Chapter Ten

I need to know they're not going to come here... that they're not going to hurt you again.

Fucking Christ.

She cared about him, there was no denying that anymore. Not when he'd watched her cry, sobbing heavy and desperate against his chest at the mere thought of him getting hurt, at the subconscious scenario that had played out in her head.

He cared about her more.

But did he care about her enough to leave...? Which is what he needed to do. It had only taken a matter of weeks for their deal to get all fuzzy and fraudulent. A set of words with no real conviction behind them. It was like they only existed so that the two of them could feel some fictitious sense of balance, of safety in their false liberation of emotions and ties.

At least he hadn't slept over. That boundary hadn't been crossed yet.

No feelings, no labels, just sex.

He'd fucked up the feelings bit, they both had... the labeling was trickier. She certainly wasn't his girlfriend, was barely even his friend if they were being honest with themselves. But the burning, aching knot in his chest that repeated the mantra of mine, mine, mine whenever she was near-- even when she wasn't-- was impossible to deny. He'd fucking said it out loud for Christ's sake, made her cum around his cock at just the utterance of the word.

My chiquita. Mine. Mine.

She wouldn't feel that way, wouldn't feel anything toward him but seething regret, heavy hatred if she knew.

He didn't deserve her, should've never touched her perfect little form with his murderous, guilty hands. But Javier was selfish, another despicable character trait that proved that he would never be good enough for her. As much as he knew he needed to, he couldn't stay away. Every night, when he collapsed in his bed, after fucking Emma in hers, he tried to lie with the fact that it would be the last time.

Never again. Leave her alone. She's too good, too precious, too sweet.

Every morning he woke up with a hollow chest and a deep, vicious hunger in his gut.

He caved every fucking time.

Despicable, weak man. Couldn't stay away, couldn't abate the greedy neediness that clawed away at him until he had her in his hands or on his cock. She tasted too sweet, felt too good, made him feel out of control and insane, but in equal measures, satiated and sedated, that was... until he was alone with his thoughts again.

He wasn't going to the bar today, that much he could control. He would get there right before closing, walk her home, fuck her in her soft, little bed, then he would go home alone. He needed to stop spending so much time with her, needed a bit of space, anything to force their deal into a more palpable, sincere space.

No feelings, no labels, just sex.

_________

Martin was at the bar. Javier was not.

What a fucking grueling combination.

Regardless, she had been in better spirits, since the promise he'd made earlier in the week.

Nothing is going to hurt me, pretty girl.

She replayed those words over and over again, each and every time those images wormed their way back into her mind. She knew that she shouldn't care, shouldn't have even been affected by that nightmare, by the scars on his chest, and the more secretive ones on his mind, but she couldn't help it, couldn't halt it.

No feelings, no labels, just sex.

Their deal was still intact, but it had gone soft and pliable, a loose set of rules for their lawless behavior.

He had called her his.

That was the most surprising, the most blasphemous disregard of their boundaries. And yet... she'd liked it? That was perhaps the greatest concern. She hadn't belonged to anyone, not even Robert or Macie, not anyone since her parents. Nearly a decade afloat, untethered, and then he'd called her his. And it had felt like she'd landed on solid ground for the first time.

She should practice some restraint, put some distance between the two of them until she could slip back into that detached headspace.

But every day he showed up at the bar.

And every day she felt that tether inside of her break apart.

She couldn't belong to him, not when she knew nothing about his past, not his full name, or why he was here. Not when they'd made a deal to stay removed, not when she knew that she could never really let anyone in ever again. And yet, the word mine out of his mouth had felt like a crashing force that she could not avoid. It had pulled her under, trapped her with no means of escape.

She'd never had that problem before. Not even with Robert. Every man she'd dated in the past had lived in glittery promise, protected and unscathed from the world around them. It was easy to dismiss their empathic declarations of love, their fumbling attempts at locking her down and keeping her, a prize among their countless trophies gifted to them from a life without turmoil. They existed on a different plane than she did. She could reject, dispel their adorations, their pleading promises on the premise that they hadn't truly experienced anything.

But Javier... He'd lived through something. He resided in the same state of anguish, of constant flight that Emma did. He refused to let anyone in and even when he did it was always one step removed, an arm's length away. When he called her mine that meant something, it was deeper and darker and needy. It was like something inside of him had cracked open and crawled out without his permission. How could she dismiss that?

Still, in irritating juxtaposition, she knew that word could never really be true. They didn't know each other, and they never would. Even when he promised her that whatever had hurt him wouldn't come back, he did so without a single indication as to what that something was. Those scars could be the result of something fighting him off, trying to get away from him, trying to save themselves from him. She didn't know, would never know. And so their deal needed re-enforcing. Which was why, she knew, he wasn't at the bar.

The distance made her core ache and she cursed herself because of it.

__________

She huffed, tucking a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear as she tugged her bag over her shoulder and began shuffling her way toward the door.

Javier had never shown up, which had left a bubbling bout of disappointment in her gut that she'd worked all shift to try to negate. They needed some distance; they both knew that despite never uttering it aloud. She should be grateful that he had enough restraint to stay away. Lord knows if it were the other way around, she wouldn't have.

Still, the thought of having to go home to an empty bed, no wide, pretty brown-eyed man there to make her come and help relieve the stress of getting berated by Martin all day did fill her with an annoying sense of defeat.

She'd just have to make do... she certainly had been before he'd showed up. Right?

She set the alarm, noting a slight commotion echoing through the door as she pushed it open.

It was two men, near the corner, smoking cigarettes and drunkenly laughing about something, their voices carrying and echoing through the empty streets of the Sunset.

She kept an eye on them as she locked the bar, a stinging bit of fear crawling up the back of her spine when they stopped laughing and noted her presence with a quick nod of their heads.

She reached into her bag and tried to inconspicuously dig around for her bottle of pepper spray.

"Hey there." The taller one of the two sang out, beginning to walk toward her with his friend in tow.

Fuck.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" The other one joined in, flashing a crooked set of saffron colored teeth that made her physically cringe.

Her sense of self-preservation should have urged her back into the bar. She should've unlocked the door, gone back inside, and called for a police escort back to her house.

Instead, she planted her feet, her eyebrows furling together as she continued to try to dig around in her bag for her pepper spray.

Fuck these cunts, you can't make me feel unsafe in my own neighborhood, at my own goddamn bar.

"What're you looking for sweetheart?" The tall one crooned. They were close now, too close, and she still hadn't found her fucking pepper spray. She was fully digging in her bag now, both hands fumbling through its contents as her stomach clenched with hot nerves.

"I asked you a question." His voice was there, right in front of her, his hand coming up to grab her chin just as her fingers brushed the cold, circular bottom of that goddamn can.

Then, loud, echoing down the street, the vibration of it causing her hair to stand on end.

"Chiquita."

The men fumbled backward as Emma's neck snapped toward his voice, to find him marching across the street toward them, looking so wide and absolutely fucking furious.

He was going to kill them. That was the only thought spinning around in his murderous mind as he cleared the distance in heavy steps, all the muscles in his arms and back tense and tight.

Mine, mine, mine.

"What's going on here?" He spat out, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to shake the ground underneath her as he materialized at her side, taking the arm that wasn't stuck inside her bag by one large hand locked above her elbow. Relief flooded her body, unthreading that knot in her gut as her grip on the can loosened.

The two men bolted at the sight of him, their footsteps thudding as they sprinted down the street and around the corner. Javier almost chased them, the base of his spine twitching, violence so heavy on his mind that it felt like his back molars would burst at the pressure of his clenched jaw.

"Nothing." Emma spat out, trying to appear impervious even as her voice betrayed her by shaking. "I had it under control." She uttered, pulling that illusive pepper spray can out of her bag and holding it up between them.

The lines between Javier's eyebrows etched themselves deeper. His mind flashed gruesome scenarios at him as he stared down at her. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? What if he had listened to the nagging voice in the back of his head that had been urging him to stay away from her, just for one night?

He never would've forgiven himself.

He would have torn the entire city apart to find those men.

"You should have waited for me to get here to walk you home." He muttered, dark and deep and commanding and she felt the relief that had flooded her body a moment earlier turn hot with annoyance.

"I should've waited for you?" She spat out, tugging herself out of his grip and placing her hands on her hips. "How the fuck was I even supposed to know you were coming here? I can't read your mind, Javier, I thought that was pretty fucking obvious by now."

He scoffed, "When haven't I walked you home? Name a single time."

She didn't say anything, just continued to glare up at him, her hands on her slight hips, her chest heaving with irritation.

Stupid fucking enigmatic man thinks he needs to protect me like I'm some damsel in distress.

"That pathetic can of pepper spray wouldn't have stopped them from fucking--" He couldn't even say the word, just thinking about it made his hands curl into fists at his sides.

Kill them, kill them, I should've killed them.

"I can take care of myself." She barked, her annoyance pushing her to keep reprimanding him, saying far more than she should've. "I've always taken care of myself Javier, always. That doesn't change just because you showed up here and decided you wanted to fuck me on occasion! I'm not yours to protect!"

She watched his eyes darken to a near shade of black.

Mine.

When he spoke again it was a growl, the intensity of it making a shiver work its way up her spine, "Yes, you are."

"No- I'm- Not." She snapped, each word its own sentence, sharp and precise. Then she spun around and began marching toward her house.

"Where are you going?" He rumbled, beginning to stalk after her, his wide presence a thick cloud of heat behind her.

"Home!" She spat out, throwing a glare at him over her shoulder. "And I don't need you to fucking walk me there so just fuck off!"

I'm not yours to protect.

He was going to show her just how fucking wrong she was.

He stayed silent behind her, a good ten feet of distance that he had to actively work to maintain as she marched her way toward her apartment, head held high, tiny feet stomping into the cement.

Stubborn, stubborn little girl.

All his earlier restraint, the falsity of their deal, none of it mattered anymore. Not at that moment. The only thing that did matter was that she was safe, that those cabróns hadn't touched her, that she was his and he was going to remind her of that just as soon as those stubborn little feet stomped their way up her steps.

"Go away, Javier." She seethed, her mind and her chest at war with each other. She wasn't his to protect, didn't fucking need protecting, but oh she'd missed him today, wanted him to ease the tension drilling away in her temples by making her come all over his mouth and his fingers and his cock.

The minute her shoe hit the first step of her building he was on her, one arm locked around her waist, spinning her around and tugging her to him as his other hand grabbed her jaw, hooking his finger into the bend of it so he had leverage to pry her smart mouth open.

A gasp echoed its way out of her throat as he peered down at her, eyebrows pinched together, eyes nearly black as the warm glow of the streetlamps blanketed the side of his pretty face.

"Tell me to go away again." He muttered, his wide, tall form crowding her, making it impossible for her to escape, or move, or speak above a pathetic squeak.

She didn't say anything, her chest heaving, all the animosity that had been clouding her mind dissolved by the hungry way he was gazing down at her, like she was prey, like he owned her.

"Smart little mouth not so smart anymore is it, chiquita?" He grumbled, a mean smirk on his face that made her quiver in his hands.

"Javi." She spat out, her fingers struggling for purchase on the taut skin of his upper arms.

"I know, baby." He nodded, almost condescendingly, "I know."

Then his mouth was on hers, their lips fusing as he possessively pushed his tongue into her mouth while his fingers pried her jaw open. A whimper echoed out of her throat as he bit down on her bottom lip, hoisting her further up his body, the hand that was locked on her jaw, sweeping back and cradling the crown of her head.

It was messy and fumbled as they slowly made their way up the steps, her hands blindly searching for her keys while he ate at her mouth.

"Give them to me." He mumbled against her when he heard the keys jingle in the confines of her bag.

She thrust them into his hand, whimpering as he kissed her hard once more before pushing her against the door, trapping her against it as he reached around her and shoved the key into the lock.

"Been a bad girl, chiquita." He growled into the shell of her ear, "how should I punish you?"

A choked attempt at a rebuttal echoed out of her throat as he pushed the door open and yanked her up his torso, the hard length of his cock thrusting into her backside as he carried her through the threshold, kicking the door closed behind them.

He dropped her onto the ground, her feet scrambling for purchase as he stared down at her, impossibly big and so handsome it hurt.

"Go to the bedroom, take all your goddamn clothes off." He rumbled, already kicking his boots off, thick fingers working to undo the buttons of his shirt.

She swayed there for a moment, then scrambled her way down the hall, causing a chuckle to erupt out of his chest.

So fucking obedient the moment she's presented with the opportunity to come.

He stripped himself down to his boxers, lying his clothes out on the couch and beginning his way down the hallway, where she was already naked on the bed, quivering at each pound of his footsteps, her cunt leaking obscenely onto the sheets.

He appeared in the doorway, his wide shoulders blocking out the light from the hall, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he took in the sight of her, unobstructed milky skin, her little body trembling, her cunt red and swollen for him.

"Pretty girl." He crooned, slow, precise steps echoing through the room as he approached the bed. "So pretty, but so naughty."

"Am not!" She pouted, bottom lip jutting out, dark blue eyes gazing up at him as her thighs quivered.

"No arguing." He snarled, crawling over her, causing her to sink down into the pillows, cowering underneath him. "Naughty girls need to be punished."

Then he was flipping her over, hands tight on her hips, propping her up on her knees as her upper body pressed down into the mattress. His right hand left her and returned with a stinging crack on her ass. The reverberation of it shot down to her aching cunt, causing a sharp moan to vibrate against the bed.

He groaned, low in his throat as she wiggled her hips, swaying them back and forth, her generous ass beautifully on display, her swollen cunt dripping, painting the inside of her thighs. She was trying to entice him, get him to fuse his mouth to that pretty pussy... and it was working.

He slapped her ass once more, hard, short, the red imprint of his palm slowly materializing on her perfect skin. Then he was gripping her thighs, fusing his mouth to her pussy, and beginning to eat her from behind.

She screamed, nearly collapsing onto the bed as he stuck his tongue into her leaking entrance, then licked through her folds, the tip of his tongue teasing her aching clit.

"Mine." He growled against her, the vibration of it making her pussy clench.

"F-fuck Javi-- I-- oh that feels-- s-so good." She whimpered, her hands clutching the sheets with white knuckles.

"Has anyone ever made you feel this good, bonita? Hmm? Anyone ever made this pretty pussy so wet and desperate?" He inquired, spreading her apart with two giant palms, licking a greedy line from her clit to her hole.

"No, no, no, no. Just you, oh please." She whined, pressing back into him, feeling his mustache scratch her skin as he sucked at her folds.

She tastes so good, so sweet, never get enough, never let her go.

She felt everything get hot and tight, searing as he flicked at her clit with the tip of his tongue, his thick fingers digging into her ass. How could she deny being his when he made her feel like this? Made her come undone so easily...

"Cum on my mouth, baby. Cum for Papi, show me who you belong to."

Her pelvis twitched, her cunt beginning to flutter as her legs shook, and then she was wailing as he continued to eat at her pussy, lapping at her and shoving two fingers up into her as she spilled all over his palm.

"There you go, sweetheart." He hummed as she collapsed onto the mattress, letting him flip her over, her core clenching as she gazed up at him, his pupils blown out, his wide, golden torso towering over her, his mustache wet with her arousal.

He didn't give her a second to recover, his mind clouded with need as he tugged his boxers down enough to free his thick, leaking cock, his heavy balls. Then he was between her thighs, tugging one leg up over his wide shoulder, locking the other under his arm as he grabbed her waist and yanked her closer to him.

She yelped, staring wide-eyed up at him as his cock twitched at her entrance.

"Condom?" He asked, even as he grabbed his length in one massive fist, dragging it up and down her messy cunt, coating him in her slick as they both moaned.

"No, no, never again please just--" She spat out, shaking her head manically against the bed as he began pushing the red-hot head of his dick into her.

"Good girl." He hummed, then choked as he felt her suck him in, her hot, tight walls squeezing his length so deliciously that he felt his eyes roll into the back of his skull. "F-fuck baby, th-at's, you feel so goddamn good."

He thrusted into the very end of her, slamming into that spot that was just his.

Just like the rest of you, her brain reminded her, you are his and he's proving it right now.

"Talk to me, bonita." He grunted, teeth bared as he grinded into her, heavy balls slapping her ass. "Tell me how good it feels."

"S-so good." She whimpered, little hands reaching out to dig her fingers into his arms.

"Hard to use your big girl words when you're so full of cock, isn't it, chiquita?" He quipped, slamming into her hard, causing a broken mewl to echo from her throat.

"Da-ddy." She spat out, without any cognition, her cunt tensing around his devastating length.

He felt his balls tighten, a hearty moan echoing through the room.

"That's right, chiquita. Daddy owns this pretty little cunt. You're mine, I want to hear you say it."

"I'm yours, Javi, I'm yours just p-please. Need it harder, please." She gasped, her mind clouded with need, with him.

He felt his chest burst open, achy, and searing.

"I'll give you what you need, chiquita." He hummed, then slammed into her, so hard she felt the reverberation all along her scalp. Then she was fluttering around him, her cunt clamping around his length so hard that he came with her immediately, pushing his spend up into her womb as she milked his cock, a hearty moan echoing against her neck as he collapsed over her.

He rolled over, bringing her with him, tucking her little form in against his chest, wrapping himself around her.

No one was going to touch her, no one but him.

"Next time you wait for me to walk you home, do you understand?" He uttered, low and deep against her scalp, the vibration of his voice making her stomach cramp up.

She still protested, because of course she did...

"I walked myself home every single day before you showed up." She muttered, craning her neck so she could look up at him from her position, clamped tight against his chest.

She felt the muscles in his arms twitch around her.

"I don't care, Emma. Who knows what those fucking pendejos would have done if I hadn't gotten there." He felt his molars grind together again at the thought, the repulsive images that etched themselves deep into his brain. She was so small tucked in against him, so susceptible to harm.

You're going to harm her too-- already have, touching her with your murderous hands.

He pushed the thought away, tried to focus on the feeling of her soft skin against his, tiny hands tucked under her chin, plump, pillowy breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest.

"I would have dealt with it." She stated, stern and confident, in juxtaposition to the fucked-out way she was gazing up at him, her eyes half-lidded, her lips all puffy, the skin around her mouth slightly pink from the abuse of his mustache.

"Just listen to me, for once, goddammit." He grunted, reaching between them to grip her chin, thumbing at her swollen bottom lip.

She knew they weren't going to get anywhere with this, they never did. She wasn't going to listen to him, she knew that he knew that. But she didn't want to fight, she was tired, her eyes already fluttering closed as his warmth engulfed her.

"Then don't be late next time." She whispered, tucking her head back in against his chest, breathing in deeply, the woody scent of his skin further lulling her to sleep.

His body ached, down to his bones, as he watched her pull herself closer to him, sticking one of her legs between his, her fingers digging into his sides, using the hold to press herself entirely against him.

He needed to leave.

Fuck, he didn't want to.

He gently ran his hand over the back of her head, her hair like silk against his palm. Her body grew limp in his arms, her breathing slow and hot against his chest.

"Chiquita." He whispered, tucking her hair back behind the delicate shell of her ear.

She was asleep.

Fucking hell, she was asleep, so peacefully content in his arms. How was he supposed to leave? How could he when this delicate creature had chosen him as her form of comfort, solace? Her pouty little lips parted, wisps of her sweet, strawberry breath tickling his chest, pretty eyes shut, dark lashes resting on the pink apples of her cheeks.

He had to.

He gently moved, grimacing as he untangled their limbs and scooted toward the edge of the bed.

She whined, and he stopped in his tracks, glancing back at her as her sleeping face twisted up in protest.

Mine.

No, not yours.

He stood up, carefully tucking her underneath the duvet as he forced himself to walk out of the room, while his heart cramped painfully in his chest.

He thought he heard her utter his name as he opened the door and stepped outside, but he urged himself to chalk it up to a bit of delusion.

Emma sat up in bed as the door clicked closed, her apartment suddenly feeling harrowingly cold and empty.

Just sex.