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A soft, teasing smile pulls at her lips, one that I can’t resist tasting as I nudge the tip of my nose over hers and skim my tongue across her plump pout. She’s too sweet and too supple. Before I can stop myself, I lick into her mouth, tugging her closer as she moans, twisting her grasp on my top.
What’s wrong with me? How can I still want her so desperately that my body is fighting my head as it reminds me of how we ended up here. I’m not right for Eve. I’m not the kind of lover she needs.
Sucking her lip into my mouth for one last taste of her, I pull away slowly, releasing her mouth only when it’s impossible to keep kissing her without hurting her again.
“Henry,” she sobs quietly, holding on tighter when I attempt to step away. “I’ve done my research. I’ve read about it, asked the right people questions…”
“Tonight—”
“Was always going to be like this for me. At least you didn’t think you were going to catch something from me.”
“Now’s not the time to joke.” A few hours ago, she looked like death. From the panic in her eyes, I’m fairly certain she thought that might be a possibility. “These matters are never for joking.”
“These matters?” she laughs, shaking her head at me while her hands palm over my chest. “You know, if we’re going to be whatever we are, we’re going to have to work on getting some of those plums out of your mouth.”
“Why don’t you focus on sleep first?” I pick her up in my arms and take her back to bed.
“Will you stay with me?”
“I’m not going anywhere, darling.” There are a million and one things running through my head, making it hard to form a single coherent thought. But if there’s one thing that prevails over the rest, it’s that I don’t want to let her out of my sight.
I don’t care that the bed doesn’t look big enough for the two of us. Toeing off my boots, I lie back against the headboard and pull Eve onto me so that she’s lying over me.
“Rest now,” I tell her as I pull the duvet over her shivering form.
It’s one in the morning as I turn off the light on my phone, and even though my head is pounding with a million and one different things I need to be doing right now, I can’t bring myself to leave. Even if I’m uncomfortable and out of place, there’s no other place I need to be but here.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EVE
“Don’t fucking move!”
The yell startles me from my sleep. With my head still heavy from my episode last night, it’s hard to get my eyes to focus past the golden haze screened by the curtains.
“Don’t.” Henry’s arms tighten around me when I try to sit up. “You’ll set off the trigger.”
It takes a moment for me to process what’s happening, but I freeze the instant it hits. Night terrors. Joe had them all the time when he came back from deployment. His were so bad that he would sleepwalk through the house, hiding behind furniture like he was in a war zone, ready to shoot out.
Taking a deep breath, I try to relax. It’s not the easiest thing to do when everything in me tells me to protect myself from him. Slowly, he’s settling, but his hold on me doesn’t ease for a long while. All I can do is wait and breathe, try to stay calm even though I know he’s bigger and stronger than me. I’ve felt his unforgiving force.
Eventually, Henry’s arms relax around me. His tense body sinks into the mattress before he wakes up. My back is to him, but I sense his confusion as he gets his bearings. Slowly, it fades to alarm. Disregarding everything I learnt about PTSD with Joe, I steady my breathing, making it deeper as I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep.
I’m not ready for Henry to pull away from me yet. I know that he will eventually, so for now, I’m going to hold on to him any way I can.
When Henry rolls onto his back, I turn in to face him with a yawn. He stiffens as I blink my eyes open, but before he closes himself off, I smile. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
“Eve,” he replies with a curl of his arm, rolling me onto his chest. His heart is hammering hard and fast. I can feel it beat its unrelenting rhythm into my ear as one hand squeezes my hip and the other presses the side of my face deeper into his chest. “How do you feel?”
“Okay.” I resist the urge to chuckle at his grumble at my reply. “I’m good.”
“You still look tired.” Cupping my jaw lightly, his thumb strokes over my cheek when I tip my head back to look at him.
The pounding of his heart has barely slowed when he sits up, manoeuvring me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him. Both of his hands grasp my face lightly. I’ve never known him to be this gentle in our entire time together.
“Last night,” he starts, causing my heart to drop deep into my stomach.
This is it. I can see the regret in his eyes as he thumbs my hair from my face and sucks in a steadying breath. My hands flatten on his chest as I try to get my last feel of him. There’s no going back to normal after last night. We can’t go back or undo any of it. The only way to move forward is by walking away.
