THIRTY-THREE
Milan
PRESENT
Sunlight streams through the curtains, waking me from my dreamless sleep.
Dreamless.
Usually, my nights are an endless battle against insomnia. When I do manage to fall asleep, I’m tormented by nightmares and restless tossing and turning.
But today it’s different.
For the first time in over a year, I slept so peacefully.
It’s as if her presence has chased away the demons my subconscious fights with.
When I turn my head, I see she’s still lying next to me, asleep.
My eyes remain fixed on her. The way her dark hair spreads out on the pillow, the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath. Her eyelashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks, and the freckles on her nose make her look more innocent than she truly is.
I feel my fingers twitch with the urge to touch her, to trace the curves and lines of her body. I want to explore every inch of her, memorize every freckle and mole, sink into her again and taste her once more.
I’m a fucking addict. And she’s my favorite drug.
My gaze shifts to the clock on the wall. 5:14 a.m.
Julian’s gonna kill me if I’m not at the racetrack in half an hour. But I’m not ready to leave her side just yet.
Being suspended from school for the next few weeks means I can spend this time training for my upcoming race.
Fucking Tristan Dallas.
The fact that he even had the audacity to talk to her, let alone put his hands on her. I could fucking kill him for it.
My eyebrows knit together as I look at the closed door, where a wooden dresser has been pushed in front of it.
I was so focused on my little curse last night that I didn’t even notice that barrier in front of the door. Why would she block the entrance to her room, like she was making sure no one could get in and out?
I study her sleeping figure, my eyes narrowing as if I’m searching for answers in her flawless face.
We’re the only ones in her house. I would’ve noticed otherwise. So there’s no reason for her to keep anyone out.
Unless … she’s afraid of something. Or someone.
Every time I think there’s nothing left about her that I don’t know, she reveals a new mystery.
The thought that there’s something or someone out there that scares her makes my blood boil. I want to find whoever or whatever it is that’s causing her fear, and I want to make them suffer. No one has the right to make her feel unsafe, to make her feel like she has to barricade herself in her room.
No one gets to hurt her. No one gets to scare her. I’ll be damned if I let anyone lay even a single finger on her.
My thoughts are interrupted by her waking up. I watch as she rolls onto her back, the sheets sliding down her body to reveal her bare shoulders.
She looks at me with those green eyes, surprise flashing across her face, and a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. “You didn’t leave?”
I smirk, amused by her expression. “No. Were you hoping I was gone?”
“No,” she replies quickly. “I just thought you’d regret it and disappear.”
“Regret?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Who says that?”
I catch a flicker of uncertainty in her expression. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand, sweetheart?” My thumb traces the curve of her jaw.
“I don’t understand what you want from me. Sometimes you’re one way, sometimes another. You ignore me, then you comfort me. You show me your hideaway, then you get mad when I talk to someone else. And you beat up McKinney only to show up on my balcony that same night. What am I supposed to make of all this? Do you have any idea what it feels like? You’re driving me insane!”
Her sudden outburst surprises me.
But it also stirs something deep inside me.
The fire in her eyes, her flushed cheeks and that defiant scowl on her face – I can’t help but want to pin her down and take her right here, right now.
“Oh, I know exactly what that feels like,” I answer. “You drive me insane too, in ways you can’t even imagine.”
I lean closer, pressing my lips against the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. “And don’t put his name in your mouth. That bastard got what he deserved.”
McKinney should consider himself lucky that he can still walk.
“You destroyed his car and made him beg for forgiveness on his knees.”
“Yeah, I know. I should’ve broken his arms and legs.”
“No? You overreacted. I doubt he’ll dare show his face at school after what happened yesterday.”
“Good, he should be afraid of me for the rest of his life. No one touches what’s mine.”
She snorts. “Are you obsessed with me or something?”
My lips find her neck again and I nibble at her skin.
“Obsession. Possession. Addiction. Call it whatever you want. I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”
I feel her heart racing under my touch. Her eyes widen, but the surprise shifts to anger and she turns her back to me.
“You’re such an idiot,” she mutters, “You can’t take anything seriously, can you?”
I hate that she thinks I’m not serious.
Doesn’t she see what she’s doing to me? How ready I am to fulfill her every fucking wish if she’d just say it?
I grab her hip and pull her against me. “I’m dead serious. I want all of you. Every. Single. Inch."
Her body tenses, but I don’t let her go. I press my chest against her back, my breath hot against her neck.
“You have no idea,” I whisper in her ear. “I want to devour you. Consume you. Conquer you in every possible way. And you can deny it all you want, but you want it too, sweetheart. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
My hand traces the contours of her waist. “But I like seeing you upset. Your fiery little temper turns me on.”
My cock throbs in sync with my pulse.
“That’s the problem with you. You enjoy getting me worked up, like a damn game.”
“You’re not a game,” I correct her. “You’re a fucking challenge. And I like pushing your buttons.”
She lets out a soft gasp as my lips reach her ear, and her body responds to my touch by pressing her ass against my erection.
I groan, my grip on her hips tightening involuntarily.
“You’re not making this easy for me.” My voice is rough with desire. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off you when you’re so damn tempting?”
But she pushes even harder against me, rubbing her ass against my erection. “Maybe I like watching you struggle with your self-control.”
So that’s how it is.
She inhales sharply as I rip the sheet away, flip her onto her back and pin her beneath me. Her eyes widen as her naked chest is completely exposed to my gaze.
The soft waves of her hair frame her blushed face. Her skin is like silk, smooth and flawless, marked by my bruises. Her body is petite and curvy in all the right places, and my hands burn to touch her.
There’s a spark in her eyes, a blaze of defiance that only fuels my desire for her.
She’s fucking beautiful, fiery and all mine.
“You know you’re just asking for trouble, don’t you?” I trace my finger down between her breasts. “Teasing me like this, tempting me to lose my self-control. You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”
Her eyes flutter as I press my lips to her breasts and her body arches toward me.
“You- … That’s exactly what I meant! You say that and then-” She lets out a soft moan as I bite her nipples.
“And then what, sweetheart?”
Her breath comes in ragged gasps as I continue my sensual assault on her body. Her eyes are closed, her head thrown back and her lips parted in ecstasy.
“Then you do this,” she blurts out. “You touch, tease and make me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. And then you just leave me hanging.”
I lift my head to look at her. “I don’t leave you hanging."
Her chest rises and falls quickly as she tries to catch her breath. “You always do. I don’t trust you.”
With her lips pursed like that, she looks like an angel.
A sinful, delicious, seductive angel.
It frustrates me that she doesn’t trust me, but can I blame her? Lately, I don’t even trust myself.
I wanted to destroy her, get revenge on her.
All along, I thought I was invincible, untouchable. I was wrong. Because now I have a weakness, and she’s my greatest one. My kryptonite.
I run my fingers through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “And why don’t you trust me?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to,” she replies. “You’re unpredictable. One moment you’re nice, the next you’re cruel. You give me mixed signals. You’re a mystery.”
I rest my forehead against hers. “You’re a mystery too.”
“Why?”
With my head, I point to the door. “Why is the door barricaded?”
Her expression changes slightly, and I can see a hint of hesitation in her eyes. “It’s just something I do at night.” She avoids my gaze. “It’s kind of a security measure.”
I tighten my jaw. “Security measure? Against what?”
“I feel safer this way.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“What do you mean, you don’t believe me?”
“I mean I’m not stupid, sweetheart. I know you’re hiding something from me. Why are you really barricading the door?” I ask again.
“It’s a habit. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”
She’s a terrible liar.
But forcing her to tell me something she doesn’t want to share won’t do any good. I’ll use my own tactics to find out the reason for the barricade.
I take her hand and run my thumb over her knuckles. That’s when I notice something I’ve never seen before – the absence of bandages.
I carefully trace the scars, feeling the uneven texture of her skin.
No scar in the world could take away her beauty.
Her gaze follows my movement, but she doesn’t pull away, doesn’t try to hide or conceal the scars. Perhaps she knows it’s pointless to hide them from me.
“I want a sculpture.”
“What?” she asks, surprised.
“You heard me. Give me one of your sculptures.”
Her eyes widen a bit. “Why do you want that?”
I let go of her hand. “Because I like the idea of owning something you created with your own hands.”
She hesitates for a moment, a mix of uncertainty and something else in her eyes. “I don’t know. Which one do you even want?”
That’s not a difficult question.
“The lotus flower.”
A hint of curiosity flashes across her face. “You like lotus flowers, huh? You even have a tattoo.”
Like doesn’t quite capture it. Lotus flowers hold a deeper meaning for me – a meaning I could never explain to her.
“You could say that.”
“Lotus flowers have a special meaning for me too. Someone once told me a story about lotus flowers …”
As she recounts the story, my chest fills with a feeling of tension. I know who’s responsible for telling this Chinese legend, and the thought of him makes me uneasy.
“Enough about lotus flowers.” I place my hand on her waist. “I want to do something else.”
Her breath hitches. “What do you want to do?”
I lean closer, my lips hovering just above her ear. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ll show you.”
My hand finds the fabric of her panties and I run my index and middle finger over her center. She pants, her body arching under my touch, but she tries to hold on to her defiant attitude.
The throbbing of my cock is unbearable as I feel how wet she already is. “You’re drenched, sweetheart.”
“That’s not fair,” she bursts out, her voice trembling slightly.
I take her hand and press it against my hard erection in my boxers. “And rubbing your ass against my dick is fair? Look what you’ve done.”
Her face reddens in embarrassment, but her body betrays her. Her hips instinctively move against my hand.
“That’s not the same.”
“You started it, sweetheart.” I rub up and down over the fabric, memorizing how she bites her lower lip.
Aliya whimpers, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. She looks like she’s fighting with herself.
God, I love this.
I push her panties aside and apply pressure, making her body writhe beneath me. “Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I … want you,” she gasps, her voice barely a whisper.
That’s it.
She catches her breath as I flip her onto her stomach and swiftly strip off her panties. At the same time, I pull down my boxers.
Not a second later, I sink into her, feeling her familiar warmth envelop me like a second skin.
Fuck Julian.
He can wait a while longer.