Page 113 of Twisted Addiction
Distance would heal me, I told myself, and force me to stop loving him.
I tried to wiggle free, but his arms tightened, his voice a plea. “Please... Just... stay. Sleep here, in my arms. Tonight, that’s all I’m asking.”
Why was he being gentle now, on my last night?
I stopped fighting, letting his embrace hold me, the warmth of his naked skin against mine a cruel comfort.
I hated how safe it felt, how soothing, the way our bodies fit together like pieces of a broken puzzle.
I hated the ache in my chest, the longing to wake like this every morning, to sleep like this every night.
Quiet tears slipped down my cheeks, silent in the dark.
He’d always hate me, for betrayals I didn’t commit, for my family’s sins I was innocent of. That much was clear.
As I lay there, wrapped in his arms, I mourned the love we’d lost, the future we’d never have, and the child he’d never know—a secret that would follow me to New York, where I’d learn toheal, to forget, even as my heart broke for the man I couldn’t stop loving.
Chapter 25
PENELOPE
Sleep came like a thief, pulling me under before I could resist. The world dissolved into black, and for the first time in weeks, the nightmares didn’t find me.
When I woke up, the first thing I felt was him.
Warmth.
The slow, steady rhythm of a heartbeat pressed against my back.
Dmitri’s arms were still around me, possessive even in slumber. His body was a fortress built around mine.
I inhaled softly.
His scent—clean soap, cedar, and the faintest trace of smoke—wrapped around me. For one foolish moment, I didn’t want to move. Then reality clawed its way back in, and my skin prickled.
I shifted carefully, trying to slip away. But even half-asleep, his body reacted, tightening its hold—a reflex, protective or possessive, I couldn’t tell.
Turning within his embrace, I faced him. My breath caught.
Dmitri in sleep was a contradiction—peace carved into a man made of war.
His face, so near I could feel his breath ghost against my cheek, was a blend of everything I loved and everything I feared.
The boy I’d once known still lingered beneath the hardened lines: the soft mouth that used to smile only for me, the faint scarabove his brow, a remnant of a fight he’d picked defending my honor. But the rest of him... the rest was unrecognizable.
Rugged. Sharpened by loss.
Even in repose, he looked like someone who’d survived too many winters. His lashes fanned against his cheekbones, dark against his skin, and the faint furrow between his brows never relaxed completely.
A soldier’s rest—even in sleep, he was never truly at peace.
And yet, this was the man who had humiliated me, who had tried to end my pregnancy, who had locked me away, and ultimately cast me aside for his ex-fiancée.
So why did my chest ache looking at him now?
A sharp knock shattered the stillness.
“Ma’am,” Giovanni’s deep voice rumbled through the door, gruff but respectful. “Your flight leaves in an hour. I believe you’re already dressing?”
