Willing Captive(49)

Flushed and demanding, I struggle to be free, but he calms me with a whisper, “Got you, baby. Come for me.”

Frustration tears through me, “I can’t! It’s so close, but I- I- I can’t!”

His mouth closes over my ultra-sensitive bud and he sucks. White spots blur my vision. A sob tears out of me as my body trembles and shudders with release. I buck and jerk restlessly, feeling completely out of control. But it’s okay.

Nox has me.

My body quakes one last time before it becomes limp.

That was completely exhausting.

And totally what I needed.

Panting, I allow myself to take in the stillness of the room. I blink slowly, suddenly drowsy, when I feel Nox kiss the inside of my thigh and start to rise.

His head ascends and our eyes meet. He sees too much with those eyes.

It’s suddenly too much.

I’m overwhelmed.

I swallow hard. Blinking rapidly, I whisper through quivering lips, “Never had special before.”

Nox watches me carefully, not revealing what he’s thinking.

Never revealing what he’s thinking.

A second before I fall apart, his hand wraps around my ankle and he pulls me down the length of the bed. Catching me in his strong arms, he sits on the floor at the foot of the bed, pulling me into his lap. He cradles me and now it really becomes too much.

Shoving my face into his neck, gut-wrenching sobs break free from somewhere deep in my heart. “You don’t even know what you’ve done to me. And that really sucks because you’re so fucking great, and you don’t even know that.” Shuddering breaths, then, “And it hurts to feel this much now because it shows me what a goddamn, shitty life I’ve been living.” I pause, then whisper, “You’re really amazing, Nox.”

What I don’t add is, ‘and I’m in love with you.’

Nox doesn’t coo. He doesn’t tell me everything will be alright. He doesn’t pretend I’m not a mess. But he does let me cry it out. And once I’m done covering his neck in tears and snot, he lifts my sorrow-weakened body.

Yes. Sorrow.

Sorrow is what you feel when you mourn. And I’m mourning my life.

My wasted life.

“God, I’m a blubbering mess,” I mutter as he places a strong arm around my waist, supporting me as he walks me into the bathroom.

Nox turns on the shower, then moves to stand in front of me. My blurry eyes search his face, those icy-blue eyes warmer than I’ve ever seen. Without a word, his fingers grip the bottom of my tank and he lifts it over my head, throwing it to the side. He doesn’t remove his boxers. Taking my hand, he links our fingers and leads me to the shower.

Making sure he hits the water first, he pulls me under the warm spray, careful not to wet my hair, and we stand there for a long while.

Emotionally exhausted, I don’t utter a word of complaint as he begins to wash me. Running his soapy hands all over. His palms slide down my neck as he carefully washes my breasts, lightly running his thumbs over my nipples. My eyes flutter as they tighten, craving more of his attention. We never take our eyes off each other’s.

This is not a sexy moment.

It’s a beautiful moment.

All cried out, I lose myself in the feel of his hands as one slips between my legs to cleanse the sensitive flesh there. Slowly but carefully, he works his hands, expertly caressing the globes of my ass and back up to the small mounds that are my breasts.

We rinse, step out and I stand on the mat as Nox dries me off.

Wearing only a towel, he wraps an arm around my shoulder leading me back to bed. I lie by my lonesome, but watch as he turns his back to me and removes his wet boxers. He towels himself off before stepping into a dry pair of shorts.

Walking with a purpose, he climbs into bed, laying his head down on the feather pillow. I try to turn, as per our usual spooning routine, but he stops me with a strong hand on my towel covered hip. His firm hand softens, he gently opens the towel revealing my nakedness but I don’t flush.

It’s too late for flushing. My body knows those hands. They’re imprinted all over me. Gripping my hips, he pulls me forward until my nipples brush his firm chest.

Lifting my face, I whisper, “Say something. You’re freakin’ me out.”

His lips twitch and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Lowering his face to mine, he kisses me softly and I sigh, kissing him back just as softly. Against my lips, he mutters, “Goodnight, Lily.”

Then he lifts his chin, tucks my head under, and sighs that special sigh.

Feeling around, I find his hand, link our fingers and follow him into a restful sleep. I silently pray that tonight is not a dream.

Because if it is, I don’t want to wake up.





***





Warmth on my neck wakes me. Insistent lips kiss me wetly from under my ear to the base of my throat. A mewing sound escapes me as I stretch my arms over my head, trying to break my sleep.