Chapter 19
Camila
My heart is hammering out of my chest. I don’t know how, but all he has to do is look at me, and it’s like all logical thought—every boundary I’ve set myself—flies out of the window.
I can hear the beat of my pounding heart like warning sirens in my head. Begging me to run the other way and not look back.
But it’s too late.
The only thing that exists in this moment is his towering presence and leathery scent.
But Penelope hangs in the back of my mind. He can wrap his words up in a pretty bow like he did, but that niggling feeling is still there.
His right knee presses between my legs, pinning me in place, as his hand tightens gently around my throat. His face dips to my ear, stubble scratching at the sensitive skin.
“Tell me you believe me,” he whispers. His voice sounds like a plea, eliciting goosebumps all over the left side of my body.
Trusting him—believing him—would be catastrophic. I want so badly to trust him. But I can’t.
The image of Luke in bed with someone else flashes in my mind, bringing a queasy feeling to my stomach. The hurt. The pain. All of it at once.
“Angel.” Xander’s voice pulls me out quickly, and I become aware of only him again.
I drag my eyes to his slowly. His bounce between mine, searching for an answer to his question.
“Tell me you believe me,” he pleads.
Stupidly, I do. The way his words drift off his tongue like he’s begging is enough for me to believe him.
Luke never begged.
“If you ever interrupt me again, I’ll shoot you”—he digs a finger into my chest—“right here. Then I’ll fuck your dead body into the ground.”
I refuse to let him play on my mind right now.
I shut it out and focus on the exhilarating presence in front of me.
I nod at Xander, a slow but sure confirmation. His hand leaves my throat and comes to the nape of my neck, gathering my hair and pulling, angling my lips higher towards him.
It doesn’t hurt.
Every single movement he makes with me is soft—but claiming. As though he’s scared that if he’s any rougher, I’ll shatter like glass.
It’s so at odds with the hard exterior of him. The darkness that seems to follow him around.
He dips his head again, towards my lips, until they’re only a breath apart.
“What are you doing, Xander?” I whisper, my bottom lip grazing his. Only for a millisecond, but it’s a millisecond that makes my breath hitch.
I want to reach my arms out towards him, to touch him. But I’m terrified of what will happen when I do. The brush of his lips alone is enough to make me question everything I thought I knew. What would happen if I tasted them?
I’ve tried to keep him at an arm’s length, but no matter what, he keeps coming back.
His hand tightens in my hair, and the other trails down my waist, squeezing when he reaches my thigh and leaving sparks of craving in his wake. His body trembles, like it’s taking every bit of restraint in him to not go further in this moment.
Waiting for me to make the first move.
“I’ve tried. I’ve tried to stay away from you. But you’re a drug, and I’m addicted to you. I need you.”
He traces a path from my thigh to the hem of my shorts. Hooking his thumb into them, he brushes the lace of my thong but continues his pursuit of gripping the denim and forcing me down onto his thigh. The connection brings instant heat to my core, my pussy twitching.
He notices. His eyes trail up, and when they meet mine, his pupils are blown.
His other hand lets go of my head and travels to the front of my neck again.
“We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. There are cameras. I could lose my job,” I whisper shakily.
He pulls away but only an inch. His eyebrow arches, and a smirk touches his lips. “I’m your boss, Camila.”
“All the more reason not to be doing this.” I try to make a convincing argument, but who am I trying to talk out of this? Myself or him?
The deep sound of his chuckle floods me as he drops his forehead to mine.
“You don’t get it, do you?” His hand tightens on my neck, and his knee shifts upwards, adding more pressure in that spot that's quickly soaking with arousal. I gasp as he brings his mouth to my ear again. “I don’t think you know it yet, but you will be mine… You are mine,” he declares roughly.
“You can’t just lay your claim on me. I’m not a thing to be owned,” I retort, though my words come out breathy as I hold myself back from moving my hips. My pussy is pulsing on his thigh, begging for more friction. Needing it.
But I can’t give in. Not yet. I need to know that he wants this as much as I want it. I have to stop denying myself, even if it’s just this one time.
The one thing my cretin of an ex will never be able to take away from me again is my freedom to be able to make this choice for myself.
Xander has me overpowered with arousal, and I can’t find it in myself to care whether this will be the only time we do this.
He licks up the column of my throat, his hot tongue pressing against the sweet spot behind my ear, eliciting a quiet moan.
“No. You’re not a thing, but you are mine.
Every breath you take is mine. Every thought or dream you have?
I’ll make sure it’s of me.” His entire body trembles hard now as he brings his lips back to mine.
“This is your only chance. Run. Run while you can—because once I show you just how much you belong to me, there’ll be no going back. ”
Those words should make me do exactly as he says, but they don’t. My breaths pick up, my centre practically weeping for any type of friction now.
“But know this,” he starts, and his thigh forcefully moves upwards, giving me the much-needed traction and making me moan fully now. “I will chase you. Even in the afterlife, I would search for you until I found you again.”
I meet his eyes. Promise burns in every hue of his baby blues.
I was wrong.
This doesn’t feel like doom.
It feels like deliverance.
I crash my lips to his, and my hands fly up, gripping the sides of his rough stubble. I pull him closer to me, arching my spine. It’s not close enough. A guttural moan slips from him into my mouth, his knee pressing further against my core. I start gyrating my hips, finally seeking some reprieve.
His tongue swipes against mine, and it’s not gentle—it’s possessing.
Just like the hand around my throat. His free hand travels to my knee, hiking my leg up around his waist. He trails it to my ass, grabbing the right cheek and gripping it hard, making me moan out.
He drives his knee up, letting me chase that rapidly building high.
I pull in a breath when he starts kissing down my neck, his hand roaming every curve of my body.
Another moan slips out as I grind slowly on him, the hand on my neck holding me firmly in place, his stubble gently scraping every place he kisses.
“That’s it, Angel, make yourself come on my thigh,” he growls as he grips either side of my hips, guiding me faster with each movement.
A hint of surprise hits me at his praise. And I immediately shove a lock on the door of my past. Begging it not to rear its ugly head.
His mouth claims mine once more, his tongue dominating my lips. Reaching beneath my crop top, he pinches my nipple, causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
His eyes bore into mine as his finger brushes over the sensitive peak. I mewl and arch into him, wetness dripping down my thighs and soaking his trousers.
“I don’t like it when these”—he takes one of my nipples and pulls, making me hiss through my teeth in delicious pain—“are out on display for everyone to see.” There’s a tone of anger and jealousy in his voice.
“You can’t control me, Xander,” I sigh out. Though, as I chase the release I desperately need, he could tell me to follow him into the depths of hell, and I probably would.
He chuckles, his hand returning to my hip once more. “Not yet.”
I freeze, my panting filling the empty corridor. Xander’s dark eyes and smirk hold me hostage.
His mouth drops, and his hand palms my breast over my crop top. “Did I tell you to stop fucking yourself?”
I hum in my throat and throw my head back as he squeezes me.
“Answer me,” he demands in a growl, pulling on my nipple.
“No,” I cry out.
“Then keep fucking going until you come. Eyes on me.”
My eyes snap open as my hips resume their grinding. Fire pools low in my abdomen when his hand comes away from my neck and rests on my pelvis, grinding my hips back and forth.
“That’s a good girl.”
There’s that praise again. And there’s the pausing of my breath.
His hooded eyes burn into me as my hips pick up pace. Both of his hands grab my ass, aiding the speed.
“That’s it,” he whispers. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart.”
The pressure becomes unbearable, and my hips slow.
“Are you gonna come for me, Camila?” he murmurs, grinning.
My breath comes ragged as ripples of release flood through me, my hips jerking on him.
“Good fucking girl,” he growls, rubbing his leg on me, letting me ride out my orgasm.
He stops moving, our panting filling the hallway as we rest our heads against each other’s.
“Xander,” I start.
“Meet me in the lounge.” He swallows. “Please.”
He steadies me back on my heels, his eyes still filled with lust—like he doesn’t want this to end.
But to be honest, neither do I.