33. Addicted to the enemy | 18+

33. Addicted to the enemy | 18+
(This chapter contains mature content)

He’s the calm in my storm, the fire in my blood—my greatest danger and yet, the only place I feel safe.

GABRIELLA

I
stepped back slowly, swaying my hips deliberately, knowing his gaze was burning into every inch of me. His eyes followed my every move, darkening with barely restrained hunger. But he didn’t move. He stood rooted in place, arms crossed, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. He wanted to see how far I’d go—to see exactly what I was capable of.

Challenge accepted.

Without a word, I retreated until I was standing beneath the shower. I reached up and turned the knob. Instantly, cold water cascaded down my body, making me gasp as the shock ran down my spine. My sleek black dress clung to my curves, the fabric turning sheer against my skin. It molded to me like a second skin—revealing far more than it concealed.

I saw the moment the fire in his eyes turned into something feral.

Tilting my head, I let the water pour down my hair, down my neck, over the swell of my breasts. I moved slowly—sensually—sliding my hands down my hips, rolling them in a silent dance of seduction. My heart pounded, but it wasn’t from fear. No, this was bold. This was me in control.

I lifted one hand and curled my index finger, beckoning him to come to me. He didn’t move at first—he simply arched a brow, amusement flickering in his expression as if daring me to push him further.

So I did.

I slid my hand behind me and slowly pulled the zipper down. The soaked fabric slid off my shoulders and dropped to the floor with a soft splash. I kicked it aside with a single flick of my foot. Now I stood in nothing but a black lace bra and a matching thong, soaked and shimmering under the water’s flow.

That did it.

He moved—finally. Slow, deliberate steps, like a predator savoring the chase even though he already knew he’d caught his prey. By the time he was just inches away, the steam between us was nothing compared to the fire in our eyes.

Without waiting, I reached for him, fisting the front of his shirt and pulling him into me. My mouth crashed against his, desperate and commanding. He responded instantly, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other tangling in my wet hair as he kissed me back with a possessiveness that made me tremble.

The kiss was molten. Open-mouthed, wild, full of need. Water poured over us, drenching our clothes and washing away every restraint we had left. His lips claimed mine with punishing passion, tasting, teasing, devouring. He pressed me into the cold tiles, and I arched into him, shameless and breathless.

His mouth moved to my neck, to my collarbone, trailing hot kisses that made me ache everywhere. I gasped, fingers digging into his back, wanting more—needing more.

In that moment, beneath the cascade of water and wrapped in his arms, nothing else mattered. Not the secrets. Not the lies. Just this: the fire, the tension, the dangerous dance we couldn’t stop dancing.

My fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one with slow precision. He was still breathless from our kiss, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The shirt clung wetly to his skin, but I didn’t hesitate—I slipped it off his shoulders and let it fall with a soft splash onto the floor.

His muscles rippled, glistening under the last drips of the shower as he reached behind me and shut off the water. The sudden silence felt deafening, broken only by the sound of our breathing—shallow, heated, loaded with tension.

My wet hair clung to my face, and without a word, his hand came up—gentle, reverent. He tucked the strands back behind my ears, his fingers grazing my cheek, and in that small gesture, I felt the weight of everything we weren’t saying.

I let my hands explore him, slowly dragging down the planes of his chest, over every ridge of his sculpted abdomen. My fingertips lingered above his heart, where I leaned in and pressed a kiss against his burning skin.

His response was immediate—a low, guttural growl that rumbled from deep in his chest. It made my core tighten with need.

I trailed kisses downward, my lips brushing every inch of his skin as I sank to my knees before him. The tiles were cold beneath me, but I barely noticed. All I felt was him—his heat, his presence, his gaze locked on mine.

He looked down at me, eyes blazing with something primal, something dangerous. His hand reached down, fingers curling beneath my chin. He tilted my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes, and then he leaned forward—his mouth brushing mine in a kiss that was slow, possessive, unrelenting.

And in that moment, even on my knees, I didn’t feel small. I didn’t feel powerless.

No—on my knees, I felt in control.

Because he may have been the king of an empire.

But right now, I was the only one who had him undone.

I looked up at him, breath catching as I met his eyes. They were darker now—heavy with desire, and something deeper, something raw. He stared down at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. Like I wasn’t just a woman on her knees—I was
his
woman.

For a brief second, guilt flickered in my chest. The truth of who we were, the weight of the lies between us, hovered at the edges of my mind. But I pushed it away. Not now. Not in this moment. Right now, I didn’t want to think about bloodlines, cartels, betrayal, or revenge. I only wanted to feel.

In this space, he wasn’t the heir to the Sinaloa cartel, and I wasn’t the heiress of Medellín.

We were just two people—devoured by want, lost in our hunger for one another.

With a breathless determination, I reached out to the waistband of his jeans, my fingers trembling slightly as I moved to unbutton them. But before I could go any further, his hand shot out—firm, steady—grasping mine.

The other hand lifted my chin with careful pressure, guiding my eyes back to his.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with restraint.

There was something reverent in the way he looked at me, as if he needed my answer more than anything else in the world.

“Yes,” I whispered. Confident. Clear. Unshaken.

His grip loosened, and with a soft hum of approval, he released my hand.

I undid the button slowly, deliberately, watching his jaw tense as I slid the zipper down. I pushed the jeans over his hips, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, never breaking eye contact.

I bit my lip at the sight of him—hard, ready, straining against the last piece of fabric that separated us.

And without hesitation, he removed the final barrier between us, baring himself completely.

The crown of his thick and proud erection stood out of its confines and my hand automatically reached out to touch him, hold him.

"Stop" he mumbled.

My fingers trembled stopping midway to him and i almost cries in frustration. "Tell me what do you want?" He asked.

I looked up at him with a question in my eyes. I gulped nervously. At that moment i knew that he wasn't going to make ot easy for me but I am not ready to back off. I licked my lips nervously

"I want to suck you. Please let me" i said and then without a second thought i hold his hard length and without wasting a second more, I enveloped the head of hid hard cock in my mouth.

His fists tightened painfully in my hair, tugging on my head and he groaned as i took more of his length "you love this dont you?" He growled.

I closed my eyes, savoring the weight of him against my lips—the intimacy, the power exchange, the unspoken trust that crackled like lightning between us.

But just as the moment deepened, he withdrew.

I opened my eyes, breathless, only to see him take a single step back—his gaze locked on mine with a hunger that threatened to consume us both. Without a word, he leaned down, his hands finding the small of my back. His fingers brushed my damp skin, igniting a shiver as he slid them under the delicate strap of my bra.

The clasp gave way with a soft snap, and my breath hitched.

Then he peeled the garment away, his touch reverent, as if unwrapping something sacred.

“It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re not,” he murmured, his voice low, threaded with a smirk and desire so palpable I felt it ripple over my skin.

He wasn’t just undressing me—he was unraveling me, piece by piece, until nothing stood between us.

Without needing more invitation, I slid my thumbs beneath the band of my black lace thong and let it fall, slow and deliberate. The moment it hit the tiled floor, his gaze followed it, darkening like a storm cloud, his chest rising with sharp, shallow breaths.

Every inch I revealed was a silent surrender—and yet, I had never felt more powerful.

He looked at me like I was fire—dangerous, mesmerizing, and impossible to resist.

"You know what I want right now?" he growled, his voice rough and low as his fingers gently caressed my cheek, in contrast to the rawness of his words. "To fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

My lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. "Who’s stopping you?"

He paused—his eyes searching mine, not just with desire, but something deeper. Vulnerability, restraint, a need for more than just dominance.

"So," he said quietly, the edge of sincerity softening his voice, "will you let me?"

For a man like Alejandro—feared, powerful, untouchable—to ask instead of take, it said more than any tender confession ever could. It wasn’t weakness; it was respect. And something about that made my chest flutter in ways I wasn’t ready to admit.

I nodded slowly, my voice barely a whisper. "Yes."

Without saying anything further i wrapped my lips around his cock as i sucked him in. I forgot everything just the need to please him and worship him. The man who was feared by everyone. He didn't thrust he was letting me adjust to him.

I sucked him while he stood there caressing my cheekd with his knuckles. But then he tightened his grip on my hair and slowly thrust, not deep enough to hurt me. I sucked him, wrapping my lips tight around him to invite him deeper. But when it didn't result in what i wanted i groaned in frustration and with my hand at the back of his thighs. I pushed him deeper into my mouth.

The weight of his heavy cock on my yongue was a welcomr intrusion and the taste of him made my thighs clench. When i lifted my head to take more of his cock he groaned and then without any resistant he slammed into me. Down my mouth hitting the back of my throat making me gag.

I loved it. The control and dominamce that he exterted on me. I let my hands drop. He slid deeper lodged all the way inside my throat, making me choke on him. But he didn't retreat just looked at me with those dark eyes as tears rolled down my eyes.

Then he slid out resting on my tongue as i breathed heavily trying to swallow around him "should I continue?" He asked hisboice rough.

"If you dare to stop I will kill you" i said he chuckled and then he fuck my mouth. I started to thrust his cock. I gagged and choked but he didn't stopped. Tears rolled down my eyes continuously. But i didn't want him to stop. I fucking loved the way he used me.

It was different from the time i pleasure him in his private jet. This felt different and good and kicked up my own arousal as i looked up at him, his face tense, jaw tight as he used me for his pleasure.

He pulled out a thin thread of saliva and his cum stretched from my tongue to the head of his cock.

"Cum in my mouth" i said. He shook his head

"no" he muttered.

He leaned in, eyes locked with mine, and without a word, scooped me effortlessly into his arms. My breath caught in my throat as he carried me like I weighed nothing, his strength making me feel small and cherished all at once.

With one hand, he turned on the tap, letting the cold water fill the tub. The sound of rushing water echoed in the tiled bathroom, a stark contrast to the silence pulsing between us—thick with heat, with anticipation, with unspoken desires.

Once the tub was filled, he stepped in carefully, still holding me close against his chest. The chill of the water bit at my skin, but his warmth wrapped around me like a blanket. He sank into the tub, settling with me cradled in his lap, his arms still around me, possessive and protective.

“I promised you a shower together,” he murmured near my ear, his voice deep and laced with something sinful. “But I figured this counts.”

His words made my breath hitch, my pulse quicken. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his damp hair. Slowly, I draped one leg over his waist, straddling him, feeling every hard inch of him beneath the water.

Even submerged in icy water, I burned for him. My skin tingled with need, my heart racing. It wasn’t just lust—it was something darker, deeper. A hunger I couldn’t name, but couldn’t resist.

He foddled with my breasts, twisting and teasing my nipples. Grabbing one and he sucked into his mouth as I moaned as I arched my back into him.

He  looked at me and I tilted my face up. I presented my lips to him and he took the hint. Kissing me softly and slowly.

"I need you....." I whispered

"You have me" he whispered against my lips as he lifted me up and slowly slide his cock. I swallowed as he filled me up. His forehead came to rest on mine. He was so tender as he started to set a rhythm. He made love to me slowly and gently.

My legs tighten around him as hit the perfect spot making me moan in pleasure. He continues thrust into making love to me. My mouth opens like a fish trying to breath. This felt so good and perfect. I closed my eyes at that moment I forget everything the fact that I was having sex with my enemy. I didn't care about anything at that moment.

He grunted as he thrusts deeper. The speed of his thrusts increases but I wanted more. I kissed him hard as I said "fuck me please "

I didn’t got a chance to speak after that as he thrust become rougher and faster. He buried his face in my neck sucking and biting the my sensitive skin. As I scratched his back. My nails digging on his back as thrust deep inside me.

I heard him growl like a animal as he slammed into me like an animal making me moan and clench his biceps in pleasure. After few hard thrust i came. After few jerks inside me and a moment later his warm cum filled my insides.

My breath came in shallow waves, my mind dazed, my body spent. He rested his forehead against mine, grounding me in the moment, as if silently memorizing everything—the heat, the closeness, the aftermath of something that felt more than just physical.

I closed my eyes, letting the silence wash over me. I felt his breath against my lips, soft and steady, before he slowly pulled away. The moment he slipped out of me, I whimpered involuntarily, already missing the warmth, the connection. He chuckled softly, brushing a kiss against my temple.

The bathwater had cooled again. Without a word, he reached behind us and drained the tub, filling it once more—clean, warm water surrounding us like a soft cocoon. I was barely aware as he lathered my skin with gentle strokes, his hands slow, careful, worshipful. I was too exhausted to speak, too overwhelmed to think. Everything felt surreal—like I had stepped out of my body, floating in a dream crafted by his touch.

Once he was done, he stood and carried me out, water cascading down both of us in rivulets. He placed me gently on the marble counter, the chill of it making me shiver. I watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he fetched a towel and returned to me, drying every inch of my body with a reverence that made my chest ache.

“I feel like a spoiled princess,” I whispered, the words slipping out without thought.

“You are my spoiled princess,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my lips. The tenderness in his voice made something tighten in my chest.

He wrapped me in a fresh towel and another around his waist, then picked me up again as if I weighed nothing, carrying me to the bedroom. He laid me down on the soft sheets with a gentleness that made me melt further into the mattress.

“I’ll get something for you to wear,” he said, brushing his fingers over my cheek before disappearing from the room.

When he returned, he was dressed in soft grey track pants and a fitted tee, carrying one of his own T-shirts for me. It looked oversized and worn, the kind of shirt that held comfort and memories. He gently unwrapped the towel from my body and slipped the shirt over my head. It hung on me like a dress, and I felt small… cared for.

He dried my hair with the towel, slow and patient, then kissed my forehead again. “Let’s sleep,” he whispered, tucking me into the pillows and switching off the lights.

He joined me in bed, pulling me into his arms. I felt the steady beat of his heart against my cheek, his warmth wrapping around me like a blanket.

“Take this off,” I mumbled, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt.

He raised a brow in the dark. “Why?”

“Please…” I whined, half asleep, needing nothing more than his skin against mine.

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest, and pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my cheek to his bare chest. This—his warmth, his heartbeat, the rise and fall of his breath—this was my new addiction. A dangerous kind of comfort I never knew I craved.

I closed my eyes, letting the weight of the day melt away. Wrapped in his arms, the world faded. The chaos, the lies, the legacy we carried—none of it mattered here. Not in this moment. Not with him.