The weight around my chest starts to lift. It doesn’t take long for me to be right there, and of course, he knows it. He leans over me, pulling the panties from my mouth and replacing them with his tongue, swallowing my moans, kissing the breath from my lungs. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers.
And I do.
And so does he.
My nails dig into his back as I let go and give him everything. When it’s over, he rolls us so I’m sprawled on top of him, my head tucked into his chest as he holds me tight.
“If you’re trying to stop me from going to my meeting,” he murmurs, “your plan is working.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “No. You go. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He smiles, kissing me softly. “Exactly how I want it every damn day.”
My heart flutters. “Me too.”
Drago’s only been gone half an hour, and I don’t even want to drag myself out of bed.
The moment I close my eyes, I’m back there. The worst day of my life. When I open them again, I can still feelhimon me. Not Drago. The man who ruined my life.
Shower. Maybe I need a shower.
I jump out of bed, and the world tilts violently. I blink through it, sucking in a breath.
“You’re safe, Lily. You’re safe,” I whisper, over and over, trying to rewire my thoughts.
I flick on the bathroom light, and the brightness punches straight into my skull.
I turn on the shower instead and grab my cleansing balm, trying to ignore the tremble in my fingers.
Fuck.
Maybe I should call Hallie. No. I’m stronger than this. I can deal with a panic attack on my own. I don’t need babysitting.
But my breathing grows heavier. The tremble turns into a shake. I grip the sink, staring at my reflection. I won’t let that asshole steal any more joy from me. He’s dead.
But memories don’t die.
The fear, that constant knowing that at any moment it could happen again. It still lives inside me. Tears slip down my cheeks.
Drago won’t be long. He said it was only a meeting.
I close my eyes, picturing icy blue air filling my lungs just like he taught me. Except this time, it doesn’t work. I pace the bathroom like a caged animal.
What if this isn’t just a panic attack? What if something is actually wrong?
What if no one finds me until Drago comes home?
Am I going to die? Why can’t I breathe?
I dig around in my cabinet and find my version of the cologne that I stashed here. There is no way I can make it to Drago’s room without collapsing.
I spray it, and nothing happens. I keep spraying. Nothing.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
