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Not only does she deserve better, but I won’t live the rest of my life keeping people at a distance just because of the world I have immersed myself in.
I have to claim this woman in a way I refused to allow myself to do before. I need her to know that I’m all in now. That I won’t push her away again. That I won’t keep her in the dark. That for as long as she wants to remain by my side, she will be cherished and cared for in every way that I know she deserves.
My lips move from her cheek to her mouth, hovering over hers with only a hairsbreadth of space between us. She stays completely still, not moving closer or further away from me, allowing me to make this choice as if she understands what it means to me. Even if I’m not entirely sure myself.
I’ve always been strong-minded and excelled at the tasks I chose to focus on. There was only once that I allowed myself to care for another enough that I became wild. A consequence that I suffered from when her father took her away from me once he learned who my family really was.
It had been teenage lust, but real emotions to me at the time. My father hadn’t let it pass by without teaching me a lesson in life. It was beaten into me until he deemed me strong enough to withstand foolish emotions such as love.
I didn’t know better at the time and accepted his words, using them to become who I needed to be to make sure nobody had the power to hurt me again.
Yet, by denying myself the intimacy of kissing Olivia, by resisting her fully, I've only reaped regret, especially while she was gone. I can't afford any more regrets. I want her, and if she's willing to give herself to me, I'm done holding back.
My lips meet hers, gently at first, a cautious exploration that ignites a tremor down my spine. She responds, parting her lips in a breathless sigh, a soft gasp carrying the promise of desire.
Her fingers, delicate and seeking, find the fabric of my shirt, clutching the cotton as if anchoring herself in the whirlwind of emotions as our tongues tangle, tasting each other until I can’t tell where her mouth begins and mine ends.
Moving in closer to her, my heartbeat echoes in the space between us, a rhythm matching the urgency of our kiss. I taste her, every essence and flavor of her that I've come to crave. The warmth of her breath mingles with mine, creating an intoxicating blend that encourages me to keep devouring her.
As the kiss deepens, a fierce longing takes over, a primal need to be closer, to claim not only everything that she is, but what she will be. My body leans over her, instinct tempting me to cover her completely, to shield her from the world's harshness. But the ache in my bones reminds me of her fragility that I'm determined to protect and heal.
With a gentle yet urgent motion, I continue to kiss her as if our lives depend on the single action, my hand sliding around the curve of her head until my fingers entwine with the silky strands of her hair, keeping her as close as I feel comfortable doing without hurting her.
I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, a frantic rhythm that mirrors my own. Every breath, every desperate touch fuels the fervor between us. Our connection, one I’ve tried to keep at arm’s length until now, is an inferno of emotions that burns away the doubts and fears, leaving only the raw and unadulterated truth of what we share.
It’s more potent than the thrill of the hunt, more promising than my empire's success, and more certain than the family I’ve been building with the people closest to me.
As I finally draw away, breathless and craving more, I meet her eyes, my gaze an unspoken promise. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a heady cocktail of longing and devotion that has reignited a spark between us, a spark that now blazes with the potential of something more profound than I previously thought I could allow myself.
Her smile nearly knocks me on my ass until she speaks. “That was unexpectedly…pleasant.”
“Pleasant?” I repeat, gripping the back of her head tighter. “I’mpleasantto you?”
Her cheeks flush crimson, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh, you’re much more than that and you know it.”
I loosen my hold and kiss her forehead. “I do. Now, tell me how you’re feeling, so I can decide if Theo needs to leave or not.”
“Theo?” she questions.
“Dr. Thomson, as he introduced himself.”
“Ah.” Her eyes roam over her body, and her hands move lightly over the sheet covering her lower half. “Before we get to that, how am I clean if I’ve been unconscious?”
“Justine took care of you while I was being stitched up,” I say, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone that the redhead had taken that job from me, but I wasn’t in any shape to do so myself.
A crease forms between Olivia’s brows. “Stitched up? Why?”
“I was shot the day we were attacked,” I answer, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. “While I was busting down doors to find you, I tore my stitches.”
“Vin told me that when he took me,” she admits. “I wasn’t sure if it was true after the fact and hoped it wasn’t. But you’re okay now?”
I nod, briefly stroking her jawline with the back of my fingers. “Now that you’re back.”
She leans into the touch, then reaches for the water she hasn’t finished. “I still feel swollen. I want to ask for a mirror, but I’m afraid to see what I look like.”
“Titan will pay for every bruise he put on your precious body,” I snarl, then ask what I’ve been dying to know. “How did you escape?”
Her eyes widen, and she nearly chokes on the drink she’s in the middle of. “I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
