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“Don’t do this?”
My eyes flutter closed when his mouth moves to my throat, his lips pressing against my pulse.
“Chris,” I gasp. “No.”
I attempt to pull away, but his forceful grip forces me to stay still.
“What’s wrong? Do you hate me, or do you hate the way your body reacts to mine? Hate that you can’t move on because there’s nothing like what we had?”
“Your words. Not mine,” I say through clenched teeth as I push at his shoulders. “If you’re miserable, that’s not my problem.”
His honey eyes spark to life. I can see it even in the dark. A flame licking the pure whiskey, setting the liquor on fire.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Sweets. You know me. When there’s a problem, I fix it. If my issue is that I’m miserable, I know exactly what the solution is.”
“Don’t even go there.”
I’m tiring myself with my failed attempts at pulling away from him. My scalp is starting to sting from trying to turn my head one way or another in his relentless grip.
“You’re the solution, Ella,” he says with a tipped smile.
With that, he releases me to grab my waist. He stands up, lifting me up with him, and only needs to take two steps before he can drop me back on the bed.
I push up on my elbows, but he presses a hand on my chest, pushing me back down.
Fighting him is exhausting. I’m using all my strength for something that doesn’t affect him in the slightest. It’s not like I’m some weak little thing. I hit the gym every day, I run, I dance, I cheer, but six-foot-four of pure muscle isn’t exactly fair, is it?
He lays on top of me, my wrists in his large hands as he presses them on either side of my head. “I know how you’re feeling about the future right now.”
He parts my legs with his knee, sliding it up until it presses against me. He’s wearing jeans, and I’m wearing my sleep shorts, and yet I feel like we’re already on fire. “Let me make you forget. Just for tonight.”
Hesitation crawls up my chest. My body is thrumming, begging me to give in. His head drops, his mouth finding its way from my neck to my chest, until he wraps his lips around my hard nipple, wetting my shirt as he unleashes his tongue on me.
“Chris,” I moan, my hips bucking. The feeling of his harsh jeans against my core tightens the pressure inside me.
This is bad. I’m meant to be stronger than that. I should be fighting with all my might right now, not melting under his touch.
His head is above mine again, his eyes staring at my lips. Aware of his hard gaze, and desperate for him, I lick my lips. It makes him smile.
“Stop thinking, Little one. Let Daddy make it all better.”
That simple sentence melts any fight left in me.
I wish I was stronger, and I wish I was pushing him away right now. But I’m only human, and I’m fighting against someone who knows me by heart. Someone who knows what I crave and what makes me weak.
Chris built me. Every single erotic molecule in my body is a result of his own lust he imprinted on me when I was younger. I let him make me the way I am, and now I’m paying the consequences.
He owns my soul, feeds my lust, and the worst is…I want to let him.
“Shit.” I can barely hold back a moan as his mouth trails down my stomach. He stops at my mound, looking up from his tempting position. He hooks his fingers on the waistband of my shorts. “Now is your moment to stop me, Sweets. You know there’s no going back once I start.”
My mouth parts, ready to tell him to leave. My brain tries everything to force the words out of my mouth. Instead, I lick my lips, trembling with need.
And I say nothing.
“That’s my good girl.” His smile is nothing like the Chris everyone knows. It’s carnal, borderline perverse.
He is going to eat me alive.
