The power felt incredible.
It wasn’t long before he was coming and I made sure to take in every single detail. The way his brows scrunched up, his hair stuck to his sweaty face, and how he closed his eyes, his back arching. His jaw went rigid—every part of him went stiff—right before the violent release that had him groaning loudly and gasping for breath.
He collapsed on top of me, careful not to put his full weight on my body. His cock was still inside and I could feel the wetness start to trickle out of my legs. While he slowly regained his breathing, he propped himself on his elbows on either side of my shoulders and coaxed my hair behind my ears.
Javier was beautiful when he’d just come, when he was still inside me, softening. There was a gentleness to his eyes, an easiness to his smile. This was what I’d wanted to see all this time, just a glimpse of the boy behind the man, and the man behind the monster. He stared at me so tenderly and openly that I knew he had a soul. It didn’t mean it wasn’t stained and filthy, but it was there.
“So?” he asked, running his thumb over my lips. I could smell myself on his fingers. It was the smell of us together, good and bad, captive and captor.
I cleared my throat. “So,” I repeated, finding my voice. My world was still a million spinning colors because of that orgasm.
“So I’m going to pick you up and bring you to my bed,” he said simply. “And we’re going to do that all over again.”
I blinked. “Already?”
His mouth quirked up. “I warned you.”
That was true. Still, I thought I’d be heading back to my room to be alone again. Even though that’s not what I wanted last night, it was something I needed now. I needed time to separate myself from my hormones and reflect on what had happened with some distance and space. I needed to think about the power I earned and all the ways I needed to keep it, especially now that I knew my sex was his weakness.
But as I let him scoop me up into his arms and carry me, while he was naked, down the hall and into his bedroom, I realized he was my weakness as well.
I had the feeling that we weren’t through with ruining each other.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Javier
I woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. I was hung over, something that didn’t plague me very often. I rarely got drunk—you couldn’t in this business, not when you were at the top.
But yesterday I had been a different man. I had become a man enslaved to shame. Not for what I did to Franco. I felt zero revulsion or regret over torturing that man. Even when he begged me to stop and I took out my dick and pissed on his gaping wounds, I didn’t feel bad about that in the slightest.
No, my shame was because of Luisa, because I had failed to protect her and because I had broken my promise. I never made them in vain. I had meant what I said. As strong as she was, I knew there was a fragile casing underneath that could crack under the worst circumstances. All this time I wanted to break her, and the only way that I could have was by doing something I would have never made myself do.
I guess that said something about me, that I had a limit to my ruthlessness. But if I didn’t have my own morals and my own code, who would? Someone out there had to lead by example.
I rolled my head over and took in the sight of Luisa sleeping beside me, pretty much hanging off the edge of the bed, her back to me. She was wearing one of my dress shirts, oversized on her petite frame, but I couldn’t recall why. Perhaps because it looked fucking hot.
She seemed to be in a deep sleep, her sides rising and falling, her hair spilled around her on the pillowcase. Part of me yearned to reach out and feel it between my fingers, to wake her up by kissing her shoulder. But I had to keep those urges to myself. I was surprised I even let her sleep in my bed and hadn’t sent her back to her room.
Memories of fucking her on the desk were followed by several rounds in the bed. That’s why I didn’t send her away.
In all reality, I made a mistake. A big one. I shouldn’t have succumbed to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her, shouldn’t have fucked her. I knew it was a dangerous road to go on for me, to allow myself to be intimate with her, to be inside her. Watching her come while I was buried deep in her pussy was like a religious experience and it flamed my devotion. It spurred an addiction and made me insatiable for the next hit. It was in my nature to crave sex like I craved water, and I knew too well how cravings could derail even the most solid plans.
I exhaled through my nose, trying to focus on said plan instead of her. There was nothing wrong with a man having sex with a woman at his disposal, provided he would still be able to get rid of her at the end. It was expected of me, in fact, to be using Luisa every way I could. Most captives were treated far worse. The complication came at the end of the week, when she would be gone, one way or another.
But I just couldn’t make myself think about that, about the hard choices that lay ahead. I had to believe I would do the best thing for me and my cartel. I would make the right choice, as ruthless as it would be. I had to trust that about myself and then let it go. The dilemma would be dealt with then and only then. Until her days were up and Salvador made his call, I was going to pretend that Luisa was here under different circumstances.
I was going to make the best of her.
Carefully, I eased myself out of bed, not wanting to wake her, and made my way to the bathroom. I flicked on the lights and briefly admired my naked reflection in the mirror. Though I boxed in order to beat any opponent—I’d lost a fight once and never intended that to happen again—I also did it to have my body look as good as possible. Judging from the hungry look in Luisa’s eyes last night, it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
I brushed my teeth, gargled mouthwash, and decided to run a bath and put on the Jacuzzi jets. My limbs were quite sore, not just from the sex but from the things I did to Franco. Rubbing a clit to completion and sawing off someone’s foot seemed to use all the same muscles.
It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the bathroom door.
“Yes?” I called out, craning my head to see.
The door opened and Luisa poked her head in. Once she spotted me in the bath, she looked flushed but she didn’t leave. “Sorry,” she said.
I smiled at her bashfulness. “Don’t be sorry.” I patted the rim of the tub. “Come over here.”
She scurried across the tiles, my linen shirt billowing around her, and planted her perky bum beside me. She looked down into the tub and quickly looked away, a small smile on her lips. For obvious reasons—mainly the sight of her—I was already erect, the tip of my dick poking out of the moving water.