Chapter 5

5

EMILIA

I slip into the pink cami set I’m wearing to bed and wish I’d brought an oversize T-shirt instead. This set is too sexy with its plunge neckline and lace to wear while Javier is near. My original plan of keeping him on his toes with clothes designed to do that is out the damn window after our earlier attempt at dinner. I never expected him to finger-fuck me the way he did, and I don’t want to encourage that again. Not when I know I’m one step away from submitting to any demand he makes on my body.

Exiting the bathroom into the main bedroom of his suite, I come to a stop when I find him sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room watching me intently. He trails his gaze down my body, unnerving me, before lifting his half-drunk glass of whiskey to his lips and drinking some.

I don’t know what to make of Javier after tonight.

On one hand, he ordered me around like he does everyone in his organization and mentioned putting a bullet through my skull. On the other, he called me sweetness and threw me over his shoulder to bring me to safety. He also informed me he won’t be taking a mistress once we’re married. It’s all very contradictory and I need some space from him to sort through my thoughts. Space he doesn’t seem intent on giving me.

“Why are you in here?” I ask.

“This is my suite in case you’ve forgotten.” His voice has turned hard again after losing some of that harshness when he used his favorite term of endearment on me.

“Yes, but I presumed that when you brought my suitcase into this room, you were allocating it to me.”

He throws more whiskey down his throat before standing. “You should never presume anything, Emilia. This is our room.”

I stare at him, eyes a little wider than a second ago, heart in my throat. “This is not our room. And if you think it is, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Javier might think I’ll be sleeping with him after our wedding, but he’s wrong. I won’t be. And I definitely won’t be sharing a bed with him tonight.

He comes to me, and while I want to put distance between us again, I don’t move. I push my shoulders back, hold my head high, and keep my eyes on his. I’ll be damned if I’ll show him how he affects me.

Taking over my space, he growls, “You aren’t sleeping on the sofa. You’ll sleep next to me, so I know you’re safe.”

How he manages to sway my breaths into speeding up and my legs into feeling weak, I will never know, but he does. “You’re being ridiculous. You have how many security guards at the door, inside and out? I’m hardly unsafe in any room of this penthouse.”

Finishing his glass of whiskey, he stabs a finger at the bed behind me. “You’re sleeping in that bed and I’m not hearing another word about it.”

With that, he turns and stalks out of the room, leaving me staring after him, a bewildered mess.

Holy. Hell.

I don’t recall Javier being this bossy two years ago. He was certainly arrogant with a take-charge attitude, but this is next level. I can’t decide if I hate it as much as I’m telling myself I do.

I walk back into the bathroom and slam the door closed behind me. I’m not generally a woman who sulks or gets in a mood like this, but Javier’s bringing it all out in me. I might just stay in here all night at the rate we’re going.

Fifteen minutes later, I admit defeat on secluding myself away and storm out of the bathroom in a huff. Thankfully, Javier is nowhere to be seen in the bedroom, so I’m able to take the time to pull myself together.

Once I’ve calmed down, I leave the bedroom in search of wine. I’ll spend the night working, avoiding my husband-to-be, and taking the edge off with a drink.

The penthouse is empty, save for the security guy he’s got at the front door. I locate a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass. Traipsing back into the bedroom, I try to ignore the niggling realization that I’m disappointed not to see Javier in the living area. I don’t want him in the bedroom, but Jesus, why do I wish he was in the suite at all?

I’ve lost my sanity.

It’s the only reason for what I’m feeling.

I set myself up on the king-size canopy bed that feels bigger than a king and fancier than any bed I’ve seen with its gold-threaded fabric and collection of pillows and immerse myself in work.

Hours fly by like they always do when I’m working, and it’s not until Javier’s voice filters into the bedroom from the penthouse that I realize it’s past midnight. Stretching, I listen to him, and while I can’t make out what he’s saying, I pick up on his mood. He’s angry, and a few moments later, I see that mood written all over him when he enters the bedroom.

Dropping his suit jacket on the armchair, he works his way down the buttons of his black dress shirt as he strides into the bathroom without a glance in my direction. His hard jaw is the very definition of ruthless, as is the expression on his face. Whoever he met with tonight has not made him happy.

My stomach flutters with unease.

We have a long history of knowing each other, but Javier is not the man I knew two years ago. It’s common knowledge in the world we inhabit that his brutality is unmatched. That he’s merciless when dealing with people and problems. And while he told me he doesn’t want to put a bullet through my head, I’m reluctant to fully believe that. The only thing keeping me here is the knowledge that he’s aware his actions will put the cartel at risk if he harms me. And if I know one thing about this man, I know the cartel is his sole focus. He won’t ever do anything to jeopardize it.

I pack up my laptop while he’s in the bathroom, storing it in my bag in the closet. I’m on my way out to the kitchen with my wine glass when Javier returns to the bedroom and says from behind me, “I want you tonight.”

Four words and he’s reduced me to nothing but need.

My legs stop moving and my brain forgets how to work.

And Javier commands any speck of my attention that wasn’t already on him when he moves behind me and runs his finger over my shoulder and down my arm. He doesn’t even need to utter another word; he owns my body if he so chooses right now.

“No.”

His finger ends its journey and his hand wraps around my wrist as he steps closer. “You can’t deny me forever, Emilia.” The deep gravel of his voice almost tips me over the edge. Almost forces me to turn and give him whatever he wants.

My veins thrum with him as I continue to fight against the desire I want nothing to do with. “I can, and I will.”

His other hand curves over my hip, the tips of his fingers sliding into my shorts. “Turn around.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing myself to stay strong against him. Something I’ve never been good at. Not from the minute I met him at fifteen. Not from the minute he showed me he cared about me at nineteen. Not from the minute he made me his two and a half years ago.

Opening my eyes again, I say, “Why did you end our relationship?”

His hand dips further down into my shorts and he presses his erection against my ass. “I had my reasons,” he says, brushing his lips over the bare skin of my shoulder. “Turn around.”

“I’m not turning around until you tell me your reasons.”

His fingers dig into my skin. “I am not a man who shares his reasons. You know this.”

“If you want to marry me, you’re going to need to share them.” I do my best to ignore the fact he’s removed his shirt and try like hell not to look at his bare arms and the muscles he’s built since I last saw him. My best isn’t good enough; my eyes are all over his corded arm muscles.

“I see you require a reminder of how a relationship between us works,” he growls, lifting me and taking me to the bed. I’m on my back with him over me before I know it, his eyes dark with dominance and desire.

“You do not dictate to me,” he says, tearing my shorts off me. “That is never how this will work, and the sooner you understand that the better off you’ll be.”

My heart goes wild, beating furiously against my chest with both desire and fear. Fear that he’s finally going to win this battle. That I’m finally going to give in and let him take everything from me.

I put my hands to his chest and attempt to push him away, but it’s going to take a lot more strength than I have to shift him. Javier is made of muscle and fierce determination. When he sets his sights on something, he makes sure he gets it.

And holy fuck, he’s single-minded tonight. I know this for absolute certainty when he spreads my legs, holds them down with force, dips his mouth to my pussy, and licks from bottom to top through my panties while keeping his eyes firmly on mine.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Tell me you want me.”

“I will never tell you that,” I say breathlessly.

He swipes his tongue over my panties again. “Tell me.” It’s an order, and coming from a man who’s used to having his orders followed, I quiver at the thought of what he’ll do if I don’t comply.

And yet, I can’t bring myself to yield to him.

“No.”

His jaw clenches as he lifts his face.

I hold my breath and wait for his next move.

He takes hold of my hand and brings it to my panties, slipping my fingers inside and directing them inside of myself. “Do you feel how fucking wet you are?”

So wet.

Always, with this man.

“It doesn’t mean I want you.”

That dominance in his eyes flares and I swear I feel the energy in the room darken. “What does it mean, then, Emilia, if not that?” He adds one of his fingers to mine inside me and finds a rhythm that will only get me wetter. And as much as I don’t want a thing to do with this, I can’t help myself. I match his rhythm.

My back arches up off the bed.

My free hand grips the sheet.

My toes curl.

Holy. Fuck. This. Man.

I lose any ability I might have had left to deny him as he works me to orgasm.

Keeping his fingers inside me, he puts his other hand to the mattress and leans down, bringing his face close to mine. Searching my eyes, he says, “You want me, and I want to hear you say it.”

I’m going to come.

I don’t want to fucking come.

Damn him.

“Those are words you will never hear from me, Javier.”

“And yet, your cunt wants me.”

I orgasm, completely coming apart. I come harder than I have since Javier last fucked me. God damn him for being the one man who knows exactly how to pleasure me.

He watches me silently for a few moments, taking in all the ways he affects me, before moving off the bed. “I won’t restrain myself forever, dulzura.”

I slowly figure out how to draw breath again as he leaves the bedroom.

I have no doubt Javier won’t restrain himself forever.

That’s not my greatest concern here.

The fact I don’t want him to is.