The sick part of me likes that. She likes getting used by him. Getting mouth fucked by him. And she’s the only one in charge of my faculties at the moment.
I reach up and touch Javi’s thighs. The muscles twitch beneath my fingers. He likes my hands on him. I wonder if he’s ever let anyone touch him this way.
His thrusts grow frantic.
I am sloppy. There is nothing pretty about me right now. My mascara drips down my cheeks, joining the dribble from my mouth. Javi likes it. He likes me dirty like this.
I like me dirty like this too.
Unpretty.
His cock sinks into the back of my throat, and he comes with a violent shudder. I cough and swallow his release, my throat bobbing around him.
He pets my cheek and continues to rock forward, even as his cock softens in my mouth. I keep nursing him until he pulls away and zips himself up.
He lifts me into his arms, still naked, and carries me to the bed.
I am weak.
Used.
Confused.
I don’t want him to leave. But that’s exactly what he does.
Chapter Eighteen
She is soft this morning. Everything about her is soft. Relaxed. Her eyes are different today, lost in the pages of the book she reads.
She is captivated. But peaceful too.
She did not hear me come in. I like to watch her this way. It is different from the camera. I like to be close to her. In the same room where I can smell her. The room where I have tasted her. The room where I have held her captive for so long.
I like the idea of keeping her in this room forever. Where she is safe. Where she is most lovely and delicate. But my Bella is not a rose, and she cannot grow in this room.
Nothing else can grow in this room.
Surrounded by such beauty, this room has opened her eyes to the monster that I am. It has served its purpose. And now it is time to move forward with my plan.
She looks up, startled, and her fingers curl around the book. Her knuckles pale and rigid, her lips scarlet red.
"Javi?"
I don't have her breakfast, and she wonders what this could mean for her. What fresh new hell I might possibly have planned. My Bella is so smart.
"Come, my sweet."
She doesn't move.
"What's going on?"
"I want to show you something."
She does not give in easily. It happens gradually. Inch by inch, second by second. Until she finally sets her book aside and rises to her feet.
She is in a pretty dress today. Pale white and lace.And I wonder if she wore it for me. And then I wonder if I have forgotten who I am.
She steps beside me, so small and fragile. I worry that I will break her when I see her this way. When I see the size of her next to me. This is why I must control myself.