My cheeks flamed and I chastised myself for feeling so bashful.

His face lowered even further and my body stiffened in response.

“I want to feel your clit throb between my lips,” he whispered, his breath sending electricity through my thighs. When I didn’t say anything—I couldn’t, I was frozen in shock—he lifted his head from between my legs and gave me a curious glance. “You’ve never had an orgasm before, have you?”

I shook my head.

He grinned with easy carnality. “Do not worry. I’m very good at giving girls an orgasm for the first time. And for every time after that.”

Then he placed his mouth on me, and a million volts of electricity ran through me, making me flinch. The feeling slowly melted away though as the wet warmth of his mouth spread all over, and I found myself relaxing into the most foreign sensation that had ever touched my body. His tongue slowly lapped up and down my slit before concentrating on my clit in slow, easy circles. I knew how my body worked, I just never touched myself before, never realized the pleasure that could be had.

I started thinking I was an idiot for not doing so all this time, but soon all thought was being sucked out of me and into his mouth. I was only sensation, this beautiful feeling that his lips were bringing me. I felt my whole body both relax and tense, and I began to raise my hips into his face, craving deeper contact when his tongue became whisper light.

“That’s my queen,” he said into me, and the vibrations caused me to squirm. “Your pussy tastes seductive, more delicious than milk and honey. I should drink you with my tea in the mornings.”

I moaned, not even blushing this time. I just wanted him, needed him, to continue. I found myself reaching for his hair, burying my fingers into his smooth strands and gripping them. I pulled his face further into me and his tongue started to fuck me, entering in and out.

Now I was bucking my hips, craving him, wanting more.

“You’re so wet, I’m drowning in you.” He groaned. One of his hands left my thighs and he pulled back slightly. Suddenly he put one of his fingers inside me and I found myself trying to clench around it. “You want so much, it’s beautiful.”

“Just keep going,” I said breathlessly, my back arching, my fingers wrapping tighter into his thick hair.

“I’ll keep going until you are coming.”

“How will I know?”

“Well,” he said slowly, and though my head was rolled to the side and I couldn’t see him, I knew he was grinning. “It will feel like this.”

His tongue started flicking my clit harder just as his finger began to thrust and curl inside of me, pressing against my wall repeatedly. The pressure in my core began to build rapidly, my limbs stiffening, my breath escaping me. I held on to his hair as tight as I could while I felt like my whole body was on pause, that moment before falling when you’re in mid-air, when all time stands still, when breath and heartbeat and bloodflow all stops.

It was the most beautifully exquisite torture.

Then everything broke loose. My body became a wave of fire, of pulsating light, of air and heat and explosions that all went off at the same time. I was completely unaware of any sounds I was making—I think I was screaming—and I hadn’t realized I was yanking on Javier’s hair so hard that I lifted his head right off me.

I lay there, writhing, moaning. It was like being Tasered but only with pleasure. Then, as my eyes stopped rolling back into my head, as I began to catch my breath, I was hit with a second wave.

Only this one was pure emotion. I felt like my heart was light and fluttery, and there was pain and sadness and joy and regret and anger, and every single buried feeling being unearthed. I was beside myself, unsure of how to process what had just happened to my body and what happened to my soul.

And Javier, this horrible man, this narco, my captor, he was right there on the bed beside me, wiping his mouth and gazing at me before tucking my hair behind my ear. I could only stare at him in pure bewilderment, my eyes wide, my mouth open, trying to breathe, to remember who I was and what I was to him.

But I could barely remember any of that. I was feeling a pull to him stronger than anything before. This man was capable of such cruelty and violence, yet he had pleasured me, giving me something I’d never had. Well, the sated look in his hooded eyes told me that he found it nearly as pleasurable himself.

He rested his hand on my cheek, soothingly. “You better get some rest,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

And then more of the real world, of my life, came back, pecking away at the golden wave I was still riding, making my heart slow.

The thing, the crazy thing, was that as much as I didn’t want tomorrow to come, I also didn’t want him to leave. I wanted him to stay with me. At least until I fell asleep. I needed him, the little comfort he could give me on my last night.

He was staring at me expectedly, like he wanted me to ask him. Or he wanted to ask himself. Maybe we could do something else to pass the time. Maybe I could do something for him. Maybe it wasn’t time to say goodnight.

But then he sat up, perched on the end of the bed, and smoothed down his hair. There was another moment where he licked his lips, his eyes flickering, his mind caught in some internal dialogue.

I almost said something. I opened my mouth and almost asked him to stay, as foolish as it was.

He got up and picked up the blade from the other side of the bed, sliding it into his boot.

“Goodnight Luisa,” he said, and I knew the moment was over.

I couldn’t find the words to say goodnight to him. He gave me a quick, almost grave smile, then left the room, the lock turning loudly behind him.

It was the loneliest sound.

I lay there naked, remembering the feeling I just had moments ago, a feeling I would never get back.

I let a tear fall, my emotions still running rampant in me, and then gratefully drifted off to sleep before the thoughts of his touch could turn into thoughts of his bullets.

Javier

I had woken up with the taste of her pussy on my lips. Proof that it hadn’t been a dream.

Men who think they have to rape and violate in order to assert their power and control have no idea what they’re missing. Real power comes in giving a woman pleasure. Real control is knowing you’ve taken that woman to another place, another plane of existence, and you’re the only one who holds the key. I gave Luisa what she wanted, what she needed, and she would never be the same again.

In some ways, the same went for me.

But today of all days was not the time to dwell on such accomplishments. Today I had to separate my impulses toward Luisa and focus on the big picture, the task at hand.

My empire had so much to gain, so much to lose, and it all rested on one man’s feelings toward a beautiful little woman, lying in bed in the room above me. I knew now that Salvador didn’t love her—he wouldn’t have abused her like he did, she wouldn’t have hated him so much, and he wouldn’t have let this charade go on for so long. But pride was easily confused with love and I knew how much of that he had. Too much self-love could be utterly destructive. I needed to play that card.

“Javier?” The Doctor asked.

I looked over at him, remembering what was going on. I was sitting down in the shitty little office, The Doctor in the seat across from me, Este and Juanito who had just returned from their travels, standing by the door. Franco was outside in the hall. By Luisa’s room I had more guards than normal, just in case she panicked during these final hours.

On the desk was the old-fashioned flip cell phone Salvador would be calling. It couldn’t be traced, but we would still destroy it after anyway.