Victor
I don't hesitate as I throw myself into the water after her. She hasn't reached the surface when I grab her waist. We're under the waterfall, the pressure forcing us to stay at the bottom. She looks at me with wide, frightened eyes. I want to tell her she's safe.
With me, she will always be safe. However long our 'always' lasts.
Or if there ever will be one.
I grip her hips tighter and lift her to the surface. When we break through, we remain silent, staring at each other. She inhales deeply, replenishing the oxygen she was missing. I can feel her heart beating strongly, vibrating under my touch.
She's tense, but she doesn't pull away. This time, she allows me to get closer. I slowly guide her to the edge of the pool, needing a point of support to focus on something else now, not just keeping us afloat.
Her T-shirt is completely useless, soaked through with water. I feel her hot skin under my palms, struggling to anchor myself to reality.
She makes a throaty sound as I press her against the cold edge of the pool. And at that moment, something shuts down in my mind. Every belief and rule I imposed on myself crumbles to dust. Every principle, whatever I knew before her, vanishes like a veil.
I'm a bastard.
I'm a criminal.
I'm a monster.
I'm not allowed to touch her.
I have to stay away from her.
Neither of these thoughts seems enough to stop me.
I slip between her legs, waiting for a sign. I need her to allow me to continue what I have in mind. I need her to let me erase all the touches she felt before me.
I am a possessive man.
And I don't want to spend another moment withholding what I want. I long to make her mine. And with every day spent with her, my madness intensifies.
She wraps her legs around my waist, and I smile contentedly, reading the desire on her face. But also fear.
A fear she didn't have when she was with that bastard Lopez.
I grip the edge of the marble behind her tightly and push myself deeper into her. Another strangled squeal escapes her lips, but she doesn't push me away. My fingers are numb from the effort of keeping us afloat.
I lift her in a controlled movement, placing her on the cold marble. She widens her eyes as she sees me drift away, swimming to the other side of the pool. I can feel the disappointment in her.
I know she wants to protest, but she doesn't have the strength to.
Lucky for her, I'm not done.
I step out of the pool, letting the water drain heavily from my clothes. Both my shirt and pants are destroyed, but I don't give a fuck. I take slow steps towards her, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt and throwing it away. She stares in my direction, mouth open. With each layer that disappears, another spark lights up in her eyes.
I love seeing her come back to life. Before I brought her here, all I could see in her eyes was a void. An uninhabited body. But now, I'm starting to feel that she's alive. When she's by my side, she brings to the surface something I thought didn't exist: the will to live.
By the time I'm within a few feet of her, I lose control. She should be running now. Part of me wants her to, knowing it would be better for both of us. But she doesn't. With a defiant look, she rises from the floor and approaches me. When she's in front of me, I realize once again how fragile she is.
Get away from her.
There's only one step between us, and neither of us seems ready to take it.
"Why did that bastard abandon you?" I break the silence between us.
Her eyes widened in reaction to my question, then she looks away, avoiding me. But I can't let her. I want to know all about her. I want to know her. I want to discover everything she has buried in her soul because something tells me she needs me.
Without thinking, I take the last step that separates us. She keeps looking everywhere but at me. I cup her chin with my fingers and force her to turn to me. She bites her bottom lip and takes a deep breath, anticipating what might happen.
"I'm going to find out what brought you into that darkness you call life, and I'm going to get you out of there. I'll bring the smile back to your face. I promise, little devil."
Shock and hope intertwine in a graceful dance in her eyes, breaking them the moment she closes them.
Her lips feel perfect, wrapped around mine, as if they were made especially for me, and only for me.
I hold her waist with one hand and her hair with the other. The wet strands of hair squeeze into my grip, and water drips down my arm. I pull her closer to me as she lets me invade her mouth with my tongue. I feel like I'm losing myself.
Everything is becoming too intense. She moans against my lips, fighting my kiss. We both need air, but I can't bring myself to let go of her, even for a second. She presses her hands against my chest, seeking support. She keeps fighting me and keeps asking for more. Her breasts press against my chest, and with every movement she makes, I feel her nipples scratching my skin.
She takes a small step back, breaking away from me, as far as my arms allow her.
"This is not good. It's not good what we're doing," she whispers in a throaty voice.
I raise an eyebrow, offended by her remark.
At last, someone has a little sense.
I should be the one to say that, not her. Not long ago, she was doing the same thing with one of my employees. I doubt that when she had Lopez's tongue down her throat, she was thinking that she was doing a bad thing.
"But it feels so good," she adds with palpable shyness in her voice.
Her cheeks are burning again, or maybe they already were, but I was too engrossed in our kiss to realize it.
I continue to watch her in silence, wanting to hear what she thinks without interrupting.
"And now?" she drops her eyes to the floor. "Are we going to the bedroom?"
I start smiling. It's the first time I sense her innocence. Before, she was trying to appear innocent, but now, in this moment, I feel like she isn't even aware of what she's doing.
I remove my hand from her hair and stroke her cheek. She closes her eyes and lets herself be absorbed in my caress, enjoying my touch.
"Is that what you want?"
Her eyes open suddenly. I feel tension on her face, and I manage to understand that she has lost all the confidence with which she faced me until now.
"Yes," she swallows hard and tries to sound convincing.
I can't stop myself from laughing. She is adorable.
"Not even you believe it, Freckles. We'll go to the bedroom," I whisper in her ear.
I feel the tension in her body again. Her heart is racing, and she seems to be struggling to keep her composure.
"Because you need a shower and a lot of rest. Tomorrow is a school day; you have classes, and don't forget the exams. And I'll stay with you for the night because I can't stand to hear you scream from the nightmares that haunt you. And I'll do the same thing, every night, for as long as you'll let me. But I can't give you more than this kiss. I won't touch you. Because, as you said yourself, what we are doing is not good."
I smile at her and grab her hand, forcing her to follow me to the bedroom. On the stairs, she begins to recover from her frenzy, and when we're on the last step, she yanks her hand from mine, stopping us in our tracks.
"Why are you doing this?"
She attacks me with a harsh tone, and I can't help but wonder where she got the courage. Earlier, she seemed ready to pass out.
"What am I doing?" I turn to look at her.
"Why are you keeping me here?"
"I think I already answered your question. Several times even."
"Why are you acting like this with me? As if you care about me?"
"Because I care about you. This is not a secret. I care about you and I want to help you. You are a victim and you do not deserve to live as one."
She doesn't seem to understand my answer, and her anger starts to grow.
"I don't need help, and as far as I can see, you are making me a victim. I'm your prisoner, remember? I am your victim!"
"Trust me, Hellena, you are not my prisoner! On the contrary!" I raise my voice, and she flinches.
Again, anger begins to cloud my judgment. I hate how easily I lose my temper when I get angry.
"What do you mean?" she squints and dares me to answer.
But I don't satisfy her curiosity. I turn my back and continue my way to the bedroom. Only this time, I'm going toward mine. I feel her staring at me as I open the door and walk inside.
As soon as she enters her bedroom, she slams the door, and I can't help but laugh again. She probably expected me to use her bathroom to wash myself. And I would have done it, if only I had a change of clothes there.
I hear the shower start shortly after mine. Our bathrooms are separated only by a wall, as our rooms are mirrored.
I quickly wash up, eager to keep my word, and get back to her.
I only hope she will allow me to do it. If she throws me out, I'll wait until she falls asleep.
Like a freak.
At least now, I won't have to sneak out every morning before she wakes up. Another win, I'd say.
I wipe myself even faster with a towel and put on some fresh clothes. When I'm fully dressed, the sound of running water can still be heard from her bathroom. I fight with myself for a few moments not to rush into her room, but I can't win.
I take a deep breath, and I feel my throat stinging. I'm way too aroused, even after the cold shower I took. The air in my room is becoming too toxic.