The Sinister Silhouette-D2D, page 24
He gazes up at me, his eyes filled with profound need and fierce yearning. His voice is a tortured whisper when he speaks.
“I know I’ll probably go to hell for this, but goddamn, Jules, I want you so fucking much. I ache every time I’m around you, and I’m fucking miserable when I’m not.”
My heart constricts with his admission. It’s so wrong of me, but I feel the same way. Even after the first time I saw him when I woke up from my coma and I freaked out, he’s been on my mind. I don’t know what it is about him, but he intrigues me. There’s just been… something about him that draws me in and hasn’t let me go. I want to know him. All of him.
“Luca….”
His eyes flare and his hands constrict on me when I whisper his name. My own fingers grip his shoulders tighter. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs and the muscles in his jaw twitch. He’s struggling just as hard as I am with these unfamiliar feelings.
I gasp when his head falls to my lap, his forehead landing just below my private area. Hot breath fans through my jeans as he takes several deep breaths. I’m embarrassed when I think of him being so close to my pussy, because I know I’m wet and I wonder if he can smell it. The gravelly groan that leaves his lips makes me think he can.
Of their own accord, my hands move from his shoulders to his back. He feels hard beneath my fingers, and it only makes me want to lift his shirt and explore his bare flesh. His groan deepens and his head presses further into my lap. I barely suppress my moan when his nose pushes against my jeans, right over the wet spot I know my panties carry.
My gaze once again lands on the band in his hair. Feeling bold, I carefully pull his hair loose then sift my fingers through the soft strands.
He lifts his head and his arms loosen around me, but his hands slide under the bottom of my shirt, touching my bare flesh. His eyes look wild and so damn beautiful as he stares up at me.
“This is wrong.” His voice is low and rough.
“I know,” I say, just as quietly.
“I shouldn’t want you.”
Although his words hurt a part of me, I know why he feels the way he does. I’m his brother’s wife and we barely know each other. I’m surprised when the thought of our past doesn’t even cross my mind.
I nod.
His fingers bite into my flesh. Not painfully, but erotically.
“I should be put down for the things I want to do to you.”
At that, I shake my head and tighten my fingers in his hair. It may be wrong of us to share these feelings, but they aren’t there because we want them to be. We can’t help the way we feel.
“No,” I tell him and slide my hands from his hair to his neck. “Because I feel the same way.”
His jaw clenches and his hands twitch against my sides, as if he’s fighting for some type of control.
“Why does it feel so right when it’s so wrong?”
His question is rhetorical, not to mention clichéd, but it fits our situation to a T, because what we’re feeling is wrong, but feels so right at the same time. Why does this have to be so difficult? Why do I feel such a strong connection to him? And why couldn’t I have been with him seven years ago instead of Theo?
Loud voices come from the front of the shop and it breaks the spell between us. With one last look of longing, he pushes back from me and comes to his feet. I blink several times to push away the haze of desire still coursing through me. My eyes avoid his as I stand.
Quietly, I walk out of the room and back to the front. My legs are shaky and my hands tremble, but I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Luca
I’M IN BED WITH MY hands folded behind my head, staring at the dark ceiling. My mind plays over the last few days since Jules has been here, and my body tightens in need. I ignore the desire to wrap my hands around my cock. I still feel like a fucking bastard for thinking of her in a carnal way, but it’s getting harder and harder to resist. She’s so goddamn sweet and tempting.
She’s gone to work with me the last three days because I refuse to leave her at the house, but since the first day after Garrett left the room, we haven’t been alone there. I don’t know if it’s by design or coincidence, only that it’s better that way. The more I’m around her, the more I want her. And I’m not just talking about her body. I want everything from her.
That day in the room after she touched up my ink was one of the hardest days of my fucking life. Being so close to her, touching her, breathing in her scent, especially her arousal, also makes it one of the best days of my life. It took every ounce of my strength, plus some, to keep from sliding her shirt up and licking along her skin or yanking her forward and grinding her pussy against my chest. Or fuck, stripping her bare and feasting on every inch of her. It surprised the shit out of me when I realized she wanted me too. I could smell her essence when my head was in her lap and it drove me fucking insane.
It’s still hard to believe she’s here, under my roof, sleeping only feet away from me. Even though the circumstances for her being here still send fire through my veins, I can’t help but like that she’s so close.
Yeah, I’m a fucking bastard.
My head jerks to the open door to my bedroom when I hear a noise. I sit up and listen closely. There’s a whimper, then a small cry. My feet are already on the floor by the time I throw the covers off. Not taking the time to put on a shirt or sweats over my briefs, I quickly make my way across the room, out into the hallway, and stop at Jules’s closed door. I’ve kept my bedroom door open since she started staying here, but I always make sure hers is closed when I pass by it. I know the temptation to go inside would be too much if it were left open.
Another small cry comes from her room, and I turn the knob and push open her door. I don’t worry there’s an intruder in the house. I know this pained cry. I’ve heard it for the past three nights. She’s in the middle of a nightmare. The first night it happened, I thought she was in pain or someone had broken in and was hurting her. When I burst into the room, she was thrashing in bed. It wasn’t someone attacking her, but her mind. Whatever nightmare she was having had its claws in her deep. It was painful to witness. Every night it’s been painful to watch, because for some reason I know they have to be of me and what I did to her. That’s why I’m here, forcing myself to watch as she struggles, even though it kills something inside me. This is my punishment.
I’ve learned that Jules is a hard sleeper. The two previous nights I had to call her name several times and gently run my hand along her forehead and cheek to wake her. I didn’t want to startle her by shaking her. She never fully wakes up, but she does settle, her face once again relaxing in sleep. I always stand and watch over her until I know the nightmare has loosened its tight grip on her. I don’t know if she remembers me coaxing her out of her dream in the mornings. She’s never mentioned it.
I stare down at her pinched face, her head tossing on the pillow, and it’s too much for me to watch. I drop to my knees beside the bed and lift my hand to her face.
“Jules,” I say softly, my voice a hoarse rasp. I run my fingers along the wrinkles on her forehead. “Shh….”
As soon as my fingers touch her skin, her cries turn back to whimpers. Her head turns toward me, and the light from the hallway illuminates her beautiful face. Her skin looks alabaster. Her thick lashes rest against her cheeks and her full lips are a soft pink. What I wouldn’t give to have the right to press my lips against hers, to soothe away her nightmares by making her forget them with my body.
When I run my fingers down her cheek, she lets out a breathy sigh, her lips staying parted. I stay this way, me on my knees and my fingers smoothing over her soft skin, for I don’t know how long. Although I’m there to soothe her, being here calms something inside me too.
My knees start to ache, so I take my hand away and get to my feet. She hasn’t made any more noises in a while, so I know the dream has left her and it’s time for me to go back to bed. When I turn away, I’m surprised when I’m stopped with a hand on my wrist.
“Don’t go.” Her soft voice reaches my ears. When I turn back, her eyes are open and she’s staring up at me. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
I fight with myself, because this shit is dangerous. Being around her in the light of day is one thing, I can control my urges. But here in the dark, I’m not so sure.
“Please.” Her plea is soft and broken, and I know there’s no way I can deny her.
When I make a move to get back down on the floor, her stilted words stop me.
“Will you… will you lie with me?”
A groan nearly escapes my throat. She has no fucking clue what she’s asking of me.
I eye the small twin bed. There’s no way in hell we’ll both fit on there. Making a decision, one I hope isn’t a big mistake, I bend down and scoop her up into my arms. She sucks in a startled breath but relaxes against me as I carry her out of the room. Her hands are warm as she curls one arm around my neck and places her other hand on my bare shoulder.
“We both won’t fit in that bed,” I explain and carry her into my room.
My bed is a fuck of a lot bigger. I carry her to my side and gently put her down. She stares up at me as I contemplate putting on at least a shirt. In the end, her doleful eyes have me urging her to move over and climbing into bed with her. I pull the blanket over us both. She turns away from me, and before I can think better of it, I mold my chest to her back, and hope like fuck she’s okay with it. I keep my hips away from her ass, because my stupid fucking cock has taken notice of the warm body against me and has decided he wants to snuggle too.
I wrap one arm around her waist and one under the pillow behind her head, and I swear it’s one of the best feelings in the world. It’s so much better than I’ve imagined it would be. Her hands grip my arm, as if she’s trying to tighten my hold around her. Unashamedly, I bury my face in her hair and breathe in deep. Even her hair smells like wildflowers.
I pull my face away so she can hear me. “Is this okay?”
It takes her a moment to answer, and I’m just about to move away from her when she replies, “Yes.” Then adds, “Thank you.”
I use my chin to push away her hair that’s stuck in the prickles on my face. As much as I don’t want to hear her confirm that her nightmares are of me hurting her, I still ask, “Your dreams… do you want to talk about them?”
Her fingers dig into my forearms for a moment before they relax.
“There’s not much to talk about.” She stops and pulls in a breath, her ribs expanding against my arm. “I don’t remember what happened in my dream, except for being scared and hurt.”
The painful sound of her voice has my eyes closing, and I silently curse myself to hell. Why she’s lying here, willingly allowing her tormentor to hold her, is beyond me. She should be terrified. She should be kicking and screaming for me to let her go. She should be running scared and praying she never sees my face again. But she’s not. She’s here, her arms pressed against mine, holding me just as tightly as I’m holding her.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter. I know I’ve said it before, but no matter how many times those words leave my lips, it’ll never be enough. There’s nothing I could ever do to make up for what I’ve done.
She’s quiet after that, so I stay quiet as well. After a while, her breathing evens out, and I know she’s asleep. Sleep isn’t something I’ll get tonight. Not only because I literally have the girl of my dreams in my arms, but also because of the misery raging inside me. After all the years of dreaming of this woman, of watching the pain flash in her eyes and her screams of agony, of being angry that she took over my dreams and left me with so many unanswered questions, and of discovering I was the reason she was in a coma because of some weird obsession, I finally know what it feels like to hold something so precious I’d give my life for it.
And Lord fucking help me, I’m not sure I can ever let it go.
I COME AWAKE TO feel hot breath on my chest and a slender arm lying over my stomach. Looking down, there’s a head of thick brown hair spread across my chest and onto the pillow. Memories of the night before flash through my head.
My arm is still around her waist, but my palm has moved down to just above her ass. My other hand is on top of hers that’s lying flat against my lower stomach. My dick is as hard as iron. I blame it on natural morning wood, but it’s a fucking lie. It’s from the woman who is quickly consuming my every thought.
She shifts in her sleep, and a warm rush of breath fans across my skin, causing goose bumps to appear. Never has a woman affected me so quickly.
I know she just woke up because her chest stops rising and falling. I hold still, not sure how she’s going to take being wrapped around me. Last night, her emotions were high from her nightmare. There’s no excuse this morning for our cozy position. I should have taken her back to her bed once she fell asleep and I knew her dreams weren’t coming back, but I’m a selfish bastard and wanted to relish in having her in my bed.
After a few tense moments, her head moves, and she lifts her eyes to mine. Uncertainty pulls her brows into a frown.
“Good morning,” I say, hoping to put her at ease.
She licks her lips and murmurs softly, “Good morning.”
I sift my fingers through her long hair. “How did you sleep?”
“Better once I was in here.” Pretty pink tints her cheeks at her confession. It makes me feel ten fucking feet tall, knowing I’m the reason she felt better, even if I was also the reason for her distress.
“Are you hungry?”
Her answer is a nod, then a whispered, “Yes.”
I expect her to move away, so when she lays her head back down, it surprises me. What surprises me even more, and sends raging blood to my already stiff cock, is when the tip of her finger flicks one of my nipple rings.
I hiss out a breath and her fingers stop. Closing my eyes, I will my body to calm the fuck down.
“Did… uh… it hurt when you got your nipples pierced?” she asks hesitantly.
“Yes,” I answer. “Like a bitch.”
Her breath fans against my chest when she giggles.
“Why do it then?” Her finger traces the ball on one before moving to the other and doing the same.
“Because it feels really fucking good when they’re played with.”
Her fingers stop again, and it takes her a moment, but then she lets out a breathy, “Oh.”
I smile, because I know her cheeks are probably blazing right now.
When she moves away to the pillow beside us, I lift up on an elbow and gaze down at her. Unable to help myself, I interlock our fingers together and kiss the back of her hand. Desire pools in her eyes, and the look ramps up my need. I place both of our hands beside her head.
Her amber eyes are soft with sleep, but still hold the same heat I feel running through me.
When her free hand flattens against my pecs, one of the strings around my control snaps. I keep my eyes on hers as I slowly lower my head. Her eyes are wide, but there’s no fear, so I close the distance between our mouths.
I’ve fantasized about how she would taste for weeks, but never in my wildest dreams did my imagination do it justice. Even just her lips taste heavenly. A groan rumbles from my chest. My tongue peeks out and runs along the seam of her mouth.
This is such a fucking mistake, but at the moment I don’t have the willpower to stop. The need to know what it’s like to kiss her is too great.
When she parts her lips, my tongue dives inside. My dick pulses in my briefs when her tongue hesitantly meets mine. Her fingers bite into the flesh on my shoulders.
Fuck, I could kiss her all day long and never want to stop. This woman is my addiction, my obsession, and I could so easily get lost in her and never want to find my way out.
With a will made of iron, I lift my head, not wanting to frighten or push her. Her eyes are glazed over with lust.
“You get dressed, and I’ll cook us breakfast.”
“Okay,” she says breathlessly.
As sick as it is, I wonder if she responded to Theo all those years ago the way she just responded to me. I shake my head, because it only pisses me off to think of Theo’s hands on her.
With a smile and a small peck to her nose, I climb from the bed. Her sharp intake of breath alerts me that she saw the hard-on I have going and the piercing I have on the tip of my cock. I keep my back to her and slip on a pair of sweatpants before grabbing a shirt.
She still has her watchful eyes on me as I walk out of the room. I take care of business in the bathroom, then leave. A quick look inside my bedroom as I walk by shows her still in bed. I want to go back and join her, but I barely held on to my control a few moments ago. I don’t want to test my restraint.
I put on a pot of coffee, then grab out the ingredients to make omelets. I’m at the stove, flipping the eggs, when I feel her enter the room. I set the spatula down and turn around. She’s standing just inside the doorway, her expression uncertain, but no less beautiful. She’s changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a turquoise shirt. Her hair is falling down loose around her shoulders. Her feet are bare, and they look sexy as fuck with their pale blue polish. Aria told me the other day they did their own manicures and pedicures.
I tip my chin to the bar. “Take a seat. These are almost finished.”
As she sits, I pour some coffee in a mug, doctor it the way she likes, then carry it to her. My hands itch to grab her up and kiss the shit out of her, but I don’t want to freak her out. She’s been okay with our touching up until this point, but I don’t know what my limit is. I need to be careful with her.
