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She sighed, and I did too. We were closer than ever, skin to skin. Our forearms melding together as our beating hearts found synchronicity between our breaths. I wanted her. And the realization was so overpowering at that moment, I didn’t know what to do with it. It had been a long time since I’d wanted anything.
She turned her face toward mine, her breath blowing across my chest as she spoke. “You’re burning up again. Do you have a fever?”
I wished I could say that I did, but that wasn’t my problem. My problem was that it should have felt wrong when I lowered my face to hers. It should have felt dirty when my lips dragged against hers and froze there. She should have pulled away, and I should have stopped. But neither of us moved. And when my fingers found the tender flesh of her throat, I drew her closer, tasting what was never meant to be mine.
She didn’t make a sound. Her lips parted on a silent gasp, and I inhaled her breath. I dug my fingers into her skin and hated myself for doing this to her. For wanting her. My cock was hard and long, and my thoughts were short.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t.
My lips broke away from hers. She was swollen from my kiss, and I was emptier than I thought a broken man could be. But for the first time in a decade, I remembered what it was like to be whole.
THE SHOWER WAS ALREADY RUNNING in the bathroom when the alarm on the nightstand went off. I rolled onto my back with a groan, covering my face with my arm as the offending sunlight streamed through the curtain.
I was not a morning person. For so long, my days had been dictated by me. I could sleep in as long as I wanted, and I could work when I wanted. I decided everything because I was the captain of my own ship. I lived a hedonistic lifestyle, and I didn’t regret it. But my life had taken a complete one eighty since Lucian barged onto my ship and took the wheel.
A glance at the clock, confirmed it was seven a.m., and I knew that Lucian got up every day at six thirty. I was surprised he wasn’t already in here, freshly showered and dressed, prodding me to get up.
Curiosity drove me to my feet, and I caved in to my urge to see what he was doing. It was none of my business, and already, the lines between us were blurring. From cuddling me every night to kissing me, things were progressing at a snail’s pace, but they were still progressing. It needed to stop. What I couldn’t figure out was why I hadn’t.
When he kissed me, it felt like he’d tasered me too. Sparks shot through my body, and heat burned in the depths of my belly. I think I might have even kissed him back. It should have felt dirty; the way I always remembered feeling when a man touched me. I’d felt that way with every con, and all the others before them who lined up to take a piece of my soul. But with Lucian, it was different, and I was afraid to acknowledge that maybe it was because this time I wanted it.
As further evidence of my growing sickness, I found myself in front of the bathroom door. It was wide open. He hadn’t bothered to shut it because he knew he usually had to wake me. This morning, he hadn’t counted on me standing there. He hadn’t counted on my curiosity driving me to the edge of the bedroom where the carpet met the tile. And he certainly hadn’t counted on me finding him like this.
His back was turned away, his head tilted toward the floor as hot water beat down on his skin. One hand was pressed against the shower wall, and the other was fisted around his cock. He tugged on the angry, swollen member so hard it looked painful. But so were the sounds he tried to stifle in his throat. The grunts and groans of a man who seemed as though he hated what he was doing. Perhaps even hated himself.
It was a moment so intimate it felt wrong to bear witness, but I couldn’t find it in me to move. I watched him until he came all over the shower floor, releasing himself but not his demons. His shoulders sagged, and his head fell forward, but there was no satisfaction in the aftermath.
My lungs burned with the need for air, and my heart beat so viciously against my chest that I felt dizzy. There was something so kindred at this moment between us. A moment he didn’t even know we were sharing.
I could feel his emptiness. His self-hatred. And as heat flooded the space between my thighs, I wondered if he’d been thinking of me.
