Page 52 of Love Me Darkly
She closed her eyes and released another deluge of tears. He was tearing into her, ripping her apart with nothing but words. But he hadn’t said anything that wasn’t the bald truth.
“No,” she whispered. “Never.”
“Let me help you, Melody. I can protect you.”
Melody peered into his eyes and found that he really believed he could. His voice didn’t waver and his hold on her was strong and sure. She wanted nothing more than to melt into him and tell him that yes, she would accept his offer of protection. Yes, she would tell him everything and trust him to find her way out of the trap that had snared her. But experience had taught her that the only person she could truly rely on was herself. It had also taught her that when a man offered her something, it was with certain expectations. She had encouraged his attention even while trying to pretend she didn’t want it. That dance at Solstice had been entirely her idea, and she had purposely danced close to provoke a reaction out of him. She had let Mateo shove up her dress and fuck her in a dark storage room in a nightclub. Of course he was offering her protection. She had given him the thing he’d so obviously wanted from the moment they had met, and now he would expect it again as payment for what he was promising.
“No one can help me,” she argued. “They own me. There is no way out.”
“When I’m done with them, there won’t be anything left but rubble. You’ll be free and clear.”
Melody shook her head. How could he be so good at his job—the stories she’d read had told her that much—and still be so blind to what was right in front of him?
“I’m sure you’re good at what you do,” she hedged, not wanting him to know she had spied on him even though he had started it by stalking her. “But I don’t have the luxury of hope or waiting on a rescuer. I’ve survived this long by doing what I had to do.”
The furrows in his brow smoothed and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was the oddest, sweetest thing Melody had ever experienced. She hadn’t been kissed on her forehead since she was a little girl, by an uncle who had adored her. He had been the only man in her life to show her kindness. But his forehead kiss hadn’t been like this one. It hadn’t affected her in nearly the same way.
“Stay,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to leave. I won’t pressure you or ask questions. Just … stay.”
Melody couldn’t have refused him if she wanted to. And really, despite her fears, leaving was the last thing she wanted to do. She had come here for a reason, and now realized what that reason was. She needed the sight of him, real and whole and reminding her that she wasn’t entirely alone. She needed the feel of him under her hands, the knowledge that he was as real as her senses told her he was. She needed to stand in his presence and feel seen.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, and Melody brought her hands up to cover his, holding on for dear life. This kiss was unlike the others he had given her. The passion that seemed such a part of his nature was still present, but it was quieter. It simmered under a thinly veiled gentleness that seemed to barely hold him in check. His hands smoothed downward, stroking her shoulders and arms before taking hold of her waist. His lips devoured hers with aching slowness, his tongue a bare whisper at the seam of her lips. Her breath raced, her pulse already thundering in reaction to the innocent kiss. But there was nothing innocent about the way he was holding her. His hands grew possessive at her waist, tight and demanding. He hauled her against him, crushing their bodies together. She moaned into his mouth at the feel of him, impossibly hard and solid, radiating heat.
His fingers curled in the hem of her shirt and began slowly dragging it up. His knuckles brushed her sides in a hint of a caress as he slid the garment upward, breaking their kiss only long enough to get it off over her head. Then, he was nibbling at her with more urgency, his breaths panted out against her mouth as he teased and tasted.
Melody followed his lead, suddenly desperate for there to be no barriers left between them. At least not physical ones. They stood worlds apart, and her little social media investigation had only driven that point farther home. In no other situation would she have found herself in this man’s arms, but she wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
Melody slipped her hands beneath his T-shirt, encountering the ripples of defined abs. She pushed it further up, trailing her fingers through soft, silky, curling hairs. The bulges of his pecs flexed beneath her palms, every inch of him coiling tight in reaction to her touch. He had claimed that she responded to him as if she had never been touched. That was true enough, as almost every man who had ever fucked her had paid for the use of her body. Touching her, pleasuring her, caring about her … they weren’t part of the bargain. It seemed only natural that she would feel like a knot of sensation under his hands. But what was truly enthralling was the way he reacted to her, as if he didn’t know what it was like to be touched so intimately. Or, maybe, she realized, thinking of Mari, he had forgotten.
He tore his mouth away from hers, then reached back to grab the collar of his shirt and pull it off over his head. They went down onto the bed, arms around one another, mouths searching. Mateo trembled on top of her, flexing his hips so she could feel the length and hardness of him through layers of denim. She had gotten a quick look at a tattoo on his chest, as well as the ones decorating his biceps, but couldn’t take the time to inspect them with Mateo’s mouth and tongue making their way lower, down her neck to her collarbone, then lower.
He pulled back and rested his fingertip over the front clasp of her bra. Dragging his gaze up to hers, he flicked it open. The constriction around her breasts eased and they fell free as he slid the straps off her shoulders.
“I wanted this last night at Solstice,” he murmured, cupping one breast and stroking his thumb over her nipple. “I wanted to undress you, reveal every inch. Kiss you here …”
She gasped when he pressed the gentlest of kisses to the point of the nipple he had just stroked, then gave her the very tip of his tongue.
“And here,” he added, treating the other nipple the same. “And … here.”
She bit her lip around a moan when he cupped between her legs.
“There wasn’t time. But now … I have nothing but time.”
She squirmed against him and he tightened his hand, rendering her motionless and sending a jolt of pleasure through her when his middle finger pressed the seam of her jeans into her slit. He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked it, deep and hard, making her back arch up off the bed. A sharp cry echoed from her and carried through the room, and he groaned in response, sucking and lashing her nipple with flicks of his tongue. The hand between her legs began to move, slowly, achingly. He circled his fingers, teasing her through the layers of her jeans and panties. She clutched his shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin as he switched to the other breast, taking it even deeper, sucking with ravenous pulls of his beautiful mouth. She undulated her hips, seeking out more pressure, wishing he would slip that hand inside her pants so he could touch her properly. Every pass of his middle finger over her clit was slightly dulled, teasing with a promise of more.
Mateo kissed his way up her neck, then bit the point of her chin. “Don’t rush me,” he whispered against her jaw, punctuating it with a little kiss. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. But only if you’re a good girl and hold still. You keep squirming like that and I’m going to lose it.”
She breathed a huff of frustration and let her hips fall back onto the bed. There was no missing the subtle warning in Mateo’s tone. As much as she wanted to push him over the edge of his control, she was curious about where this was going. He had seemed desperate to get inside of her last night, almost mindless in his actions. But this was deliberate; everything he did was calculated, as if he had planned this attack on her body before engaging. As if he had been dreaming about doing this to her.
He bit her again, a little harder this time. “Answer me.”
Melody blinked, not having realized he had asked her a question. “Um … I …”
“I asked if you understood.”
She jerked her head in a nod and then breathed a sigh of relief when he flicked open the button of her jeans. “Yes.”
