Seduce(18)

Wasn’t she supposed to be angry with him about something?

It popped back into her head.

He was obviously using her. He was never going to give her what she truly craved from him. He would seek shallow satisfaction from her, an emotionless sexual relationship, and she wouldn’t be able to take it. She wasn’t made for that sort of thing. She couldn’t. The attraction she felt for him would blossom into something terrible, something that would end up killing her when he finally tired of her and cast her aside.

Sera slammed her fist into the side of his head, knocking him off her and into the red velvet couch beside them. She was on her feet before he could react, leaving him sitting on the floor.

“You are driving me crazy,” he whispered, his eyes ringed by red and fixed on her. He touched the bloom of crimson on his cheek where she had struck him and smiled grimly. At least it wasn’t a forced smile. It was as real as they came, if not a little frightening. What was he thinking in there? Did she drive him crazy in a good way, or a really bad way?

Was it wise to anger an aristocrat?

Antoine got to his feet, dusted down his black trousers, frowning at them, and then raised his head and looked straight back into her eyes.

At least the red had gone from his irises.

He raked his fingers through his thick dark brown hair. It was hard not to stare at the strip of body on view between the two sides of his open silver-grey shirt as he moved, his muscles flexing in a symphony so beautiful it would melt the hardest of hearts.

“Sera.” He spoke her name on a sigh, a soft exhalation that made it sound like a prayer to God, a plea for salvation.

She would give it to him if he only asked it of her. She would share the burden that weighed him down. He only had to speak to her and let her in. He only had to give up his fight.

Sera stood her ground as he approached, his steps slow and cautious, as though he feared she would either lash out at him or bolt again should he move any faster. She probably would. When he reached her, he brushed his knuckles across her cheek, curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, tangling them in her blonde hair, and lured her in for the softest kiss she had ever experienced.

It only lasted a bare second before he broke away to press his forehead to hers, their noses touching. He breathed hard, his chest brushing hers with each deep inhalation, and his fingers tightened against the nape of her neck, as though that brief kiss had been too much for him. It had been too much for her. The pleasure of it had been overwhelming, consuming, and devastating. Her heart pounded, the beat as fast as the one in her mind. Antoine’s.

“Sera,” he whispered, supplicating her again, and she wished she knew what he wanted when he said her name that way so she could give it to him. He sighed. “I do not want to hurt you.”

That was good. She didn’t want that either. She could definitely go along with that.

He stroked her cheek with his other hand and pressed his forehead harder against hers. His fingers clutched the back of her neck, his emotions taking a turn for the worse on her senses, so they blared in alarm. Danger. That wasn’t good.

“Antoine?” she said, hoping to bring him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him.

He growled. “I do not want to hurt you... but I do not want to end up hurt, either.”

Sera reacted on instinct the second an immense wave of pain crashed over him and into her. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, pressing one hand against his shoulder blade and the other against the back of his head. He was surprisingly compliant, not fighting her as she moved and pulled him closer, so his head settled in the crook of her neck. His other arm snaked around her, fingers pressing in deeply, clutching her to him.

She frowned.

He was trembling.

What terrible scars did his heart bear?

She wanted to ask him that question but it would only drive him away.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and then another, and worked towards her throat. She tipped her head to one side, letting him have his way, enjoying the softness of his mouth on her. He licked her, pressing his tongue into the line of her vein, and she moaned. Questions burned in her mind, things she needed answers to and was sure would give her clues as to how to unlock his heart. She wasn’t brave enough to stop him and pose them. If she did, she would ruin the moment. He wouldn’t answer them anyway. He wasn’t a man who would do as others ordered. He did everything on his own terms. If he wanted to tell her, then he would, in his own time.

For now, she was satisfied with the knowledge that he didn’t want to hurt her, and that part of his distance was because he too didn’t want to be hurt by someone.

Again.