“I don’t want to go,” she expels softly. “But it’s going to be hard to trust you again.”
Hope swells inside of me. “We’ll take it slow. We have this place for two weeks. We can spend it getting to know each other. No pressure.”
Ellie just flicks the collar of my shirt thoughtfully, not agreeing to anything. That tiny bit of hope rising inside me suddenly becomes a violent cyclone of water escaping down a drain.
“I ruined your shirt,” she says.
“I don’t give two shits about my shirt.” I grab her, straddling her legs over my lap, serious now. “You can get mad, scream, hit me, beat me, torture me if you want. I’ll endure it all if it means you’ll stay.” I hold onto her hips tightly, vulnerability seeping out of every pore in my body. “I don’t think I can survive another day without you in my life.”
She stares deeply into my eyes with her hands resting on my chest, so wrackingly quiet.
“Please,” I beg. Yes, me. I beg.
“Okay.” Her response is so soft I barely hear it.
“Okay?” I repeat just to make sure I didn’t dream it.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
“Really?”
Ellie cracks a smile. “Yes, really. But we go slowly.”
“I can do slow.”Yeah, right.But I’ll try.
Ellie brushes her hands over my chest, separating my shirt. I unbuttoned it with the intention of changing, but I never made it past the couch or the last two buttons. I struggle to sit still while she reacquaints herself with my body, running her palms over my skin and stopping at my tattoo. She always was fascinated by the large colorful compass over my heart.
“Look hard,” I tell her.
“At what?”
“The ink.”
She stares at the tattoo, then gasps. Written in very tiny script is her name on the needle pointing North.
“You’re crazy.”
“Without a doubt,” I chuckle.
Her expression softens as she rubs the tip of her finger over her name. I have no control over what happens next. She feels so fucking good straddled on top of me, touching me the way she is. I tuck a piece of hair that’s come loose from her ponytail behind her ear and the contact is magnetic. I lean forward, starving for just one tiny taste. She allows me to brush my lips against hers, never closing her eyes. I do it again, our gazes still locked. The third time, I apply more pressure, wrapping my arm around her waist. She kisses me back with just as much ferocity as this afternoon, and soon our slow, simple act becomes passionately charged.
I slide my hands eagerly under her dress and palm her ass while I swipe my tongue between her lips. She opens her mouth, allowing me in while simultaneously wrapping her arms around my neck. I crush her down against my erection, the two of us moaning as our hips clash together. With my heart starting to race, I slip my thumb under the silky material of her thong desperate to play with her, tickle her, lick her, fuck her. All the things she dangled in front of my face earlier tonight. Just as I begin to massage small circles over her folds, eager to sink my finger into the wet heat I’ve been dreaming about for the last twelve months, Ellie grabs my wrist.
“Kayne, no.”
“No?” I halt. “Why no?” I test the waters by trying to move my hand.
Ellie pants. “Because I need to know that no is an option.” She rests her forehead against mine.
“Of course, it is. I never want to take anything away from you. Ever again. I want to give you everything. Make you happy any way I can.” I look up at her. “I would lie, cheat, steal,killto keep you happy, Ellie. I would kill for you.” I grab her neck. “I meant it then, and I mean it even more now. I would kill for you.” I stress the words, caught up in her penetrating stare.
With a small smile, she drops a kiss on my lips. “Tonight,” she breathes, “I need you to just lay with me.”
I WAKE UP WITH KAYNE’Sarm locked around my waist. His hold is so tight it’s nearly suffocating me.
Last night was one of the longest of my life. So much information shared, so many questions answered, and an abundance of emotion soaring to the surface. Jett was right; Kayne has some deep-seated insecurities and has been severely deprived. But he also showed me how passionate and strong his convictions lie. Yes, what he did was monumentally fucked up, but there’s no denying it bonded us. The pull is so strong it feels unbreakable. And that’s scary as hell.
I don’t know where I found the strength to deny him last night, but I needed to do it. I needed to know that he would never force me again. And he didn’t, despite his raging hard on and the unbridled lust in his eyes. He just carried me to bed, wrapped me in his arms, and fell asleep. Almost too easily. Too naturally.
