Her hands are on me. On my skin. Beneath my shirt. Touching me. Feeling me. Burning and healing me.
"Take off your sweater," she begs. "Please, Javi."
I look into her eyes, seeking out the deception I am certain to find there. But it is absent.
"Please," she says again.
I push my hand between her legs. Cupping her through the leggings. She is wet for me. For the monster beneath her. I don't understand it. How can she want something so bad for her?
"Javi."
She's pulling up the sweater herself now.
My mind is still at war, but my body is responding to her. Lifting my arms up when she tells me. My sweater ends up on the floor, and my chest is bare for her. Hard and scarred to her soft and pure.
Her palms move over me, exploring. Her lips find the skin of my throat first. And then my collar bone. Then the scars that litter my body. I close my eyes, and my head falls back against the chair.
She is the only one I've ever allowed to touch me in this way. I would not have believed that it was possible.That it could be real.
But it is.
I am allowing her to touch me, and she is wet for me.
"You have always been mine," I tell her.
Her hand moves down to the bulge in my sweatpants, cupping the hard heat through the material.
“But what about you, Javi?” she asks. “Does that mean you are mine, too?"
I groan when she squeezes me through the material, my self-control hanging on by a thread. She leans forward in my lap and kisses my neck again. All the way up to my ear.
"Let me have you," she says. "Let me have all of you."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Javi’s fingersdig into my hips, his eyes sharp and intense.
"You don't know what you're asking for."
"I do," I tell him, and it's a lie.
I know Javi is fucked up in the head. I know that he is a well of darkness I haven't even tapped into yet. And I fear those parts of him. But I am also drawn to it.
The darkness in him speaks to the darkness in me.
The space between us is loud with energy, boiling over into our heated skin.
"Get up," he tells me.
I hesitate.
Afraid he is going to reject me. Afraid he is going to send me away. It isn't what I want. I don't know how to convince him otherwise.
He reaches up and snags a handful of my hair in his grip.
"Are you going to do what you're told, Bella?"
His voice is menacing and hot. Hungry and full of promise. He's on the verge of breaking. And I think he just might give in.