Page 7 of Sold to the Titan

I give him a small nod, trying to regulate my thudding heartbeat. Tears slip down my cheeks before I can stop them. Cillian sits beside me on the bed and pulls me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I cling to him, words tumbling out in between sobs. “I was…at the chapel, and couldn’t escape…they were—”

“Shh…I’ve got you, love,” he says, his voice low, steady. He pulls me closer, his hand running over my back, each touch steadying me. “You’re safe now,” he whispers. “No one’s touching you again. Not while I’m around.”

He eases me back into bed, pulling the blankets up around me with surprising gentleness. And then he leans in, his lips brushing my forehead, then my nose. He stops just inches from my mouth, his gaze locking onto mine with a heat that makes my heart race erratically.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmurs in a rough whisper that sends a shiver coursing through me.

He starts to pull away, but I don’t let go. I tighten my arms around his neck, surprising both of us. I just know that I don’t want him to leave. Not yet.

“Stay,” I say softly, barely more than a whisper.

He freezes. His gaze darkens, his jaw clenching as his eyes burn into mine. Something tells me he’s holding on to control by a thread. “You’re testing me, love,” he warns, voice tight. “If I stay, I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself.”

My cheeks heat, but I don’t back down. “Maybe I want you to touch me,” I say, voice shaking.

His fist tightens in the blankets, his body tense with that same wild energy as in that auction hall. For a split second, I think he’s going to kiss me. But then he lets go of the blanket, hisexpression hardening. He straightens, takes a step back, and walks around to the other side of the bed. I sink back against the pillows, delighted at first, but then confused when he lies down above the blankets.

He gently rolls me over onto my side, facing away from him, and curls his arm around my body.

“Sleep, love,” he whispers.

I bite my lip to stop my tears from falling. Was I not clear that I wanted him to touch me? This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.

I feel so stupid. What did I expect? I should have known that a man like Cillian wouldn’t want a girl like me under normal circumstances. He’s way above my league. His arm is a comforting weight, but I wanted so much more. Cillian’s face, his touch, his voice—all of it keeps looping in my head.

I finally drift off, only to wake up again in what feels like no time. The bed behind me is cold and empty, and I sit up with a sigh.Of course he didn’t want to stay in bed with me all night. I must have seemed so needy to him, crying about a nightmare when he already saved me. What more can I ask of him?

I get out of bed with another sigh and head out the door barefoot. I try to be quiet as I walk through the hallway, careful not to make any noise that’ll wake Cillian up. I would probably die from embarrassment if I had to face him now, after he rejected me. I head toward what seems to be the kitchen and as I reach the doorway, I freeze in my tracks.

Cillian is leaning against the counter, drinking water from a plastic bottle. He’s shirtless, his broad shoulders and sculpted chest illuminated softly by the dim kitchen lights. His muscles flex slightly as he lifts the bottle to his lips. My throat goes dryat the sight, my eyes roaming down his chiseled chest to the lean muscles of his stomach. Every inch of him radiates a raw, masculine energy. My pulse quickens, my body heating up with a now-familiar ache. I start to back away quietly, hoping he doesn’t see me.

But his gaze snaps to mine, brows raised slightly in amusement. “You’re just gonna leave like that?” he asks quietly, his lips curving upward in an amused smile.

Heat floods my cheeks and I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me.

“I thought…I just…” I drop my gaze, unable to handle the smoldering heat in his gorgeous blue eyes. “I wanted a glass of milk, but I could come back.”

Still smiling, he grabs a glass, and a bottle of milk from the fridge. He pours some milk into the glass and walks over to me.

“Here you go.”

I take the glass from him, his fingers lightly brushing mine, sending jolts of electricity zapping through my body. “Thank you,” I manage, my voice almost a whisper. I raise the glass to my lips, my hand trembling slightly. I can barely think or function with Cillian standing so close, his eyes roaming my body with deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I gulp the rest of the milk, almost choking from swallowing too fast.

“I-I should get back to bed,” I stutter, clearing my throat awkwardly.

I start to turn away but his voice stops me. “Don’t go, Aria.”

My heart skips a beat. I like way he says my name, the way it rolls off his tongue like a caress.

“Why?” I ask quietly, thinking back to his rejection earlier. It hurts. “I didn’t think you wanted me around you.”

“I do, love,” he responds in a tight voice. “I want more than you can possibly imagine. Look at me.” I raise my eyes to his face and he steps closer, gently caressing my jaw. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

My heart is beating so loudly I wonder if he can hear it. “From what?”

“Myself.”

“Why? Because I’m younger?”

---