She thought I stalked and viciously invaded her life, but I’d only ever wanted to protect her. Be her guardian. To me, she was the queen of everything, my only glimpse of anything good.
My mind spun as I carried Juliana into the house. Voices whispered in my head. But louder than the voices was the sound of my heart pounding in my head. It was a sound I craved for years. It never needed to be prompted when Juliana was around. And no matter how this ended tonight, I just wanted to lay claim to her, and then lay my head on her chest and listen to her beating heart because then I’d know my heart was home.
I tossed her onto the bed and reluctantly strapped her arm to the headboard. Was it wrong that I felt victorious at that moment? I’d waited so long for the chance to be with her again. I was obsessed with this notion that I could somehow purge myself of her.
Juliana
Devlin took the best years of my life, and I repaid the favor when I walked out on him. Even though I didn’t know who he was and what he’d taken from me, as I walked away I knew it would crush him. I’d been tempted to go back, and I probably wouldn’t have buried myself so far from his grasp if I hadn’t discovered the truth.
When I opened my eyes, a very uncanny sense of déjà vu took hold of me. I was as captive as the first time we met, and he was as angry as the last time I saw him. He stood over the bed, his face fiercely contorted. I absentmindedly pulled on the rope, and our gazes locked as the headboard shook with the force.
There was so much to say, but so much caution exerted by both of us. I thought everything between us had fractured when I’d left, so I couldn’t explain to myself the ongoing connection.
The ropes that bound my wrists were unnecessary. The only restraint practiced in the room was my mind fighting to restrain the rapid beating of my heart as it sang a song orchestrated by this man.
The most constraining bonds he used were invisible and had been weighing me down from the moment I’d walked away. If anything, being in this room with him was freeing. The heaviness in my heart lifted as I gazed into his eyes, stared at his face, and silently ached for his hands on my body.
He wore his anger as a cloak. When I looked into his eyes, I saw the man I fell I love with, hurt and devastated—lost, even. He was desperate to be near me, to be in me. I was his home, and I’d yanked that away from him years ago. I know he thought he’d wear me out of his system this way, but until one or both of us ceased to exist, we’d remain a homestead to each other. A beacon that called to our souls. I was mystified by his darkness, and he was dazzled by my light. And it was dangerous.
I hated that I couldn’t forgive and forget him altogether. The contradicting memories ate away at my soul—confusing me—and kept him alive in my heart.
Despite the pain, the ugliness, and the hate I felt—he lived inside of me in some capacity. Whether it was the years I loathed him or the years I loved him, Devlin Ward had woven himself into my DNA and become my lifeblood. It was a sick, twisted emotion, but lying to myself about it didn’t make it go away.
“Devlin, please,” I pleaded with him as he climbed onto the bed. We needed to talk. We needed to yell, scream, and cry, but that’s not what he had in mind. What he had in mind would blur away everything else until the only thing that remained were sensations and the kind of desire that blinded us to our reality.
He hovered over me. He slid one finger in between my breasts. My skin responded, pebbling and tingling with anticipation. With that one contact of his rough fingertip running over my skin, I was alive again—connected to my lifeline. I wanted his hands on me, even knowing his caresses were like a devil’s touch—tempting me to the dark side.
“Devlin…”
My warnings were ignored. He was so extremely focused on the goal, I was sure he never even heard me. He pulled his shirt over his head and I gasped, and then internally scolded myself for responding to him in any way. He was bigger than I remembered. He used to be all lean muscles, but had somehow transformed into thick, corded muscles that presented an even stronger threat. He pulled his pants and underwear down in one swoop. His cock sprang out, and there was a tightening in my chest. It was a combination of lust, hate, love, and fear of how much he still affected me.
I turned my head away, no longer able to look at him as my body began to betray me. His fingers were in the junction of my thighs, probing me salaciously and inducing the kind of arousal only he’d been able to produce.
I fought my urges to moan and to push into his sensual manipulations. He spread me open with his fingers. I held my breath and screwed my eyes shut as he pushed his swollen cock into me.