I didn’t track the lean features that were etched with annoyance or disdain or impatience at my rejecting him. This time, I saw the lines of worry and the serious angst in his stormy eyes.
He cares.
He really does.
After he’d gotten me off on the table that one time, I’d been so bothered by the fact that he saw me as a convenient thing to play with. Not a person to appreciate.
In the darkness of the kitchen, alone with him in the middle of the night, I felt seen like never before. I experienced the wonder of being cared for and worried about like I hadn’t been in so long—if ever.
“I…”
“What’s wrong?” he asked again, almost desperate for me to tell him. He brought his other hand up and framed my face with both of them as he urged me toward him. “What is it?” He pressed his lips to my forehead before rearing back to search my face again. “Fuck, Sofia. What’swrong?”
The simple touch of his lips on my forehead broke me.
He wasn’t faking anything with me. He wasn’t trying to seduce me. He hadn’t shown up to taunt me and flirt with me—maybe he’d wanted to at first. But his eyes seared me with concern, not lust.
“I was thinking about some stuff. Dark and heavy stuff.” Esmeralda’s inevitable premature death would be hard enough. But to know she was suffering in her last days? It was too cruel. Too ugly. And with Andre here, so worried and willing to make me feel better, I fell under the spell of wanting it.
Of needing him.
Of tossing all my woes and worries aside just to embrace somethinggoodfor once.
“And…” I let out a shaky breath, committing this turning point to memory. The depth of sincerity in his dark-blue eyes. The shadows on his rugged face and the start of stubble that made him look rougher.
The grip of his hands on me grounded me, and I discovered thatI can’tdidn’t have to meanI won’t.
“And I don’t want anything dark and heavy weighing me down anymore.” I swallowed hard, knowing that once I went down this path, there would be no turning back. “I want… something good. For a change. For as long as I can. I want…” I frowned and reached up to kiss him.
Heat infused me through the contact. His hot lips parted for me. A low, visceral grunt shot from him, and I swallowed it down.
Kissing him like he was my lifeline, I dared to think it could be this easy. That surrendering—at last—I could have a loophole to having to deal with feeling like a liar and traitor. That I could take this shortcut out of stressing about Esmeralda and hating my uncle.
“I’ll show you something good,” he said on a gravely rasp when we parted for air.
I clung to him, kissing him again before he could retract the offer.
“I need you, Andre. Please, I don’t want to fight it anymore. I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to fightus.”
He growled again before slamming his hungry lips on mine. Wet and demanding, he brushed his mouth over mine and insisted that I open for him. As I did, welcoming his tongue, chasing his taste, he banded his arms around me and clutched me tightly.
Lust filled my veins. Adrenaline pumped my heart faster. The thrill and elation of his dominating me—heart, mind, and body—was the trifecta of an escape I’d been needing all this time.
“Please,” I begged. “I need… I want… you, Andre. I?—”
He cut me off with another ragged kiss, forcing his mouth over mine with so much pressure that he canted my head back and had me craning my neck as he leaned me against the edge of the counter. His arms slid lower, and when his hands found purchase on my hips, I gasped against his open mouth as he hoisted me up.
Onto the counter. The cool surface chilled my thighs, but he didn’t keep me there long. I had a half of a second to wrap my legs around his waist before he picked me off the counter and carried me away.
Closing my eyes allowed me to savor the heat of his kiss. Holding on to him tightly emphasized his fingers digging into my ass. And with every step he took as we left the room, the hard bulge of his erection rubbed against my core.
Mindless with desire and helpless to think or speak, Ifelthim. And it was just what I needed. All I could handle.
His hands as he carried me. The thudding steps of him walking through the house. The heat of his kisses and the bite of his nips as he dragged his mouth down my neck.
Once he’d brought me to his room, he kicked the door shut and strode toward his bed.
I hadn’t been in here since that first night. When I’d sat here so nervously but driven to give him all the first-aid that I could.
