in unison as our bodies match each thrust, the pressure on my throat tightens as his hips pick up the pace enough to have my racing heart ready to give out. I dig my nails into his back with every bit of force I can while he continues his assault on my body. I can feel the blood drip from where I've marked him. He chuckles as he grips my throat a little harder. The way my breath is restricted has my orgasm already to the breaking point until I feel as though my soul has lifted off my body as the euphoric explosion releases in my core and my vision blurs into the darkness that haunts me.