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THIRTEEN
Melanie
I
woke up in Shane’s bed, stretching out under the duvet, imbued with his intoxicating scent throughout it. I reached my hand to his side, jonesing for his body warmth, but he was nowhere to be seen. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, yawning. I didn’t remember falling asleep last night. I remembered snuggling into his broad chest that felt like home and talking—talking for hours. The memory of how he caressed my arm still lingering on my skin. I felt so safe in Shane’s arms, so right. He was like medicine for my pain. My drug of choice. My drug I could never resist. All that in such a short period of time.
“Hey.” His low yet soft voice reached my ear as he lurked in the slightly ajar door. “You’re up?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. The sight of this man would always brighten up my day. “Where have you been?”
He walked in, leaving the door ajar before moving closer and sitting on the other side of the bed. “My father called me,” he said, his voice dry. “He’ll be hosting an annual charity event in New York in a couple of days. It’s a fancy event that became a tradition for him.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I’ve read about it in the newspapers. So what about it?”
He covered my hand with his, caressing it with his thumb. “You know, as my father’s heir, I have to be there.”
I nodded, and my stomach dropped at the thought of Shane leaving for New York. I knew this couldn’t last forever. At the same time, I wished it could. I let out a heavy breath, realizing how addicted I was to Shane Vergoossen, the last man I should've fallen for. Ironic how something soforbiddenfelt so fine.
My nemesis became my savior.
The question was… would he be my downfall or the reason for my uprising?
“Melanie?” His raspy voice brought me back to reality. I glanced at his perfect face and smiled, drowning in his sky-blue gaze.
“Hm?” I muttered, clinging to his electrifying touch as he brought his hand to my cheek.
“I want you to go with me,” he said softly, a mischievous smirk curling up his lip. “As my date.”
I straightened up, staring into his eyes, bemused. “But… what about our fathers? You know that my father will never let me go.”
“Actually, my father wants to invite your parents this year, too.”
“What?” I raised my brow, taken aback. “He’s never invited them before. What has changed now? Is it because of you?”
“Maybe,” Shane muttered, a sly smirk curled up his lips.
I let out a deep sigh. “Shane… and the press? If we show up there together, we’ll make front-page headlines. Especially since I broke my engagement off just recently.”
“Do you care?” Shane whispered, leaning closer so that our lips were only inches apart. “Because as long as I have you by my side, the world could be crumbling down, and I wouldn’t give a damn.”
I slid my hands around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. We fell back onto the bed, Shane resting his body weight on his elbows above me. I draped my fingers down his back. His muscles began to tense. I saw the effect my touch had on him, but it felt like Shane was holding himself back for some reason. He trailed kisses down my neck, but they felt different. Considerate and gentle and not savage and rough like before.
“Shane,” I whispered, and he slowly pulled back to look at me. “I want you.”
He smirked and leaned down to kiss me, gently running his hand up my thigh. “I’m all yours, baby,” he whispered against the shell of my ear, teasing me with his tongue.
He slid his hand underneath the oversized shirt I wore to sleep, his touch tender, and I whined, undone, “I meant I wantyou.”
He pulled back again to look into my eyes, this time a little puzzled.
“I want the passionate, wild, and rough you,” I stated, grinding against his rock-hard bulge in his pants, desire surging through my body. I rolled over so that now I was on top of him, straddling him. I glided my hands down his naked torso, biting my lower lip provocatively. “I want your fierce kisses, wicked touch.” I leaned down to his ear and sucked on his earlobe before hissing seductively. “I want you to fuck me, Shane.”
A deep growl escaped his throat while I licked his neck, nibbling it teasingly. He propped himself on his elbow, sliding his other hand around my bare waist underneath the woolen fabric. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and I moaned against his lips as he kissed me demandingly. I moved my hand to the back of his head, pulling it closer as I intertwined my fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. He sat up, and I was still straddling him as his hands roamed up and down my body before he tugged the T-shirt I wore over my head, exposing my naked body. Not breaking our hungry kiss, I helped him get rid of his pants, and he ripped my panties apart before I even knew it. He licked the sensitive skin of my neck the whole way up to my chin, and I tilted my head back, giving him better access. He grabbed my hips with his hands, and a loud moan filled the room as he pressed me into him, dipping deep inside.
But even though we had sex that day, he didn’t fuck me. That day, he made love to me.
I guess it was then when we slowly started blurring the lines between raw lust and pure love.
