Wild Dirty Secret(68)

“I’m trying to protect you. From me.” His erection loomed thick and hard against my side, belying his words. “God, there’s a million reasons why this is a bad idea. You’re too young. You’ve been hurt too badly and used too much. How can you consent to me and mean it? It would be rape if I touched you.”

I pulled back and turned to face him, incredulous. “You’re saying I’m not even capable of consenting. I’m so far beyond broken that I can’t even do what another woman can. Do you know how much that insults me? When you take away my choice, it diminishes me. I don’t want to be less than anyone else. I want to be whole.”

“Christ,” he said. “I know. I’m sorry. I know.”

His apologies were like a prayer, heartfelt but falling on deaf ears. I pushed away, scrambling to the edge of the bed.

“Get away from me. Don’t touch me. Or am I not allowed to say that either? I don’t even know what I want. Is that right?”

It was right, though, whether he said it or not. I was so torn up inside, wanting him near me but fearing and loathing myself. Tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I will leave,” he said quietly. “If you want me to go. Is that what you want?”

“No,” I sobbed. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Even if I tell you to, that’s not what I really want. I just can’t say it all the time. I can’t say what I want anymore. I’m so afraid.”

He pulled me down into his arms. It hurt again, in that old familiar pain, but I didn’t fight it this time. I let him hold me and rock me and soothe me, until the tears dried up and my hurt faded into tiredness. I drifted in the cradle of his arms, in and out of sleep. Slumber wasn’t a destination but a journey, allowing my body to rest and my mind to recover.

When I woke with a soft start, he soothed me. “Shh. I’m here.”

“Luke?” Sleep weighted my voice.

“That’s right. Go back to sleep.”

“Have you been awake all this time?”

“I told you. I usually stay awake after a rush like that. I’m fine, though. You should rest.”

“I want to stay up with you. To keep you company.” I struggled awake. My mind felt like it was underwater. I stretched a little and felt him tense beside me.

“Hold still,” he said tautly.

As awareness seeped into me, I recognized the sexual tension that he held at bay. It was more than passing arousal. Gentle tremors betrayed his restraint.

“Let me help you,” I whispered. “I want to.” At his hesitation, I said, “Don’t turn me away.”

He groaned. “God help me, I don’t think I can.”

When he rolled over me, it wasn’t with a savage lust. He touched me with infinite care, his hands on the most innocuous parts of me—the bare skin of my waist, the curve of my shoulder. If it weren’t for the hard brand of his cock against my leg or the gentle thrusts he seemed unable to control, I wouldn’t have known his urgency. But he held it in check, preferring to explore my skin with the gradual caresses of a reverent lover.

Heat flared through me, urging me onward, faster, oh God, more—I needed so much more. More pressure, more of Luke.

“Do you want…?” I caught myself.

“Want what?” he panted.

“Nothing.”

But he wouldn’t let me forget. Finally I muttered, “To kiss. It’s okay if you don’t.”

A shudder ran through him at my words. “You’re going to kill me, I swear it,” he said and then kissed me.





Chapter Sixteen





Warm. His lips, his hands, the tenderness he showed me. All of it filled me with warmth, from heart-full comfort to simmering sexual awareness. The brush of his bristled jaw sent sparks along my skin. His tongue pressed to mine, and I gasped into his mouth, breathing in his air, his scent, the care he imbued in every touch.

He slid his hand beneath my shirt, slowly, slowly, giving me plenty of time to stop him, while I counted the seconds until he finally touched me there. The feel of his hand cupping my breast sent a shock through me. A whimper reached my ears—it was me. I felt drugged, by him, by giving myself over with no business and no force. This was what I had demanded from him, the right to choose this, and now that I had it, the heady taste of him threatened to overwhelm me. I had wanted the power, but this felt like surrender.

In a brief show of impatience, he tugged my shirt over my head, tossing it away. I was unraveling here, coming apart at the seams, and who knew what would be revealed underneath. It didn’t matter, not when he put his mouth to my breast, closed his lips over my nipple, and flicked it with the soft wetness of his tongue.