Bred by the Cartel Don While My Husband Watches

The Promised Bride

The Vargas family dining room looked like a church for degenerates, all flickering candlelight and enough silverware to make a thief cream his pants. Anna Luisa Ruiz sat ramrod straight in her chair, her black hair draped over one shoulder like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial. Her red dress was painted on, squeezing her tits together and showing off the kind of hips that made men forget their wives. At twenty-six, Anna was nobody’s blushing virgin, but tonight every eye in the room was crawling over her body, and she could feel it like a greasy hand on her skin.

Mateo Vargas sat to her left, fidgeting like he needed to piss, his skinny fingers twitching on his wine glass. Twenty-four, technically a man, but with the kind of face you’d forget before dessert. His suit hung on his bony frame like he’d stolen it from a mannequin. He kept sneaking looks at Anna, flashing weak little smiles that screamed virgin. Anna felt absolutely nothing for him. Not even a flicker of interest. Just the dull ache of disappointment, like biting into a chocolate and finding it’s empty.

At the head of the table sat the man who set her blood on fire.

Don Rafael Vargas lounged at the head of the table like he owned the world and was bored of it. Pushing fifty, built like a brick shithouse, his black shirt open enough to show off chest hair and a neck thick enough to snap a bat. Silver streaked his hair, making him look like a wolf who’d eaten too many sheep. His eyes were dark and hungry, locked on Anna since she walked in, and every time he looked at her, she felt her cunt clench like she was about to get caught doing something filthy.

Cartel talk and family alliances buzzed around the table, but Anna couldn’t care less. She was too busy feeling Rafael’s eyes undressing her, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass like he was thinking about her nipples. When he handed her the wine, his knuckles grazed her wrist—no accident, just a tease. The jolt of heat between her legs was so sharp she had to squeeze her thighs together to keep from dripping onto the chair.

Mateo cleared his throat. “Anna, would you like more salad?”

She turned to him with a polite smile that felt brittle on her lips. “No, thank you, Mateo.”

Rafael’s low chuckle rolled across the table. “Let the woman eat what she wants, son. She’s not here to be managed like one of your spreadsheets.”

Mateo turned red and stared at his plate like it might save him. Anna’s heart thudded. Rafael’s easy command made her pussy throb. She pictured him telling her to get on her knees and open wide, his voice making her mouth water for cock.

Dinner ended with bitter coffee and cigars on the terrace. Mateo stuck to Anna’s side like a lost dog, while Rafael leaned on the stone railing, cigar smoke curling from his fist, looking out into the dark like he was hunting something.

Anna made her decision.

She touched Mateo’s arm lightly. “I’d like a moment alone with your father. To discuss… the terms of our arrangement.”

Mateo blinked, confused but obedient. “Of course. I’ll wait inside.”

Mateo vanished inside. Anna marched straight to Rafael, heels clicking on the stone. She stopped so close she could smell his cologne—spice, leather, and pure testosterone—wrapping around her like a hand on her throat.

Rafael didn’t turn. He simply exhaled smoke and spoke in that deep, gravel-rough voice. “You’re a brave one, Anna Luisa. Most women in your position keep their eyes on the son.”

"I’m not most women." She moved in until her tits pressed against his arm. "And I don’t want the boy."

Rafael finally looked at her. His eyes moved slowly down her body, lingering on the way her nipples had stiffened against the thin fabric. “Careful. Words like that can start wars.”

"I’m afraid of ending up in bed with a clueless boy who’d probably cum in his pants before he even touched me."

Rafael’s hand shot out and caught her chin, tilting her face up. His grip was firm, controlling. “And you think I do?”

“I know you do.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “I felt it the moment you looked at me. You want to ruin me for anyone else. Especially him.”

A muscle ticked in Rafael’s jaw. His thumb stroked her lower lip, parting it slightly. “You’re promised to my son. The alliance—”

"Fuck the alliance," she said, grinding her tits into his chest. She could feel his cock getting hard against her stomach. "I’ll marry Mateo if that’s what you want. But every night after, I want you to fuck me. I want your hands all over me. I want to scream your name so loud your pathetic son hears me getting ruined in the next room."

Rafael’s eyes went black with hunger. He grabbed her throat, slid his hand down, and squeezed her tit hard enough to make her gasp. His thumb flicked her nipple through the dress, and Anna moaned, loud and desperate, not caring who heard.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”

"I’m not playing." She ground her hips against his cock. "I’m soaked just standing here. Go ahead, check."

She grabbed his hand and shoved it up her dress, right between her thighs. Rafael’s fingers found her drenched panties and yanked them aside. Two thick fingers shoved into her cunt, slick and eager, burying themselves to the knuckle.

Anna’s head fell back on a broken moan. “God—yes…”

Rafael curled his fingers, rubbing her g-spot while his palm mashed her clit. "Tight. Greedy. Already soaking for a man who could be your father."

"Harder," she begged, grinding on his hand. "Show me what that useless boy could never do."

He shoved a third finger in, stretching her wide, fucking her slow and rough while he breathed in her ear. "If I fuck you, I won’t be gentle. I’ll wreck this pussy. You’ll feel me every time you sit next to my son at breakfast, leaking down your thighs."

Anna’s cunt squeezed his fingers. She was already about to cum, humiliated by how fast she was falling apart from just his voice and his rough hands. "Do it. Ruin me. Please—"

The French doors creaked open.

Mateo stood frozen, eyes bugging out as he saw his fiancée with her dress hiked up, his father’s hand buried in her cunt, her face twisted in shameless pleasure.

Rafael didn’t stop. He simply looked over at his son while continuing to pump his fingers into Anna’s soaked cunt.

“Close the door, Mateo,” he said calmly. “Your bride and I are still negotiating.”

Mateo’s mouth flapped uselessly. His face went red, but he stepped inside and shut the doors. He just stood there, hands limp, watching his father fingerfuck his fiancée to the brink.

“Look at him,” Rafael ordered softly, curling his fingers harder. “Look at your future husband while I make you cum.”

Anna stared right at Mateo’s stunned face. The shame in his eyes made her cum even harder. She screamed, thighs shaking, cunt clenching and squirting around Rafael’s fingers. Her juices dripped down his wrist as she bucked helplessly.

When the spasms finally eased, Rafael withdrew his hand, brought his glistening fingers to Anna’s mouth, and pushed them between her lips.

“Clean them,” he said.

She did, sucking greedily, tasting herself while staring straight at Mateo.

Rafael yanked his fingers out with a wet pop and wiped them off on Mateo’s suit, leaving a sticky smear right over his heart.

“Drive us to the villa tonight,” he told his son. “Your bride needs to be properly broken in before the wedding. You’ll wait in the car until we’re finished.”

Mateo’s voice came out hoarse. “Father… she’s… she’s supposed to be mine.”

Rafael smiled, slow and predatory, as he pulled Anna against his side, one big hand possessively cupping her ass.

“She’ll wear your ring, son. But every inch of this body belongs to me now.” He looked down at Anna, eyes burning. “Say it.”

Anna licked her swollen lips and smiled at Mateo with pure, wicked satisfaction.

“I belong to your father, Mateo. And after tonight… you’re going to watch him prove it.”

Rafael’s hand tightened on her ass as he guided her toward the doors.

“Bring the car around. And try not to cry on the drive. Your tears will only make me fuck her harder.”

Mateo stood there, frozen, his pants tented with a pathetic, shameful hard-on, before he finally shuffled off to do what he was told.

Anna leaned into Rafael’s solid warmth, already aching for more.

The night had only just begun.