Page 25 of Bump in the Night


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“You’re okay, baby.” I scoop her into my arms, carry her over to the black velvet settee and brush her hair from her hot cheeks until her breathing starts to come back to normal. “Nothing is going to hurt you, I promise.”

“Is this just a game? Are you real? I think I’m going crazy.” She knots her fingers in her hair, fear and confusion on her beautiful face. “This Worthington family…they are just playing with all of us. The rich can do that. Toy with desperate people.”

It makes me irrationally angry to see her like this. Whoever is behind it all, they’ll feel every ounce of my wrath.

“It’s not a game…” Fuck, that’s a lie. “Listen, I promise everything is going to be okay.”

I come clean. Well, mostly clean.

I tell her about the manor and the contest, which she knows. I tell her I’m a member of the Worthington family, a distant member, here to help supervise the contest. I leave out the props and set-ups we put in place to scare the contestants, and that it was my idea to do it this way so I could eventually gain control of the property. None of that matters anymore and I don’t give a shit about the property. Or anything except her.

“So, last night…” She draws her brows together, her lips tight, then she finishes. “That was real? I did…we did those things.”

“Yes. But more important, we felt those things. I don’t understand it all, sweet one, but you are real. I am real. What happened with us is real. I’m not going to try to figure it all out right now.”

“I’m just beyond confused right now.”

“Sorry, baby. Maybe this will help.” I mount my lips on hers and feel her body freeze. I’m slow, tender, and when I swoop my tongue through her lips, I hear her sigh and the ache in my cock multiplies a thousand times with the memory of her moans last night.

Once I feel her soften, I pull back, swiping the backs of my fingers over her cheeks.

“I hate these tears. I hate them all. If you never cry again, it would make me a happy man.”

“What if they are happy tears?” She smiles, and my heart feels like it’s going to beat through my chest.

“We’ll see. I’m still not recovered from these sad tears, so I don’t want to retraumatize myself too soon.”

“Fine.” She pouts, squinting at me. “I remember everything last night, you know. You said some things…”

“I did. I meant them all.” I look around the room, wondering who lit the fire, who set this up, and if it was the contest crew, like I said, I’ll have their balls, but there’s an odd feeling that might not be the case.

“What is this room?” She looks around with me. “When I came in, I felt warm, then there was this like…I don’t know, sinister chill, it felt so sad, like grief, then I couldn’t get out. But now, with you here, that’s all gone. I feel that warm, familiar feeling again. Like I’ve been here…and like I know you.”

“Me too. I mean, that it’s familiar. And I feel like I’ve known you for lifetimes, Delia. That, I don’t understand, but what I do understand is I want to be with you for a lifetime. Or ten. Or a hundred. Whatever we’re given.”

I stand up, pulling her with me, sweeping my arms down hers until I have her hands, feeling my pulse down low in my balls.

“I feel like we’ve been in here before,” she whispers, saying what I’m thinking.

“Me too. Like it was our special place.” I step forward, moving her with me until I’ve got her backed up against the wall next to the hidden entry.

“What made it special?” The twist in her smile tells me her fear is gone, and I hope it’s replaced by the same thing I’m feeling.

Lust.

“It was the first place I fucked you.” The lamp in the corner of the room flickers, drawing her eyes for a moment, but they dart back to mine.

I’ve got the ruffled hem of her pink dress clenched in my fingers as I graze them against her thigh, pulling it upward.

“Is that so?” She laughs, then gasps as I slide my other hand under the chiffon and take a handful of pussy, gripping hard.

“It is.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls you have ghost sexy times with.” Her voice is light but I hear the doubt, the little girl that needs my assurance, and I’ll give her that and more.

I shake my head, brushing my hand against the slip of fabric between her legs, and I’m met by a wet heat that makes me growl.

“No other girls, Delia. You’re the only one who has my attention. The only one who has ever had my attention if I’m being truthful.”

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