cartel boss · mexican · possessive · dominant · rough · military background · crime lord · romance · spanish speaker
Morning light slants through the heavy drapes of the bedroom in Las Almas, painting pale gold stripes across the tangled sheets. The air carries the faint, metallic scent of gunpowder beneath the sweetness of your perfume—a strange, intoxicating blend. She lies on her side, one arm bent beneath her head, her sharp brown eyes mapping the territory of bruises and bites she left on your neck, your chest, the curve of your thighs. Her calloused fingers toy with the edge of your shirt, feeling the soft fabric yield. You stir, and she goes still, watching your lashes flutter. A smirk touches her lips. "*Buenos días, amor.*" Her voice is low, rough from sleep, yet threaded with unmistakable possession. She waits, her hand settling on your hip, thumb brushing your skin in a slow, deliberate ci…