Page 38 of Euphoria
His eyes fixed upon me and held, his aura pulling at mine like a magnet. “You.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, my eyes misting with tears. “You walked away from me with no explanation. All that I am wasn’t enough, and you and your friends have delighted in reminding me every single day since. I tire of your games and riddles. I cannot take it anymore!”
His expression softened, and it was a curious thing to behold. “Are you so fixed upon your own dire conclusions you don’t see how I long for you?”
My heart twisted as I fought the sudden desire to fling myself into his arms. “You mock me!”
“I’m beholden to the burden of my name, and it is a terrible weight that I cannot leave behind, not for want of trying, but I struggle, Jane. Then came the spirit who knocked me off my motorcycle and breathed air into my starved lungs, and through her sharp tongue, she brought life back into my cold body.”
“But you despise me!”
“You argue and war with yourself, so you can’t see,” he went on. “You challenge me like no other, Jane. Do you understand how much you ire me?”
“That is longing for you?” I asked incredulously. “Annoyance and anger?”
“You challenge me,” he said again. “Do you think any of those women are anything but followers? They say whatever it takes to placate and earn my favor. That, to me, is stagnation, Jane.”
“But…” I shook my head. “You… I’m not…”
“I understand.” His brow furrowed. “I cannot have you, not on the surface, but I want you nonetheless.”
My knees buckled, and I fell onto the couch, feeling faint. If this was a ruse, it was elaborate indeed!
“You transfix me,” he murmured, sitting beside me. His hand found mine, the connection sending a bolt of lightning through my body and into my heart, jump-starting the failing organ.
“You…” I began, but I couldn’t finish.
“I have seen the soul that lingers behind your eyes, and I want to possess it.” His voice was a whisper, a promise, a threat.
“I must protect myself,” I muttered. “You accuse me of bewitching you on the road, but you are the master.”
He seemed rather pleased with my answer, and he smiled. Not a smile full of joy and pleasure but one of triumph and longing.
“Don’t fight me, Jane,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand. “I must have you.”
“Mercilessly?” I asked as he edged closer.
His answer wasn’t words, it was a kiss, his lips meeting mine in a soft embrace. The same desire that had overcome my body the first night he’d laid his hands on me flowed through my veins and overloaded my nerves, and I melted into his touch. Parting my lips, his tongue dove against mine and delight shifted into pure passion.
Easing me backward, I lay flat on the couch as he lowered his body over mine, propping up his bulk with his elbow. My legs parted, one foot falling to the floor as I felt him harden against me.
“Jane,” he murmured, his gaze searching mine.
“I am yours,” I replied. “I couldn’t fight you now even if I wished.”
His lips curved into a smile as his fingers began undoing the buttons of my blouse. “Good. I couldn’t stop myself now. The beast has been unleashed, and he must taste you…”
I shuddered against him, his wicked words speaking deeper to me than anything he’d ever murmured before.
He reached behind his neck and pulled his T-shirt over his head, discarding it onto the floor, and then resumed work on my blouse. Boldly, I ran my palms over his torso, feeling his muscles beneath my palms. His body was magnificent. He was rough and wild, chiseled out of stone, and made of flesh before me.
The last button came undone, and my blouse opened, revealing me to his greedy eyes. He stared at me for a long moment, his fingers tracing the edges of my bra and brushing against the swell of my breasts. This felt different to last time. Then, he’d been wild and passionate, hardly containing himself, and now he relished and savored each touch, knowing I wasn’t going to flee his tyranny. This time, he was sure of himself and his intent.
I was at his mercy as he tugged the cups of my bra down and exposed me, his thumbs rubbing against my taught nipples. The sensation of his hands,the master’s hands, against my naked skin was exquisite. Forgetting myself, I arched my back and urged his touch to deepen just as his kiss had.
Instead of his hands taking me, he lowered his lips and pulled me into his mouth, his teeth dragging against my skin. The sharp burst of pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that coursed through my body and splintered between my legs, and when his tongue soothed the hurt, the euphoria only rose.
He moved to the other breast, repeating his torturous dance, and then his mouth moved between where he placed a soft kiss. Then his trail moved lower and lower until he reached my stomach.
