body heat. And I can feel a pressure deep within me.
He pulls my hand off softly. “Please don’t, Ella,” he pleads as his eyes gloss over, soften.
I know I’ve got him. Do I let go? Or do I hold on? It almost feels like a game I’m playing. But it’s not. I want him so desperately and it’s not just about sex. I just want to be close to him again. I love him so much.
“Please come,” I tell him, pulling his hand. “I’ll show you.”
He jerks his hand from mine so fast, it makes my heart jump. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” he snaps. “Bring it to me.”
I bite back the tears. “I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to bring you to the den. That’s where…”
His gaze softens and I can tell he’s sorry he was cross with me. He bites his lip and stares down at the floor, wrecked. “Sure,” he finally concedes. “Let’s see.”
He follows me to the den, tucked at the left side of the house. He stands cautiously by the desk. I open the desk drawer and pull out the card and the chocolate bar. I walk over to him and hand them to him with a smile, my eyes still wet with tears.
He smiles back, a beautiful precious genuine smile. I haven’t seen it in forever and that’s all I need. Even if I can’t touch him.
“Thanks,” he says, looking down at the card. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s okay. I understand,” I tell him. “Open it.”
He winces and shakes his head. “I can’t, Ella. I don’t want to. Maybe I’ll open it at my place, away from you.”
I inch closer to him, and press my hand against his stomach again. I can’t help myself. The pull is powerful. The chemistry between us is still there and still so very strong. “I understand.”
He doesn’t retreat. He just looks at me, like he used to. I know I’ve hooked him. He wants this as much as I do. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. It seems so very wrong. I almost want him to push me away one last time.
But he doesn’t.
I gaze up at him as I pull up the fabric of his shirt. His eyes darken. I stroke his warm skin, just above the waistband of his pants, the touch of my fingers feather soft. His skin is just as warm and beautiful as I remember. He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe, it seems. The only evidence of his desire is the darkness in his eyes, the intensity in them.
In one swift move, he drops the card and the chocolate bar in a hard thud on the floor, grabs my face hard with both hands and pulls me to him. His mouth takes mine, his tongue frantically seeking mine. His hands are forceful. His mouth too. It isn’t slow and tender. It is swift, raw, filled with passion. His kiss is hurried, desperate. He sucks my bottom lip between his, bites at it gently. I feel him hard against me. My entire being melts. I’m a puddle on the floor. I don’t want him to ever stop.
He drags his hands to my hair and pulls at it. I trail my hands along his stomach, my nails digging into skin. He grabs the underside of my legs and jerks me up against him. I wrap my legs tightly around him. His actions are hostile but I’m not scared.
I want this as much as he does.
He carries me to the powder room next to the den and flattens me against the wall, my legs splayed around him.
“Lock the door,” I manage to choke out, my breathing labored. I reach out and turn on the fan. I don’t want the girls to hear us.
He fiddles with the door behind us for a second, his other hand already working on the waistband of my leggings. “You have no idea how much I hate you, Mirella,” he breathes against my collarbone. “I hate you right now…but fucking God… I want to be inside you. I want to rip you apart…to taste you.”
My whole body flushes at the sound of his words. I want that so badly. I want him to take me, to taste me.
“I’ve missed you so much.” I pull his linen pants over his rear and wrap my hand around his beautiful cock, so hot and ready for me. He trails his mouth along my