Page 35 of Ravaged Hearts

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Page 35 of Ravaged Hearts

He dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes as though considering my request or coming up with a way to let me down gently. In case it was the latter, I said, “Please, Vaughn. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important to me.”

What I didn’t tell Vaughn was that I was afraid. Afraid that something might go wrong when I tried to kill Carlos, or that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Afraid that if I failed my assassination attempt, my father would trap me and hide me from the world, in the same way he’d successfully remained concealed for years. But most of all, I was afraid that I’d never get this opportunity to be with Vaughn again. If this was our one chance to be together without any limitations, to truly give ourselves over to one another, then I wanted us to try.

He prowled toward me with a steely look of determination, and I craned my neck to follow his approach. His rough fingers gently brushed my cheek—the scarred side. It struck me how I hardly thought of my burns when I was with Vaughn. He never made me feel self-conscious about something I considered hideous. It was like he didn’t notice them at all.

Which meant I finally had the thing I’d wished for. Someone who saw beyond my appearance. Someone who didn’t judge me for the horrors my father caused. Someone who knew the real me and didn’t find me lacking.

This man. He acted like I was the one who’d saved him, but the truth was he’d saved me, too.

My throat clogged with emotion as I reconsidered handing myself over to the cartel. Was I doing the right thing? What would happen to Vaughn if I didn’t make it out? He’d only just resurfaced from the murky place he’d been living. If Carlos trapped me, would he plunge back into that darkness?

Or do something reckless to find me.

Yeah. He would. I had to make my plan work.

Vaughn’s thumb continued tracing the apple of my cheek. “Why can’t I say no to you?”

Neither of us was prepared to answer that question, although I suspected what it meant.

Vaughn had fallen for me just as hard and fast as I’d fallen for him. To say it out loud, to make itreal, seemed foolish. Like if we openly admitted what we were feeling, it might jinx what we’d set in motion. Because if it all came unstuck, if I risked everything to end my father’s organization and lost, I also risked suffering unimaginable heartbreak.

No. I wouldn’t think like that tonight. Not when Vaughn had just agreed to give himself to me wholeheartedly. No restraints. No holding back.

I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. “Thank you,” I whispered, and turned to kiss the inside of his tattooed wrist.

As though a switch had flipped, the hand that had been so gentle a moment earlier clasped my jaw, forcing my eyes to Vaughn’s. There was no uncertainty in his expression now. Only the firm, unyielding stare of a man who demanded my compliance in the bedroom. My inner walls clenched because it was a look that told me he was about to ruin me in the best possible way.

“Get on your back, and spread those pretty thighs for me again.”

I did, and gave zero resistance when he climbed onto the bed and pushed my knees wider.

“Just look at you,” he said in a gravelly tone, eyes locked on my pussy as he parted my lips with a delicate stroke of his finger. “Good enough to eat.” He used his hot tongue to trace the same path.

Sweet baby Jesus, this man’s mouth was a gift from God. Orthe devil. Probably the one with horns and a tail, now that I thought about it.

I made an embarrassing mewling sound and clutched Vaughn’s hair. “You already made me come in the bath. You don’t need to do it again.”

“You think this is for you?” He chuckled like a villain plotting chaos and shook his head. “No, Gatita. This is all for me. So quit telling me what to do, and let me feast on you.”

Then he held my thighs pinned open and did exactly that. He wasn’t aiming for a quick home run. Vaughn savored me slowly, lapping up every last drop like he couldn’t get enough.

I fisted his hair, clutching at the strands eagerly as a tingling coil of warmth spread through me.

I’d thought I was tired earlier, but if Vaughn kept indulging me with his raw, unrestrained desire, I wouldn’t sleep for days.

Gently, I ghosted my fingertips across the lines of scar tissue on Vaughn’s shoulders. The muscles there bunched as though struck by a small electric shock, then relaxed when I kneaded the tattooed flesh with slow but firm hands.

I didn’t ask Vaughn if he was okay. I didn’t want to draw attention to our progress at all. What I wanted was for him to focus on this moment and how it made him feel. And I hoped that if this experience was meaningful enough, we’d start to replace his traumatic memories with fresh, beautiful ones so he could associate touch with pleasure instead of pain.

Vaughn glanced up at me, mouth parted, tongue lazily working me, tattooed hands splaying me open, and the only emotion in his dark eyes was hunger.

It didn’t take long before he had me writhing beneath him, then crying out when my release slammed into me. My hips bucked. My thighs clamped around Vaughn’s cheeks. All the while he sucked on my clit as my pussy pulsed.

Panting, I tore Vaughn’s face from between my legs andtilted his lust-hazy expression to meet my own. “I think I’m addicted to you going down on me.”

He licked his glistening lips. Licked clean the remainder ofme. “I think I’m addicted to going down on you.”

“Hmm.” I smiled and dragged my fingers through his inky strands. “That’s quite a conundrum.”




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