​Bound by Blood and Border

CHAPTER SIX

The heat of the afternoon was oppressive, baking the dense jungle canopy until the air felt thick enough to choke on. Every bump in the rugged dirt track jolted through the armored SUV, sending a sharp wave of discomfort through my lower body. I gripped the door handle, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out as the deep soreness in my hips and backside flared with every turn.

Dante sat beside me in the driver's seat, one hand loosely on the steering wheel while the other rested heavily on his lap. He looked completely unbothered by the brutal terrain, his silver-flecked eyes constantly scanning the thick foliage along the border road.

"You're quiet back there, Little Bird," he murmured, his gravelly voice cutting through the hum of the engine. He didn't look at me, but a faint, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Still feeling the weight of last night?"

"I am feeling the weight of your driving," I replied sharply, my voice tight as I adjusted my weight on the leather seat, trying to find a position that didn't sting.

Dante let out a low, rough chuckle, finally cutting his gaze over to me. His eyes dark, sweeping over the simple linen tunic I had chosen from the closet, tracking the flush of color rising on my neck. "I told you to use the oil. My world isn't built for comfort, Valentina. It's built for survival. You'll have to get used to the ache if you're going to stay by my side."

"I am only by your side because of a piece of paper," I whispered, looking out the window at the endless wall of green. "Once this year is over, I am going back to my life."

The smirk instantly vanished from Dante's face, replaced by a cold, unyielding intensity that made the air in the vehicle turn to ice. He slammed his foot on the brake, bringing the massive SUV to a sudden, jarring halt in the middle of the empty jungle road. The sudden movement made me gasp, the sharp ache in my body flaring violently.

Before I could protest, Dante unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned across the center console, his massive frame completely towering over me. He grabbed my chin in an iron grip, his thumb pressing firmly against my jaw, forcing me to look into the fierce fire of his eyes.

"Let's get one thing straight, Little Saint," he growled softly, his breath hot against my lips, sending a wicked, forbidden shiver straight down my spine. "You signed that contract to save your life, but you gave it to me the moment you let me touch you. There is no going back to that chapel. There is no going back to a life of quiet prayers."

"Dante—"

"You are my wife now," he interrupted, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive purr that left me utterly breathless. He leaned in closer, his chest crushing against mine, his gaze dropping to my parted lips with a hunger that was completely lawless. "The cartel wants you dead, and I'm the only thing standing between you and a shallow grave in this jungle. You belong to the monster now. Remember that the next time you think about running."

He didn't give me a chance to answer. His mouth crashed onto mine in a devastating, breathless kiss that tasted of heat and absolute dominance. His hand slid from my chin down to my throat, his fingers digging into my skin with a heavy, worshipful intensity that completely shattered my remaining resolve. I whimpered into his mouth, my hands instinctively reaching up to grip his broad shoulders, completely losing myself in his sinful touch once again.

When he finally pulled away, his breathing was ragged, his eyes burning with a primal satisfaction. He let go of my throat, tracing his thumb over my swollen bottom lip one last time before settling back into his seat.

He shifted the SUV back into drive, a dangerous, flirty smile returning to his face as if he hadn't just upended my entire world. "Now, hold on tight, wifey. The border checkpoint is just ahead, and things are about to get loud."