11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Eva
Luke walks me into his room, and I immediately close my eyes, desperately trying to maintain some composure as he lowers me to my feet.
It’s pointless. My front slides against his, feeling every muscle, every curve, every inch of him on my way down.
It steals my breath, and my body shakes uncomfortably when the soles of my heels press to the plush carpet.
“You’re nervous, Little Warrior.”
My heart drills. “It’s been a long time,” I say, wishing I hadn’t. Embarrassment washes over me like a roll of nausea. I look for a way out. Anything that will bring me back to Luke. Back to this moment.
Luke does it for me, sweeping a hand through my hair, holding me at my nape. “You don’t have to be nervous with me.” He leans down, placing a kiss firmly on my lips. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not unless you want me to.”
I force a laugh, trying to play things cool when he pulls back, but the straight face looking back at me makes me think he’s deadly serious. Maybe it should deter me, make me want to get the hell out of here.
But it doesn’t. If anything, it makes my stomach cartwheel with excitement.
I haven’t orgasmed like I did with him. Not even with the toys I bought for myself, nothing has ever come close. Perhaps because I know how good it could be to have that again, I take a steadying breath, trying to calm my nerves.
“You ready to give yourself over to me, Eva? ”
I nod. “I think so.” I close my eyes, swallowing hard. Then I lift my hands behind me to unzip my dress.
I hear Luke blow a small breath, the warmth of it hitting my face. “What are you doing?” he asks, his hands lifting to mine. Stopping me.
“Undressing,” I tell him, hearing how unsexy I sound.
His growl steals my composure. “That’s my job. Unless of course I tell you to take off your clothes. Understood?”
I’m not sure if I’m right because my eyes are still firmly closed, but judging by the tone of his voice, Luke found out how hot his control and talking in the heat of the moment is. Whilst it excites me, it also stops me in my tracks like I’ve just clotheslined myself.
On a shaky breath, I drag my eyes open as I ask, “Are you fucking anyone, Luke?” My eyes jump between his.
“Eva,” he growls, but I don’t care.
“You asked me, now I’m asking you.”
“You never answered me,” he cracks, his grip still on my hands, tightening.
As much as I want to lose myself in him, I don’t think I’ll match up to the apparent sex god he’s returned as. Just the mere sight of him, hell, just the smell of him is enough to tip me over the edge. I fear if he sees me naked, sees how inexperienced I am compared to him, he’ll run again.
And as sad as it might sound, I don’t think I could go through that again.
“No. I’m not sleeping with anybody,” I say first, hoping he’ll answer too.
He doesn’t say anything right away, but he lets out a sigh. What is that? Relief? “And there was me thinking I was going to have to murder someone whilst here.”
Bit extreme, but I don’t react to his dark humour as I wait for him to give me a serious answer.
Reading my expression, he loosens his grip on my hands, moving his to the straps of my dress. “I’m not sleeping with anyone, Eva.” Then he drags them down until my front is fully exposed to him. Shit.
Trying to catch my breath, I’ve never been more grateful for Tiffany. This set was her choice. It’s mine, but I never wear it. Listening to Luke trying to breathe, I can tell she was right. He loves it .
“You’re more beautiful than I remember,” Luke says, confirming my thoughts with a shaky voice. I don’t answer him. “Eva.”
I lick my lips, my heart in my throat.
“Your eyes are closed again.”
I know . “I need the room dark.”
He laughs but stops himself when he sees I’m serious. “What?”
“Darkness, Luke. I need the room dark.” I can’t bear to look at my body naked. Not anymore.
Becoming a mother and having no sexual experience after that will do that to you, regardless of age. My confidence is non-existent. “Please,” I beg him, beginning to feel my withdrawal.
I hear him walk away from me, and I wrap my arms around myself, desperate to cover up.
“Don’t even think about it, Little Warrior.” Then he’s standing in front of me again, his warmth and presence bringing me immediate comfort, even though I feel so out of my depth.
I flinch when he presses something to my eyes.
“Blindfold,” he says, like it’s completely normal to have one on hand and ready.
“Wait—”
“Eva.” Luke presses his thumb to my lips, silencing me. He adjusts the blindfold, and the softness of it presses against my lashes. “I’m going to see you naked. If you think I would miss what I’ve been craving since the day I left you, then you’re mistaken.” He gently kisses the very tip of my nose. “So, if the blindfold makes you more comfortable, you can keep it on. But I won’t waste any more time not worshiping your body the way it’s meant to be worshipped.”
“Luke.” My voice shakes.
His hand presses to my rapidly rising and falling chest. “Shh, Little Warrior. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you’ll let me, I want to show you how fucking perfect you are.”
I go to argue, but his lips find mine, his hand sliding up my chest to cup my chin. I’m pinned between the foot of the bed and his body. As soon as he breaks away, I find myself panting, desperate for air. Hungry for more .
“Do you want me to take control, Eva?”
My mind flaps, and I’m suddenly grateful I can’t see him. “Seems like you already have,” I manage to say, licking my lips.
“Don’t be under any illusion that you’re not in control here. You are. You don’t like something, we stop. You want more, then…” He’s quiet.
“Then what?” I question, feeling exposed.
Unhooking my bra, he lets it drop to the floor, the material skimming over my hardened nipples. Cupping one boob, he sucks my nipple firmly into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the rock-hard end. My head falls back, and the pull from his lips combined with the pressure of his mouth on my skin, sends a jolt of pleasure straight between my thighs.
“Then scream louder,” he whispers against my ear. I instantly want to drop to the bed and let him have his way with me.
I’ve never felt so aroused, so alarmingly switched on to something or someone before. He’s definitely in control. But he said if I don’t want this, I can tell him to stop.
“Turn around.”
As if I will now.
I slowly manoeuvre so that the front of my legs are touching the soft cotton of the duvet.
Sweeping the hair off my back, he drapes the loose waves I’m naturally blessed with, over my shoulder.
I turn my head, my ears pricking up, my senses heightened where I can’t see.
Then the tips of his fingers are dusting my skin as he delicately unzips my dress. The sound reverberates around the open space.
My lips part, and when my dress hits the floor, the cool air begins to nip at my bare skin.
Luke’s finger runs a track from the base of my spine all the way to the base of my neck.
Goosebumps explode on my skin, covering every inch of me. My shoulders pull together, and I feel my nipples stiffen.
Luke does it again, this time running his finger to my knickers. He skims the surface, hooking his finger under the material. “These need to go,” he tells me, before carefully dragging them down my legs. His hands guide me to step out of my pile of clothes around my ankles, then he kicks them to one side.
I thought my heart was hammering when he drove me here and not somewhere else for food. But the rate at which it thumps in my chest when he next speaks has me feeling dizzy. “Hands, Eva. Put them behind your back.”
He’s going to tie them. Bound me and restrict me. I wouldn’t know if that was for my pleasure or because of his fear. So, I ask, “You still don’t like to be touched?” on barely a whisper, slowly moving my hands to where he told me to.
Luke doesn’t speak. He doesn’t take hold of my hands, either. Keeping still, I wait for him, wondering if somewhere I crossed a line.
We never spoke about it being something he didn’t like. It’s just something I worked out for myself. “Only you,” he exhales. “You’re the only one who’s touched me, Eva.”
In three years, he’s never let another woman touch him? “Only me?”
Wet lips press to my neck, and I moan when he licks up to my ear, taking my lobe between his teeth. My lips part when his breath skims my cheek. “No one ever came close to you.”
His words send me spiralling. Luke and I didn’t even have sex. But I can still remember how his mouth on me felt. How he commanded every moment by giving me the power to tell him what to do. I can’t believe another woman hasn’t come close to what we did, but equally, neither has another man for me.
It’s always been Luke. “Will you let me touch you now?”
He plants another wet kiss on my neck, a smile breaking on his face against my skin. “When I tell you, you can.” Then he’s spinning me, seemingly changing his mind about what he wants to do.
He binds my hands in front of me with what feels like his tie, and I can’t help but bite my lip nervously. I’m not nervous about what we’re about to do per se, but no one apart from Tiffany and Jamie has seen me naked in so long. They like to tell me I’ve still got it, but I don’t know what it is.
Skinny, I am not. Toned, what does that even mean? I wasn’t blessed with the gene that after having a baby fairly young, my body snapped back to how it was beforehand. I have to work to stay in shape, and lately, that hasn’t been an option for me. Not with how things have been. So, things like exercise routines have slipped.
Luke finishes tying the knot then he’s sweeping me over his shoulder. He slaps my arse as he kneels on the bed, and I squeal before he’s throwing me down and lifting my hands above my head, looping the knot over something immovable.
I pull on the material around my wrists with a gasp, my head twisting on the pillow. “What are you doing?” I begin to panic at not being able to move my hands, and more so, with them tied up, I won’t be able to touch him. And I want to. So badly.
“I told you, Eva, I’m worshiping you how you deserve to be.”
Deserve. Like I deserve to be at the mercy of this man. How many women would kill to be in my position right now? How many have been? My confidence falters at the thought. My legs begin to shake.
Pushing them together, I twist, trying and failing to protect some of my modesty.
“Let me see you, Little Warrior.” Luke stands off the bed, the mattress lifting underneath me. I hear him breathing heavy. I don’t move, still desperately trying to keep myself together. “You still want to be here?”
I still. “Yes,” I manage to say, my chest tight.
“Then do as I say, Eva. Let me see you.”
“I… I can’t,” I tell him.
Lightly gripping my ankles, Luke pulls my legs towards him, stretching me out on the bed. He slowly removes my heels, one after the other, letting them drop to the floor in turn.
I immediately try to bend my legs, but he’s quicker than me, pulling them straight again. “I promise you, Eva, if you let me take control, you’ll enjoy this.”
I know what he’s saying is true. If I listen, he’ll make me feel amazing, and that’s something I’ve missed in recent years. Swallowing, I take a breath. “I don’t like my body.” I don’t know why I tell him that. I instinctively turn my head to one side, feeling my eyes water behind the blindfold.
Luke’s hands trickle over my ankles, slowly making their way up my legs. He leans over me, placing a kiss near each of my hips. “I’ve been obsessed with your body before I even saw it,” he says, his lips tickling over my sensitive skin. Putting his weight on one hand, the other traces the scar from my knife wound, the memories of how Luke saved me begin flooding my mind. “I craved it when it was covered in ice cream.” He kisses the edge of my belly button, dotting his way south, his soft lips taking their time with each kiss he places on me as if he’s remembering everything we shared.
Then, in a silent understanding of how things have really changed, he pauses before he kisses along the scar where I had an emergency c-section, taking the longest time worshiping the part of me I love and hate the most. The part of me I wish I could change but would never dream of doing so.
Now he knows. And now he’ll probably want nothing more to do with me. I’m a mum. And whether he accepts it or not, my son will always come first. “And now I see you, Eva, for the woman you truly are.” He dots another, simple kiss. “And I need it even more.”