My love for my father is unconditional. Something that has been proven time after time over the years. But I still find myself sympathizing with Javi for whatever wrong was done to him. The only conclusion I can draw is that it must have been a misunderstanding. Because my father would never intentionally hurt Javi. He'd never intentionally hurt anyone.
This much I know to be true.
But I know Javi won't see it the same way. And I don't have the energy to travel down that path today. So I change the subject.
"Will you show me your face?"
I can't look at him when I ask.
"No."
His hands curl into fists at his sides, and I sense he is getting ready to leave again. Logic tells me I should be careful. I shouldn't push too much too soon. But I need to feel like we're making progress. At this rate, it could take years before we get anywhere.
"I've already seen you," I point out. "So what harm will come..."
He's out of his chair before I can finish the sentence. Hauling me up into his arms and squeezing my face in his hand.
"You want to see the beast?" he asks. "Is that it?"
"No."
I try to shake my head, but it doesn't move in his iron grip.
"I just want to see you, Javi. Please."
"You want to see me so you can hate me?"
"No."
My voice sounds less and less sure, and that isn't helping the situation right now.
Javi spins me around and pins my back against his chest, caging me in with his arms. He's impossible. I can't fight him. I can't fight him, and he knows it.
I wonder again if this is it. If he's going to choke me to death. I close my eyes and wait.
He drags his nose along my neck, breathing me in. I shiver, and something else invades the space between us.
Something potent.
Something intoxicating.
"I want you," he grunts.
I turn to cement in his arms, and yet he pulls me closer still. His cock wedged against my ass.
"Let me have you."
His lips find my throat. Soft. He kisses his way down the column of my neck and over my collarbone. My breathing is disjointed. Too loud. My body's response to him is not to be trusted.
Do I want this? Do I not? I can't figure it out anymore.
His hands slip beneath my shirt, squeezing my breasts as he groans into my ear.
"Let me see you," I plead.
It's the wrong thing to say.
Javi is tearing at my clothes now. Clothes that I probably won't get back. I am powerless to stop him. Powerless to do anything as he tosses me around like a rag doll.
The shirt falls to the ground below. My leggings too. The bra comes next. And then he's reaching for my panties. I do fight him this time. And in the chaos, I tumble onto the floor and scramble backward on all fours, trying to get away. Javi stalks after me like the predator he is. Too fast.
He's too fast.
He catches me around the ankle and then kneels down in front of me, shoving me onto my back as he yanks my panties free.
I kick at him, and it does nothing.
He grips the soft flesh behind my knees with each of his palms and thrusts my legs up, exposing me to him in the most indecent way possible.
"Javi, please … "
He buries his face between my thighs, and I forget. I forget everything.
I forget if we're fighting or not.
I forget how to breathe for a minute.
His beard tickles and scratches me. But it's his tongue. His tongue is inside of me. And my body doesn't care anymore. Nothing else exists outside of this moment. I've never felt so exposed. So raw. It's intimate, what he's doing to me. It's the most intimate thing a man can do to a woman.
Before him, I never let anybody touch me. I never let them get that close. And now- it isn't enough. I want more. I want everything. It dominates me.
Javi is rough. He is demanding. And he is hungry.
I jerk against him. I reach down and touch his hood. He pauses, and I beg him not to stop. But there is a moment when he looks up at me. A moment where … something else changes between us.
"Please," I beg him. "Let me see you."
He ignores me and turns back to his task. Eating me out. Devouring me. And I am a slave to the way that he makes me feel right now.
I am captivated by the monster between my thighs. It's getting me high. High on this. High on him. I feel myself falling. It's all going to come crashing down. I don't know what will happen when it's over. But I don't care. I ride it out. Soaking up everything he gives me. And when I come, it is nothing like the orgasms I have ever had before.
It consumes me.
Cripples me.
Blackens my vision and transports me to another world.
I'm in a different headspace. One far removed from the reality of my situation. Because Javi is bending me to his will. Making me a believer in his cause. He's infecting me with his disease of the mind. And I can't seem to stop it.
He crawls up my body and draws out his cock, rubbing it against my chest.
He's fucking my tits. Taking what he wants from me, the same way he always does. But even that isn't enough for him.
"Please me," he demands.
His cock prods the edge of my lips, and I open my mouth for him. I don't know why. I don't know anything. Except that a sick part of me wants this. A part of me wants him to keep defiling me this way.
The head of his cock glides over my tongue, salty. Soft and velvet. He groans and then shudders when I close my mouth around him.
I can't suck him in this position, not really. He's got me pinned. So he takes control. Moving his hips forward. Sliding in and out. The gentleness doesn't last.
When he grunts, he thrusts harder. Deeper. My eyes water and he cups my head to hold me in place. When I look up at him, I can see how untamed he is.
He really is like an animal. Wild. Caged for all these years. He doesn't know how to do anything halfway. He only knows how to take. How to fuck. How to use. And I've become his new favorite toy.
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.
I walk towards the door to the conservatory, and she follows, hurrying along beside me. She takes three steps for my one, and I'm uncertain how to handle this, so I let her rush along beside me.
When we reach the door, I pause. She looks up at me. Nervous. Eyes filled with restrained hope.
"I am going to show you Moldavia," I tell her.
"Okay," she whispers.
"Do not try to run from me, Bella," I warn. "I should not have to remind you of the consequences of such an attempt."