Incipient A Dark Paranormal Romance - Bianca Scardoni Page 0,63
out from between us. My chest pressed against his as our mouths reconnected like two fated hurricanes colliding into each other at dangerous speeds.
The air closed in around us, pushing us closer together as I ran my hands up his abdomen and then over the expanse of his broad chest. Images of his bare upper body stalked into my mind and suddenly, I was angry with his shirt for existing.
Feeling or hearing my plight, Trace broke away from me, leaning back just enough to grab the back of his shirt and yank it off like he hated it as much as I did.
Desire pooled deep in my belly as I flattened my palms against his warm abdomen and traced the thick muscles there. His body was a work of art that begged to be appreciated—enjoyed, and I was more than willing to be the one to do it. Working my lip between my teeth, my hands roamed freely from his well-defined sixpack to his broad chest, before wrapping around the slopes of his shoulders and then coming back down the other way.
A rumble of satisfaction sounded deep in his chest as I lifted my eyes to his and caught him watching me, his eyes trailing my every move like steel to a magnet.
Everything slowed down for a beat, our eyes tangled in a web of emotion that we could spend our entire lives trying to decipher and still never reach the end of it.
Gripping my hips, he tugged me forward him so that I was flush against his body, my butt half suspended in the air with only his hands holding me up. My legs twisted around his waist and squeezed him closer to me, aching to feel every inch of his desire for me between my thighs.
Canting his head, his lips returned to mine hungrily, but the kiss was different this time. Slower…softer…hotter, like he wanted to make love to me with his mouth; to savor every waking moment of the kiss. Happy to oblige, I parted my lips and welcomed the gentle exploration. His thumb brushed along my jawline and then down my neck, his eyes pausing on the wound there and the old scars that would never fully leave me.
My chest heaved as I watched him read my body like a diary. Pain reflected in his eyes as he touched his finger to the raised skin, and I pulled away. I didn’t want him to touch that part of me—to be reminded of Dominic and all the darkness and salvation he had brought to my life. I didn’t want to think of any of that and definitely not with Trace touching me.
“I hate that he did this to you,” he rasped, his eyes filled with misguided sympathy for a time and place in my life he would never fully comprehend.
But I didn’t want his sympathy because I wasn’t a victim. Not of anyone and certainly not Dominic’s. What he did to me then, I’d wanted him to do to me. Over and over again. And while I wasn’t sure exactly what that said about me, I was certain it wasn’t anything good.
He wouldn’t understand and I didn’t have the words to explain it.
The room dipped around me as my head spun with waring emotions and scrambled thoughts I could no longer block out. My past rushed back to haunt me and the painful memories surrounded me.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I said and pushed him back a step before jumping off the bathroom counter. “I’m not ready,” I said and then grabbed my shirt from the floor.
Trace stood back with his palms midair, watching me with confusion as I threw my camisole back on and then met his eyes. There was so much I wanted to say to him. So much I wanted to admit. About myself. About what happened between us. About the parts of me that no one knew beside Dominic.
But I couldn’t seem to find the words.
“I’m sorry,” I said again and rushed out of the bathroom, leaving Trace alone, shirtless and completely dumbfounded.
With my heart in my throat, I rushed back to his bedroom and climbed under the covers, wishing this entire day could be stricken from existence. With my back turned to the door, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep when he walked back into the room a few minutes later.
I felt his eyes burning into me, but I didn’t dare turn around and look. I was too much