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I snatched her wrist and pinned it above her head. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She blinked as if she wasn’t entirely sure—almost as if she’d moved without thinking, driven by the same urges I drowned beneath. Her gaze darted over my bare chest, no doubt seeing a few of the scars I’d earned in my childhood. Innocent scars from doing innocent things. Unlike the fresh one on my thigh where I’d tried to butcher myself.
“Sorry I…” Licking her lips, she shrugged a little. “You have lint on your cheek.”
My cock bruised as it nudged against my belt. I hadn’t even kissed her, yet this moment was somehow the hottest, rawest of my life.
Feeling her beneath me.
The smallness of her.
The rightness of her.
It was too much.
Too addictive.
Far, far too addictive.
Get off.
Now!
Loosening my fingers from her wrist, I went to shift away, but her hips went with mine as if they were bound together. Her delicate hand landed on my bare side, sending electricity frying through my blood.
Moaning as deliciously as she had in her sleep, she arched and kept us pressed where we definitely shouldn’t be pressed.
I choked on a groan.
I fought all kinds of urges.
Instantly her cheeks turned into red, red roses.
Dropping her eyes, she tore her hand off me, leaving an imprint of her fingers in my motherfucking soul.
“Sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that. God—” Her bottom lip wobbled, and if she dared fucking cry, I’d have her on her knees and my cock down her throat before the first tear fell.
“I keep ruining this.” She looked to the side, her entire chest going pink. “I-I keep expecting things that aren’t real. Forgive me.”
I tried to move. I really did. But my cock ached where it pressed against her. The thought of removing myself from that sweet, sweet heaven was utterly impossible.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I muttered, keeping my voice low so the cameras didn’t hear but also because I honestly had no breath left inside me.
“No. It’s not. I-I still feel awful about kissing you.”
My teeth clamped together. It took effort to speak around the clench. “And I feel awful for having to fuck you.”
I’d expected that vague apology to give her peace of mind.
It did the opposite.
Her lips twisted with grief, unable to make eye contact. “I know this must be so hard for you. I know you’re struggling just as much as I am.”
What the fuck?
What the hell made her think sleeping with her was hard? Christ, that was the only thing keeping me going. Despite it being borderline abusive and covered in all kinds of wrong, it wasn’t a hardship to be with her.
I wanted to ask her to speak plainly.
