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He doesn’tseeme. He’s only seeing Lia.
That thought cuts me open so deep, a tear slides down my cheek, mixing with the water and falling down the drain.
Because I know, I just know that he’ll never see me as Winter.
I’ll always be Lia.
27
Adrian
Ican’t stop.
I say I will after one more time as I lift her up and lay her down on her stomach, opening her legs wide and thrusting into her from behind.
I said I would stop after I took her one more time in bed last night.
I said I would stop after I woke her up, my teeth nibbling on her neck and fingers teasing her clit.
But I’m a fucking liar.
I have no will or plan to stop. The more I taste her and inhale the tangible scent of her arousal, the more I’m tempted to feast on it. To eat her out, swallow her down so deep that she’ll never think about finding a way out. I come up with method after method to wrench one orgasm after the other from her.
Usually, I’m the type who knows the exact moment to stop. You can’t overdo or underdo things. Finding that balance is impossible for most people, but not for me. I’ve always excelled at being the ‘right amount’ type of person.
I’ve never cared too much or too little. Never gone overboard, never pushed boundaries. Never had addictions or things I couldn’t easily get rid of.
Lia is the exception to all of those.
She’s the addiction I didn’t see coming, and when I finally noticed her, she was already streaming in my blood.
She’s the one whose boundaries were supposed to be pushed, but I ended up being the one in a clusterfuck of problems.
This woman is intoxicating. She crept under my skin and injected her black magic into my bones. Now, she’s the reason I breathe. I feel like if I stop touching her, if I let her go, she’ll disappear again.
I’ll never have her again.
My thrusts become profound, sharp, and animalistic at the thought. I’ve never been as hard as I was last night and this morning. My dick is in a constant need to claim her, own her, and teach her that she’ll never go anywhere—willingly or unwillingly.
Lia’s body jerks, her fingers fisting into the belt that I looped around her wrists and attached to the hook in the bedpost. She looks so beautiful and so fucking mine.
Her frame is petite, breakable, and so fragile that it hurts to think what could’ve happened to her last night. Cuts mark the soles of her feet and there’s a bruise forming under her eye. The moment I saw her panting, crying, and in a mild state of shock, I swore to find whoever touched her and snap his fucking neck with my bare hands.
At the same time, when I saw her struggling to hold Yan upright and knowing she’d probably carried him for a long time, judging by the scratches on her feet, I felt a deep sense of pride. Because even though Yan was supposed to protect her, they found themselves in a reversed position and she didn’t leave a man behind.
This tiny fucking woman carried a large man on her back as if that were normal.
Those thoughts only fill me with more desire for her, more need to engrave myself under her skin and into her blood.
I dig my fingers into her ass cheek as my other hand lifts her stomach the slightest bit. With one of my knees firmly planted between her open thighs, this position gives me more room to power into her.
Lia bites the pillow, muffling her sounds again. She’s been doing that since I carried her out of the shower last night. I release her ass and lean over so my chest covers her back.
Her muscles bend under my touch, caving in the slightest bit as her walls clench around my dick. I thrust two fingers into her mouth, opening it. “Don’t hide from me, Lia. Let me hear your voice.”
Her eyes meet mine, moisture gathering in them. They’re quiet, but defiant. Determined, yet sad, like a natural disaster that doesn’t want to ruin people’s lives but knows that it has to happen, anyway.
“Lia.Open.”
