“What the fuck am I supposed to think?” I snap. “You left me, and I had no one. NO ONE!”
I shout, my emotion and temper overtaking my usual calm, surprising even myself.
“You left me in that fucking place where I would continue to hide in that godforsaken cupboard. But you know what, Owen, you weren’t there to stop him from getting in. Once you were gone, there was nothing or no one to stop him.”
My heart pummels behind my chest as the emotions and memories of our childhood, our shitty fucking childhood, batter me like wave after wave of an angry sea.
“What did he do to you?” His voice is so deep, so deadly, that it’s practically a growl on his lips.
I shake my head.
“Cookie,” he says softly. “I’m going insane with the thoughts that are constantly going through my head. I’m not gonna lie, Luce, I’m thinking up some pretty dark shit. And that’s after I wiped the blood of a friend from me yesterday, holding her whilst she died. But all I can think about is how I left you, how I let you down, and that fucking monster did something. Please tell me.”
I shake my head again. Tears try to fill my eyes, but I’m a stubborn motherfucker and I clear my throat, along with the emotion. Pushing it back into the box where it’s supposed to live.
Chaotic and messy but locked tightly behind a tight door.
I need to stop this.
The heat radiates off his bare torso, his legs still clad in the grey sweatpants I dug out for him yesterday. His arms remain braced on either side of me, pectorals flexing with the tension caging me in.
My gaze drifts to the faint dusting of hair on his chest, I peek up at him through my lashes.
My eyes meet his lips, and he runs a tongue over them, moistening them.
I suppress a groan.
My heart rate picks up, and my legs are like jelly as his body leans against mine, his heat, his strength, his anger, his confusion.
So much between us, so much history, so much hurt, so much goddamn sexual tension. I do the one thing that I know I shouldn’t do, but I equally know is the one thing that will stop him from continuing to push this subject.
It’s as if he senses the shift. Our eyes meet, and we become magnets.
Our lips clash in the messiest and desperate of kisses, his tongue invading me as he possesses my mouth with his.
This is no tender kiss of long-lost friends and lovers reunited. It’s not a sensitive, searching, learning, roaming kiss. No, this is aI must fucking have you, and have you now I fucking will, kiss.
And I am here for it.
I groan in response and push against his chest. His hands grab my cheeks roughly as we continue to devour each other.
My heart smashes against my chest, my body responding to him in ways that it never has before. My nipples harden, and my clit throbs painfully between my legs.
He growls and drops his hand, grabbing my arse and lifting me up on the counter roughly. The bottom of my bare thighs hit the cold surface, making me gasp at the contact. He breaks the kiss and looks deep into my eyes, his fingers touching my lips lightly.
My legs open and wrap around his waist. I pull his finger into my mouth, my tongue running the length of it before sucking and nipping the tip lightly. His mossy green eyes dilating with the lust that pulses through us.
Hissing, he pulls it out before slamming his mouth back onto mine. And we are back in that tantalising, chaotic, dominating kiss.
His hands roam all over my body, and mine do the same as we greedily feel at each other.
He lifts my top off and runs his hands up to cup my bare breasts, and I arch into his touch on a moan.
I grab his arse, pulling him closer, his hard cock rubbing gloriously against my barely covered pussy.
The friction causes a whimper to escape. His grin triumphant against my mouth.
I’m about to spontaneously combust, Jesus Christ.
