Claimed by El Diablo

Chapter 8: The Restraint

His mouth was a tempest of adrenaline, whiskey, and pure, unfiltered male dominance.

Every rational thought in my brain evaporated the second Javier’s lips crashed against mine. I clung to him, my fingers digging desperately into the thick, soot-stained muscles of his shoulders. I kissed him back with equal ferocity, pouring all my terror, relief, and undeniable craving into the collision.

Javier groaned a deep, guttural sound that vibrated straight through my chest. His massive hands slid from my waist to my thighs, hauling me higher against the cold steel of the medical cabinets. I wrapped my legs around his hips instinctively, anchoring myself to the center of his violent, beautiful storm. His tongue swept into my mouth, taking absolute possession, tasting of danger and the dark promise of protection.

For a man who lived his life with such calculated, lethal control, his kiss was pure, unhinged chaos. He devoured me like a starving man, his heavy hands mapping the curves of my body.

"Prez."

The rough, hesitant voice of Mateo sliced through the heavy air of the med bay.

I gasped, my eyes flying open as I tore my mouth away from Javier’s. My cheeks burned with instant, fiery humiliation. I tried to scramble down from the cabinets, but Javier didn't let me go.

He didn't flinch. He didn't step back. Instead, he slowly lowered my feet to the floor, deliberately keeping his massive frame angled between me and the door, shielding my flushed face and disheveled state from his Vice President's view. His chest heaved against mine, his dark eyes still completely dilated with heat as he stared down at me for one lingering, suffocating second.

Then, the iron shutter fell. El Diablo was back.

Javier turned his head slowly over his shoulder. "This better be life or death, Mateo."

Mateo stood in the doorway, his eyes respectfully glued to a spot on the far wall. "Perimeter is locked down tight, Boss. But we’ve got heavy chatter on the police scanners. Marco is calling in every corrupt badge on his payroll. Half the east side is burning, and he’s out for blood. We need you at the table."

Javier’s jaw clenched, the muscle feathering furiously under his bruised skin. "Give me two minutes."

Mateo nodded once and backed out, the heavy doors swinging shut behind him.

Javier turned back to me. He reached out, his calloused thumb gently tracing the swollen curve of my bottom lip. The possessive fire in his eyes made my breath hitch all over again, but beneath the lust, there was a heavy, calculated restraint.

"I have to go," he murmured, his voice a thick, gravelly rasp. "I need to secure the charters and prep the city for the fallout."

"I know," I whispered, resting my hand flat against his chest, right over his racing heart. "Go."

"Rosa is waiting in the hall. She’s going to take you upstairs to the loft," he ordered, his tone leaving absolutely no room for debate. "You lock the deadbolt. You don't open that door for anyone but me. Understood?"

"Understood."

He leaned down, pressing a hard, lingering kiss to my forehead. "We will finish this, Valentina."

The promise sent a shiver straight down my spine. Javier turned and walked out of the room, his heavy boots echoing like war drums, leaving me alone with my racing heart.

***

The loft was suffocatingly quiet.

For hours, I paced the length of the hardwood floors, listening to the muffled shouts and the heavy footfalls vibrating from the bar below. The Kings of Chaos were preparing for an all-out siege, and I was trapped in the ivory tower.

Desperate to wash away the smell of copper and gunpowder, I stepped into the massive, slate-tiled shower. I scrubbed the dried blood from my arms and the smoke from my hair, letting the scalding water melt the icy tension from my bones. When I stepped out, my own clothes were ruined, so I walked into Javier’s expansive closet.

I pulled on a clean pair of my own underwear and slipped into one of his plain black t-shirts. It was massive, the soft cotton falling mid-thigh, smelling faintly of his dark, cedar cologne. It swallowed my frame entirely, a visual reminder of the man whose walls I was hiding behind.

I curled up on the leather sectional in the living room, pulling my knees to my chest, staring at the locked steel door. I told myself I would stay awake until he came back. But the adrenaline crash was a brutal, physical weight. Slowly, my eyes drifted shut.

The heavy clack of the deadbolt sliding open jolted me awake.

I shot up, my heart hammering, but the panic dissolved the second the door swung inward.

Javier stepped into the dimly lit loft. He looked entirely drained. The lethal, untouchable President had left his armor at the door. He tossed his heavy leather cut onto a chair, unbuckled his shoulder holster, and laid his Glock heavily on the entryway table.

He didn't say a word as he walked into the living room. He just stopped a few feet from the sofa, staring at me sitting there in his shirt. The exhaustion in his dark eyes morphed into something entirely different something hungry and possessive. His gaze slowly tracked down the long expanse of my bare legs, lingering on the hem of his shirt resting mid-thigh.

I saw his jaw tighten, his hands curling into heavy fists at his sides as he fought a visible, agonizing internal battle.

"You're bleeding," I said softly, my voice breaking the heavy, electric silence.

I stood up, walking toward him. His knuckles were split open and raw, smeared with dried blood that wasn't his. There was a fresh, angry cut along his jawline.

Without asking, I took his massive hand in mine and led him to the sofa. I practically pushed him down onto the leather cushions. He went willingly, his eyes tracking my every movement as I retrieved the small first-aid kit from the bathroom.

I sat sideways on the coffee table right between his spread knees, dipping a cotton ball in antiseptic.

"This is going to sting," I warned, taking his scarred hand.

Javier let out a low, rough chuckle. "I've had worse, chica."

I carefully cleaned the split skin over his knuckles. He didn't flinch. In fact, he seemed entirely focused on the sensation of my small hands holding his. The proximity was dizzying. Sitting between his muscular thighs, I could feel the raw heat radiating from his body.

"Marco lost four million dollars in street cash tonight," Javier said quietly, his voice a low rumble. "The warehouse is ash."

I looked up, dabbing the antiseptic on the cut along his jaw. He hissed slightly, not from the pain, but from my touch.

"Javier," I whispered, my eyes searching his. "You didn't have to do this. You didn't have to start a war for me."

Before I could pull my hand away, his fingers snapped around my wrist. His grip was firm, holding my palm flat against his rough cheek.

"I've spent ten years building this club," Javier murmured, his dark eyes burning into mine. "Ten years turning myself into a monster so nobody would ever dare take from me again. I thought I was untouchable." He let out a harsh, self-deprecating breath. "But today, when I saw your car parked at my gates... when I saw Marco's threat... I felt something I haven't felt since the night my sister died."

"What?" I breathed.

"Fear," he admitted. He slid his hands to my waist, his large fingers gripping the soft cotton of his shirt. "I am terrified of losing you, Valentina."

My breath caught in my throat. The walls around the his heart were completely crumbling.

"The claim isn't fake anymore," Javier growled softly. He wrapped his arms around my lower back, effortlessly standing up and taking my weight with him. I gasped, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist as he carried me across the loft.

He didn't carry me to the guest room. He kicked the door to his master bedroom open.

My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I wanted him. Oh, I wanted him.

He laid me down on the dark, heavy sheets, the mattress dipping under his weight as he stood over me. In one fluid motion, Javier reached down and grabbed the hem of his ruined, blood-stained t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor.

I forgot how to breathe. His chest was a masterpiece of lethal muscle and ink. The dark tattoos shifted over his broad pectorals and corded stomach with every heavy breath he took. A sharp V-line disappeared beneath the waistband of his dark denim. He was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing I had ever seen.

He unbuckled his belt and kicked off his boots and jeans, leaving him in only a pair of dark boxer briefs.

He climbed onto the mattress, his massive frame caging me in. I braced myself, my body humming with anticipation, waiting for the storm to break.

Instead, Javier shifted. He wrapped one massive, heavily tattooed arm securely around my waist and pulled me flush against his hard, bare chest. He didn't slide his hands under my shirt. He didn't press for more. He simply buried his face in the crook of my neck, his hot breath fanning across my pulse point.

"Javier?" I whispered, my voice trembling with confusion and a heavy dose of ache.

He let out a ragged, agonizing groan, his grip on my waist tightening.

"I want to tear that shirt off you," he confessed, his voice a gravelly, vibrating whisper against my skin that made my toes curl. "I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own name. It is taking every ounce of control I have left in my body not to take you right now."

"Then why aren't you?" I asked, my heart swelling.

Javier pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. The fierce, uncompromising respect burning in his gaze completely stole my breath.

"Because I take whatever I want from the world, and I ruin it," he swore softly, his thumb brushing a stray curl from my cheek. "But I will not ruin you. You deserve more than a quick s*x in a locked room while a cartel hunts you down. I won't cross that line until I can look at a piece of paper that legally says no one, not Marco Rojas, not the cops, not anyone, can ever take you from me."

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. He was the most dangerous man in the city, but in his arms, I was royalty.

"Go to sleep, chica," Javier murmured, pulling me back down against his chest and resting his chin on top of my head. "You're safe here."

I closed my eyes, surrounded by his scent and his heat, realizing with absolute certainty that I had just fallen completely, irrevocably in love with him.