Bullshit III

Camila's POV
"Doesn't make you hard?" I say softly, before I bring my hands up to lightly trace patterns on his upper thighs. His eyes instantly snap to my fingers innocently dancing across his skin and I see his eyes glaze over. 
From this angle I can see his chest start to heave, and when he slowly trails his eyes back to mine, I know how hard he's trying to keep his composure.
But he doesn't look away and I slowly move my head forward, still keeping eye contact as I place a gentle peck over the growing bulge in his slacks, causing his fists to shake by his side."So much so that, you had to go out to find another woman to satisfy your needs and make you hard?" I hum raising a brow.
But when I peer up at Alejandro, I know he's not listening to me, instead he's focused on my mouth as I slowly trace my tongue over my lips.
And then I glance back towards his fully hardened erection beneath his slacks and peer back up at him before slowly moving forward and peeking my tongue out to trail along his length, over his slacks.
I slowly move up along the long length and before I can even trail the entire thing he's throwing his head back with a groan.
A sign of defeat.
"Cazzo, you're fucking killing me, Principessa." He groans out, the sound so deep and pained, "You win." He breaths.
I smile and stand up before looking towards him. He slumps his shoulders, and plants one hand on the counter to hold himself up. My smile turns into a frown as I examine his face that's contoured in pain.
"Let me see?" I say softly, as he hesitantly nods allowing me to step forward and remove his blazer before I unbutton his dress shirt.
He's slouched and I can feel him dip his head down in defeat and fatigue, so much so that his shallow breathing hits my cheekbone.
I peek up to his face to see him already starring at me, his features telling me that he's exhausted. "It's nothing really. Pease just leave it." He murmurs, trying one last time.
I sigh softly and pause to look up into his eyes as I bring a hand up to lightly trace his cheek. "Please let me take care of you, just this once." I murmur quietly. 
He drops his head to rest his forehead against mine, as he shuts his eyes. His heavy breathing now fans across my lips as my steady breathing fans across his.
My eyes stay trained on his, waiting for him to fully give in and when he flutters his eyes back open they go straight to my lips. "Okay." He breathes, his eyes still trained to my lips and his voice nothing but a low murmur.
I want to cherish this moment, I want to believe that he wants to kiss me in a way thats more than what we have, but it's futile. I'm done playing into this useless game where he does something only to turn around and regret it.
So I turn my head and pull away from him, going back to unbuttoning his shirt as I focus on the blood seeping through the material of his white dress shirt.
I try to remain calm and not freak out but it's extremely hard when I pull his shirt to the side.
My horrified gaze moves back up to his in question, only he stares back at me with that look in his eyes. The one that tells me he's not going to tell me anything, and the one that warns me not to push it.
I return my gaze to his abdomen and hold my breath as I carefully slip his shirt off his shoulders and when I step back to access the damage it's even worse.
His well built upper body is glistening in a layer of sweat with a large bruise covering one side of his abdomen. Right above the tattoo, but that's not what has my breath catching in my throat.
It's the gash on his other side, it's no bigger than my hand but it looks deep and the shitty wrap he covered it in is doing little to contain the blood.
"You need to see a doctor." I breath, my hands instantly starting to shake. How could he just stand around while he had that the whole time?
He shakes his head. "I really don't, it's not that serious. Just get me the kit from over there." He grunts and I instantly listen moving towards the cupboard he's pointing to.
I return with the kit in less than a second and he rests one hand on the counter while he places the other on a nearby wall, giving me more access to his abdomen. He then lifts his head and his eyes look into mine. "You said you wanted to help?"
I only offer a nod before he continues. "You will listen and do everything I tell you to, yes?" He orders softly, raising a brow at me as he lightly grunts from the pain.
I swallow thickly grateful that he's being calm because I'm currently losing my shit. "Yes." I breath, my voice coming out shaky in comparison to his calm one. He's in charge here and I'm okay with it.
He nods towards his abdomen. "Take off the wrap." He instructs calmly. I start doing as I'm told before looking back up at him for reassurance and he's right there to nod at me, "Good girl, now take the disinfectant and start cleaning the wound." He says, his voice hoarse most likely from the pain.
I instantly get to work cleaning as he stands there and quietly grunts in pain, occasionally giving me little instructions and telling me what to do. His voice remains calm and soft which makes it easy for me to listen as he continues to walk me through stitching and closing the gash.
By the end when I feel like he's going to collapse, I help him to his bed and lay him down, before bringing some ice and cream for the bruises.
I go to take a seat in his bed and apply the cream but he stops me, shutting his eyes as he throws his head back with a groan. "As much as I'm thankful for this, baby." He says and I blink down at him. "I don't know how much more of that I can take."  He grunts in pain as he shifts continuing to look away.
But when his hand comes up to motion my chest, I look down and realize how I had yet to put my shirt back on. "Whoops." I laugh awkwardly, before moving back into the bathroom to slip my shirt back on. I was wondering why the bulge in his pants wasn't going down.
I return and take a seat on the edge of the bed. A comfortable silence settles between us and I can feel his eyes on me, but I'm too preoccupied with applying the cream on his bruise to pay any mind. But then I remember the demon roaming the halls.
"So, Greta has free reign over the mansion now?" I say casually, not looking up at him.
He sighs, "Cazzo. She's still here?" He asks, lazily and I can tell he's tired.
I want to smile but I don't. Instead I furrow my brows and look up at him. "Is the money really worth it, when she makes your life this miserable?" I say softly.
Alejandro purses his lips and I can tell he wants to say something but he thinks better of it. Instead he looks away. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me." I say, needing to know why he's keeping her around if she's this much of a bother.
Alejandro was a powerful man, one that didn't need to stoop to such lows to get shit done. There had to be more to the story.
He looks back to me and his eyes stare into mine but now he's got that same closed off, guarded look. "Drop it Camila." He states firmly and my mood drops.
I wasn't as upset as I usually was but I would be lying if I said a little part of me didn't want to cry at how easily he shut me down for her.
"Whatever. What's she doing here anyways." I mumble, letting it go. Investing myself in Alejandro emotionally was only going to make me miserable.
"She's staying the night because her family is coming to have lunch with us tomorrow." He says. I pause to look up at him and raise a brow in question. Why were they coming over,
But it seems like he takes my action the wrong way. "If you want to sleep in here with me, I'll make sure she stays in the guest room tonight." He offers genuinely, and my body tenses.
Was he serious?
He was planning on her sleeping in here unless I wanted to be next to him?
And why was he acting like sleeping next to him was only for my benefit. Like he was doing me a favour.
No fucking thanks.
Last I checked I was fine sleeping on my own these past few days without him.
I look up at him and shake my head. I try to snap my mouth shut, I really do but it doesn't work. "Sleeping together behind closed doors doesn't help in convincing everyone else you're in a relationship. You're getting played, Alejandro and you're letting her do it." I narrow my eyes at him. "Why?" I push.
I was genuinely curious and although a little part of me was scared he actually liked her I was more so curious why he let her act the way she did. He could put her in her place but he doesn't. Instead he lets her pull stunts like this.
His shoulders tense and I can tell there's more to the story, but instead it seems like he diverts the attention to something else. "You shouldn't be jealous of Greta."
I snap my head back up to his and blink in surprise, but he keeps going. "You have no need to be. You're the only important girl in my life and besides you're beautiful in your own way." He reasons sending me a reassuring smile.
I still my movements to make sure I heard him right. I know he didn't mean for it to come off so... backhanded but it did.
"Beautiful in my own way?" I narrow my eyes and scoff. "Do I look like someone that's just 'beautiful in my own way'?" I snap. I was more than just beautiful in my own way. Not to mention he made it seem like I was less beautiful than her.
I wasn't.
He just played into one of my insecurities and my defenses that were already up, skyrocket. "And I'm not jealous of her." I spit. "Do I fucking look like someone that gets jealous?" I say, signaling down to my body and appearance.
Maybe he was getting too comfortable with me because it seemed as though he forgot just how attractive I really was. He took it for granted but this was just too far. I was not someone that was given back handed complements.
Men threw themselves at my feet.
Why did he say it like that? Did he just tell me I was beautiful because he felt like he had to?
His brows furrow like he doesn't understand what my problem is and I only scoff and send him an insulted glare. It's like the dumbass finally comes to his senses because he cringes before his eyes widen up at me. "I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong." He says shutting his eyes and cursing under his breath.
No fucking shit Sherlock.
But I'm already riled up. "Yeah, whatever. Message received, loud and clear." I mumble, pursing my lips and realizing where I went wrong.
I went after a man for the first time and now he got too comfortable, so comfortable that he took my attention for granted.
Never again.
I didn't appreciate the way he just threw in that comment about being beautiful in my own way.
What the fuck?
Who did he think he was to say something so reckless and why was it affecting me so much?
He took something I was already so insecure about and unknowingly hit something deep within me. I hated how he had the power to make me feel like shit about myself with one stupid comment.
Not to mention he doesn't even realize just how horrible he made me feel.
"You sure you don't want to sleep in here with me?" He asks one final time, completely disregarding his earlier comments.
"No thanks." I say, gritting my teeth. 
And then he has the nerve to look disappointed.
My hands start to shake in anger, and the next thing I know I'm stopping everything and walking out of the room without another word.
Who the fuck says that to a person?
You're beautiful in your own way.
Fuck that, I was beautiful in every way.