Fuck me, I’d done it. I’d told her everything.
She just looked at me, stunned.
And all I could do was sit and wait for the fallout, but not
then, and not there. She would find me when she was ready, and I’d feel so much better about doing it in our room. At least within the relative safety of those four walls maybe she wouldn’t get the urge to push me down the fucking stairs.
I dropped my arms in defeat and started the long trek up to the second floor. My legs felt heavy, my feet like cement blocks as I took one step at a time, willing myself to walk away. Everything inside me screamed to go the opposite direction, to sweep her up into my arms and run like a madman, carrying her away from everything to someplace where the outside world couldn’t interfere anymore.
That was the dreamer in me. The realist, he knew we couldn’t hide from anything anymore.
With every step I took down the corridor that led to our room, the distance to the door seemed to lengthen, but I finally made it. Leaden arms grasped the knob and gave it a turn, opening up to the place where we’d first consummated our relationship. Even I had to scoff at that. “Consummated”—the word sounded far too clean for what had actually happened there. More like I had damned it, doomed it to failure from the very fucking beginning.
I shed my jacket, throwing it to the side like it was a dirty washcloth instead of the expensive tailor-made masterpiece that it was. I didn’t care. There was far more catastrophic shit going on in my life for me to worry about whether or not a jacket got a crease in it. Catastrophe number one: I owned a sex slave. Catastrophe number two: I’d fallen in love with said sex slave. Catastrophe number three: said sex slave had a dying mother whom I was keeping her away from. Catastrophe number
four: I knew all of that and still fucked her like a goddamn animal on the stairs.
Grabbing my pack of cigarettes, I loped over to the couch and slumped onto the cushions. The flame from my lighter cast an orange glow over the otherwise darkened room as I lit my cigarette and exhaled the smoke in an exaggerated fashion. The nicotine calmed me, and God knew I needed it. I was ready to explode, ready to tear down my parents’ home with my bare hands until there was nothing left but a pile of rubble. Because that was what my life had become. Fucking rubble.
I hauled my ass off the couch and stripped out of the rest of my clothes, badly in need of a shower. My clothes landed wherever I was when I discarded them, because again, they didn’t matter. I made my way into the bathroom, not bothering with the light because I didn’t want to see myself in the mirror. Images from that day in my bathroom were already on a constant replay in my hyperaware mind, reminding me of just how alike David Stone and I really were. I didn’t need to see that again.
What was wrong with me? The more I tried not to be like him, the more I was. I’d fucked her on the goddamn stairs, for Christ’s sake. Fucked her without any emotion, fucked her without giving her any pleasure, fucked her and then left her there, but not before I admitted how I’d fucked her over.
I stepped into the shower without first letting the water warm, because ice water on the boys was not a pleasant thing, but that was what I deserved. All I really wanted was to relax to the point where I could drift off into a coma, so I wouldn’t have to feel the ache that had set up camp in my heart. But
what I wanted and what I needed were two completely different things. I needed to face what I had done. I needed to stand before Delaine and take it like a man while she reamed my ass for snooping in her business. I needed to look her in the eye when I apologized for stealing her virtue. I needed to watch her walk out of my life with no hope of ever seeing her again. And I needed to feel the heartbreak of losing her.
Emotionally and mentally exhausted, I leaned my head against the wall, using my forearm as a prop, and just let the water cascade over my body. I’d hoped the shower would somehow wash away the filth that was festering on the inside, staining my soul, but that wasn’t possible, unless I could somehow find a way to turn my skin inside out. Even still, mere soap and water would have never done the trick. Hell, I doubted bleach would have touched it.
All I could see was the way she’d looked as she stepped down those stairs earlier in the night. The way her hips had swayed and the slit of her dress had parted to reveal the creamy smoothness of her leg. How soft her skin had been when I’d put that necklace on her. The way she’d tasted when she brushed her lips against mine in gratitude. And I could still smell her. Jesus, the mere memory of it all gave me a hard-on. I wished things could’ve been different. I wished that instead of standing there, wallowing in my own guilt, I could have been holding her and she could have been holding me.
But I’d ruined it. I’d ruined her, and I’d ruined me.
In the darkness, my disoriented mind actually began to play tricks on me. I swear I felt her hands wrap around my chest from behind, and a gentle kiss being placed on the center of
my back. And to make the mindfuckery even worse, her scent settled around me again, heavy and more potent in the hot steam. My cock naturally reacted to the presence that wasn’t there, and I wondered how long it would take before he and I got over her.
“Please turn around.” I would have thought she was actually there, except her voice sounded so meek and unsure. That was when I knew it had to be an illusion of her that I had only created in my mind. “Noah, please? You can’t run away from me after ignoring me for days, making me think I’d done something wrong, and then telling me something like that.”
Yeah, that was definitely Delaine. The only reason that she could possibly be there was to snap my dick off and shove it up my ass for snooping in her business. There was no running from her. I had to face her wrath because she had me cornered. And I deserved every single bit of what she was about to say and do to me.
I slowly turned around, my eyes having finally adjusted to the darkness, but no amount of adjustment was going to allow me to see her when there was absolutely no light source in the bathroom to begin with.
“I know, and I’m sor—”
I didn’t even get a chance to finish my apology before I felt her body pressed against mine, and fuck me, she was naked. I might have expected that, because that was absolutely something she would have done, but I didn’t expect that kiss. Her lips began to caress my own—delicate, tender, un-fucking-believable. It was the sweetest damn kiss I believe I’d ever received.
I threaded my fingers through her hair, deepening the connection and memorizing the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she smelled, because I had no way of knowing if I’d ever get the chance to experience any of it again.
Christ, I loved her.
Her hands were all over me, her fingertips pressing into the skin of my chest, my back, my arms. It was like she was leaving permanent impressions everywhere she touched me. And at the same time she was trying to get closer. If it were possible, I would have opened up my goddamn chest and let her crawl inside, sealing her away and carrying her with me always.
The fucked-up thing was that I just didn’t get why she was doing it.
And then she broke the kiss. I could feel her chest rising and falling, heard her labored breaths, felt the warmth of them against my wet skin.
She laid her head on the spot over my heart. “Make love to me, Noah. Just once, let me know what it feels like to be loved by you.”
I knew I should’ve refused, but behind the façade I was a weak man—only for her—and I wanted her to know the truth of my words. But not in a damn shower, and not where I couldn’t see her face.
I kissed the top of her head before nudging her back so that I could lift her chin for a soft kiss to her supple lips. Then I shut off the water, slid my hands over the curve of her ass, and lifted her to straddle my waist. Delaine linked her fingers behind my neck and pressed her forehead to mine as I stepped out of the shower and carried her into our room.
Her eyes never left mine as I walked her to the bed. It was still dark, but the storm outside had ceased and the clouds were sparse enough to allow her creamy skin to be bathed in the moonlight that filtered in through the windows. As I laid her upon the bed, I realized that she had so much in common with that heavenly body that hung so prominently in the pitch-black sky. She, alone, stood out amongst a sea of stars, outshining even the brightest of them. She was right there, but try as I might, I couldn’t really reach her. I’d been given this one chance, this one rocket ship into outer space, and I wasn’t going to waste it.
My heart pounded in my ears so loudly that I knew she could hear it. I was terrified, afraid that she would see me for the coward I really was and not the self-assured man I’d worked so hard to become. To give her what she wanted, I’d have to bare it all, strip down to nothing and leave myself completely vulnerable. And I would do it … for her. Hell, I would have given her anything that she asked for. If she wanted my arm, she could take it. My leg? She could have it. My heart? My soul? They were already hers.
As I crawled into the bed and lay on my side next to her, I stroked her cheek, letting my finger drift down the side of her neck. She shivered under my touch and I realized that I’d left her wet, like the moron that I was, and she was cold. When I reached for the sheets to cover her body, she stopped me with a hand to my forearm.
“It’s not from the cold,” she whispered with a delicate smile. My heart did a flip-flop in my chest.
I captured Delaine’s lips with mine as I hovered over her,
careful to rest my weight on my elbow. The back of my hand continued its journey over her shoulder, sweeping past the curve of her breast and then down her side before coming to rest on her hip. Every dip, every curve reminded me of how truly precious she was, or at least should have been. She deserved to be worshipped, to be revered.
I covered her right thigh with mine, slipping my knee between her legs as she angled herself toward me. The palm of her hand slid over my ribs and she urged me closer as my tongue swept across her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She didn’t hesitate. The tip of her tongue came out and greeted mine, like a woman embracing her lover after oceans and years of separation.
My knuckles ghosted over the soft skin of her stomach, traveling further upward to skim one hardened peak of her full breasts. She moaned into my mouth and arched her back, begging for more.
I broke from the kiss, my lips forging a trail over her delicate jaw line and down her slender neck to her collarbone where I sucked at her skin gently, because this wasn’t about marking her. She wasn’t my territory or my plaything. This was about loving her the way she deserved to be loved.
Delaine held on to my bicep, her fingertips dragging down my arm and onto my chest, leaving fire in their wake. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert, each touch from her sending shock waves of pleasure straight to my nether region. She could do that to me; whether we were role-playing vamps in my entertainment room, making out like exhibitionists in the back of my limo, or cooking bacon in my kitchen;
she could do that to me. I was putty in her capable hands, and it would never be the same for me with anyone else.
I pulled her hand to my mouth and gave her palm an openmouthed kiss before placing it over my heart so that she could feel the heavy thump, thump, thump. That was for her, and I conveyed as much with my eyes.
With one gentle kiss to her succulent lips, I dipped my head and captured one of her pert nipples with my mouth, swirling my tongue around the raised bud until she took in a deep breath, bringing herself even closer. I sucked the sensitive skin into my mouth and flicked at it with my tongue, nuzzling her. One of Delaine’s hands was in my hair, the other gripping my shoulder and holding me to her. She was forced to relinquish her hold somewhat as I turned toward her other breast, wanting to shower it with equal attention.
I gave her nipple a soft kiss and then moved down her body, covering every inch of skin with my mouth and hands. No part of her would be left untouched. As I slipped my hand behind her knee and lifted her leg over my hip, I rolled my groin against her. It was an involuntary reaction to her closeness. I hadn’t meant to do it, but judging from the moan that escaped her lips and the way she pushed back, she hadn’t minded it at all. In fact, her hand slid down my back until she was cupping my ass and pressing me closer. The heat of her arousal coming into contact with my cock was nearly my undoing. So I pulled back, hushing her whimper of protest as I moved down her body and spread her legs to accommodate my shoulders.
I loved that she was always bare for me—bare, warm, and oh so wet. Keeping my gaze locked with hers, I placed a soft
kiss at the apex of her folds. She closed her eyes, bit down on her lip, and let her head fall back into the pillow. A ripple effect went through her body; her back arched, her stomach rolled, and her hips surged forward to bring her center even closer to where I wanted her to be. So I took her offer, dipping my head and partaking of her delicious fruit while letting her juices coat my lips, my tongue, my face.
“Noah …”
My name sounded like a desperate plea as it fell from Delaine’s lips. Her hips rose and fell and she laced her fingers through my hair, enclosing her thighs around my shoulders. Not to smother me, but to cocoon and keep me where she wanted. She propped a tiny foot on my shoulder and slid her soft sole down my back and over the curve of my ass before retracing her path again and again. I slipped two fingers inside her, curling them back and forth, in and out while I licked, sucked, and kissed every inch of her precious heaven. And then, all too soon, she shuddered under my manipulations. Her thighs went taut, her hips stopped moving, her hands tugged on my hair, and she let out this sound that I will never,
ever
forget. It wasn’t loud—Delaine was never overtly loud when she came—but it was animalistic, like a lioness’s purr as she bathed in the evening sun after having filled her belly.
I could feel the wetness gathering on the head of my cock, threatening to seep out prematurely, and that would never do. I ignored my own desire to satiate my needs, wanting to bring her to the brink once again so that I could watch as she fell over the edge of the cliff. My tongue and fingers continued to work her, guiding her through her orgasm until another one followed closely on its heels.