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“Just go home, Rose. Take the fucking money and go.”
She stilled and steadied her breath. “I don’t want the money.”
“What?”
My grip loosened and she pulled her hand away, wrapping her other hand around the wrist.
“I don’t want the money, Dax,” she said, her voice soft but deadly serious. “But I do still want you to take my virginity.”
I closed my eyes to keep from letting her words get inside. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Opening my lids again, I watched her lips curl inwards.
“I know exactly what I’m saying. I want you. Why won’t you believe me?”
I dropped my gaze to the floor. “I kept you here too long…”
“Two weeks.”
“You’re vulnerable…”
“I know what I’m doing.”
I clamped my hands over the back of a chair and released a low, tight growl. “I will NOT take advantage of you.”
She stepped towards me and curled a fist into my shirt. Her proximity, the volunteered touch, sent a spasm of desire shooting down my spine. “You won’t, Dax,” she said. “I’m giving myself to you willingly.”
My eyes felt raw with the need to look at her but I forced them not to waver. When she leaned in, I could feel the perspiration rising off me in waves. If the sight of my suite in total ruin hadn’t already convinced her of my madness, and my capacity to cause irreparable damage, surely my inability to make eye contact cleared up any doubt.
She dipped beneath my lashes, placing herself right in the centre of my eye line. Her cheeks were pink, her lips soft and parted.
“I want you, Dax.”
She wrapped a hand round the back of my neck and pulled her face up to mine until her lips brushed the scars across my cheekbones. My own lashes drifted shut and a loose moan issued from my lips.
“Please,” she whispered against the raised ridges of my skin. “Take my virginity. I want no one else to have it but you.”
I became aware of nothing but the heat of her breath and the tightness of my clothes. My shirt felt ready to burst and my boxers and trousers felt like a vice around my cock and thighs. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to fuck her gently through her very first time, then fuck her hard every day until the last. And knowing I couldn’t do any of that made me want to kill myself.
“Please Dax,” she said. Her voice was all choked up. My cock weighed heavy and throbbed. “I need this.”
I need this.
My knees sang as they thudded again to the floor and my mind emptied of every argument it had created to fight this feral, unbridled urge.
My hands found their way to the crest of her hips. As they rested there, her quiet sigh caressed the top of my head. I pressed my forehead softly into her stomach. She had to stop me. I was a bad, bad man who’d tricked her into wanting something that didn’t exist. Sure, I had money, sure I lived in a damn castle. It didn’t change the fact I was no knight in shining armour. I was a beast. A scarred and deformed beast.
Her fingertips drew sketches across my crown and teased through my hair. Her breathing had slowed and steadied. She was calm. I had to keep my heart as far from the thought I mighthave caused that as possible. I could give her what she thought she wanted, but I couldn’t let this madness become belief.
As I breathed her in, a sweet scent touched my nose, infusing my vision. Her need rose through the air making me dizzy.
I held my breath, then ran my hands down her hips and legs to her ankles. I wrapped my fingers around them and gently caressed the skin, almost weeping at how right she felt. Even slower still, I stroked my way back up her calves, pausing briefly in the dips behind her knees. She rocked on her heels, stabilising herself.
My breath quickened and my pulse raced when my fingertips trailed up the backs of her thighs. I stroked along the crease of her bottom to the outer edge of her thighs and the lace of her pants. With a loud sigh, I pressed my face into the fabric of her dress. It was the only thing separating my lips from her pussy.
The silk dragged against my face and I leaned back to let it pass. As my gaze flicked upwards, I caught a glimpse of fire in her eyes. My breath caught as I broke contact to see a small triangle of beautiful rose pink lace presented to me. The skin beneath wasn’t quite bare, which I liked. I wanted a virgin, not a child. In a beat I was overtaken. Her sweet scent, the shadow of her glance imprinted on my eyelids, and the heat of my need collided and I pressed my tongue to the lace. She gasped audibly and shuddered, which sent a ripple of shock down my neck and across my shoulders.
She couldn’t have faked that.
