Alaric
The new marks I carved into my skin hours ago don’t ache nearly as much as being away from Lilith does.
It’s only been ten minutes since I left her to run a trial or two on Fraser. Ten minutes, and I already feel the fragile grip I’ve had on my sanity slipping.
It’s like my thoughts can’t stop circling back to her. Each one twists my heart, bruising my chest, refusing to let go.
They’re what pulled me out of the storage unit before I even set foot inside. What drove me across the hall and into the elevator.
And now my thumb crushes the button for the thirtieth floor like I can force it to move faster.
I miss her.
I need her.
I’m so fucking lost.
A light tremble courses through my hands, the anticipation to touch her as strong as ever.
My heart, it doesn’t just beat. It wounds me with every single thump, and I know, I just know that…
I deserve this for disappointing her.
Up until yesterday, I’d been Lilith’s hero. I’d been her lover.
I’d been someone she could count on.
Then she came face-to-face with my secret life in the worst possible way.
Even if she knew before yesterday, knowing and seeing are two different things. It had to have been a shock. Not the kind of shock a person gets over in a day.
That’s why every reassurance she’s given me has sounded like a lie. A manipulation.
Not because she’s a conniving person. Because her survival instincts spoke for her.
The elevator goes up, up, up.
The pounding in my head is killing me.
When she cried for me, when she passed out this morning, I was this close to jamming the knife between my ribs and being done with it.
Done with her pain. With forcing her into a life as the girlfriend and later wife of a murderer.
But then I realized that if I died, she’d eventually belong to someone else. He’d make her laugh. She’d tease him with her sultry voice. They’d have a family of their own.
Un-fucking-acceptable.
Lilith and I will lead a long and—one day—happy life. Together.
The elevator pings, the sound light, unlike the loud roar of blood between my ears.
I smooth down my gray T-shirt and shove my hands into my jeans as I head over to my apartment.
As soon as I step inside, a question rushes into my mind.
What if she wasn’t manipulating you?
I don’t know.
I don’t know.
My headache worsens as doubts start piling up. Doubts that weren’t there earlier, when I bathed her again, helped her to the bathroom, and let her drink a protein shake for dinner through the gags.
One thing I’m sure of is that I’m sick of holding her captive.
I just want things between us to go back to how they were.
I just want her.
And she’s…asleep.
Even though I’m standing in the doorway, I can tell she hasn’t so much as stirred while I was gone.
When she’s awake, the air is lighter. My space warmer.
Now silence, the heavy kind, presses in on me. It’s another weight on top of the guilt over this thing I’m doing. Holding the woman I love captive, silencing her, monitoring her every move…
My teeth grind audibly, the sound thunderous in the quiet apartment.
It’s been a little over twenty-four hours, and I already can’t take another second of living in this body.
These hands, these muscles, this fucking brain inside my head—they’re to blame for having Lilith bound not only to the bed but to me.
However. I can’t bring myself to let her go.
I won’t.
As one obsessive thought chases another, a dark, primal feeling sneaks up on me. A thief in the night.
The longer I stand here, the more it festers. Grows. Takes root.
I want her.
My cock has never been thicker. Never felt like it was going to rip through my jeans.
Looking at her, hugging her, that won’t do anymore. Won’t quiet the storm inside of me.
If I could only swipe my tongue over her clit, once, while she’s asleep…
I—no. Fuck no. I won’t violate her. Won’t put my needs first and harm her in the process.
I’ll die before I do that.
Hugging her, that’s still okay.
Keys. Boots. Socks. Everything gets left at the door.
Trust her.
That whisper, it slithers into my head as I cross my living room.
Trust. Her.
I never wanted anything more in my life.
Maybe I should.
Maybe a part of me already does.
With this sliver of warmth in my heart, I crack open our bedroom door.
Slipping into the darkness, I find Lilith where I left her, lying on her back, the silver moonlight kissing her body wherever it touches.
Her soft features, her full breasts beneath the white nightgown I dressed her in, the valley of her stomach leading to that hot space between her thighs.
Mine.
My pulse races as I take her in. My dick leaks with desire.
I will. Not. Harm. Her.
Repeating that in my head silences the beast. My sanity pushes through, my mind resolved to protect Lilith from myself.
Only then do I step closer.
The mattress dips when I sit on the edge of the bed. My pulse quickens because grazing my knuckles along her jawline, over the gag and chin, feels holy. I won’t take that for granted ever again.
“Hey.” My voice is gravelly, my hand keeps skimming, touching, connecting us.
Her eyes flutter open as soon as the word leaves my mouth.
The glimmer in them tells me she might be happy it’s me.
Another layer of fear falls away. More trust settles in.
“I’m sorry.” It’s my millionth apology. She’s owed a million more before I even dare ask for her consent. “For being a fuck-up. For shattering the image you had of me. For being a murderer.”
Tears gather in her eyes, but it’s not sadness I see there. Something tender shines in them, possibly hope. Or forgiveness.
My heart lodges in my throat. This kind of raw, genuine emotion can’t be faked. I don’t believe she accepts me, not yet. Still, whatever this is, it’s progress.
It means she doesn’t hate me.
It’s all I could ever ask for.
Lilith’s chest rises and falls as my fingertips trace her neck, her collarbone.
“I’ve missed you.” I let my palm rest between her breasts, where I feel her heart beating. “I want to fuck you, Lilith. Want to be with you again.”
A nod of her head.
Approval.
That’s another step in the right direction. I breathe easier for that.
However, I can’t shake the doubts that plague me. If I still have her bound to the bed, how can I say I trust her when she consents to sex?
“There will be no judgment, anger, or disappointment if you say no. It doesn’t mean I’ll set you free just yet, either.” The words scratch my throat, no matter how true they are. “Shake your head, little devil. Just shake it, and I swear on my life, I’ll go to bed with a fucking smile on my face.”
Lilith waits for me to finish before nodding again. That patience, that long pause instead of rushing to please me, it’s the type of reassurance I didn’t know I needed.
It makes part of me believe what she said this morning. After my confession.
I think—not now, when I just want to feel her and let her feel me, but soon, even sooner than I originally thought—that I’ll let her talk. Dammit, I miss her voice. I’m desperate to trust her.
“Are you sure?” I insist, because fuck my hard cock. Fuck the pressure in my groin too.
She. Comes. First.
As she nods, her eyebrows draw together, her gaze shooting daggers at me.
She’s pissed that I don’t believe her.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Open them.
Whisper, “God, I love you.”
And start.
Despite the urgency flooding my blood, I’m gentle as I bunch her nightgown up her belly.
A curse rushes past my lips at the sight of that pink, spread open cunt. Her chest rises and falls as eager little sounds slip past her gags.
“So beautiful. So perfect.” My index finger drags along her inner thigh, coating my fingertip with her arousal. When I tease the seam where her pussy meets her thigh, her body arches off the bed, the primal need in her mirroring mine. “So fucking wet. Is that for me?”
Another nod. Like the others before it, this one isn’t panicked.
She isn’t doing any of this to please me or because I scare her.
“Good girl.” I bend over to kiss her clit, pulling a sharp gasp from her. “Keep being honest with me. If you’re happy, mad, or horny, I need to know. I want to trust you. I want to get out of my own head.”
Lilith’s hum is her way of saying we’ll do it together.
Then she devours me with her gaze as I climb off the bed and lose my clothes. Her eyes darken at the sight of the bandage on my torso, her toes curling, her feet stretching.
No other man has ever been as desired as she makes me feel. That lust, more than her beauty, her scent, and her inviting cunt, is why my cock throbs, leaks, and aches.
“Until a month ago, I’d never been ashamed of who I was.” I move to kneel between her spread legs, then lean in and swipe my tongue over her slick thigh. Fuck, I’ve missed this. “Then, that first time I saw you in the cafeteria, I could barely stand myself.”
When I told her about this yesterday, she wasn’t in the perfect state to listen, I know that. That’s why I repeat this. Why I’ll have to explain in detail what she does to me.
I lick her arousal off the other thigh. Lilith moans into the gags, and my fingers dig into her legs. It’s either that or I drive my cock deep and fast into her.
“You looked at me like I was worthy. Like I deserved you.” Needing to make this good for her, I flick my tongue on her clit over and over, loving the way her hips buck. “But I’m not Mr. Right. Not Prince Charming or a knight in shining armor. I’m tainted.”
She shudders when I start eating her out. Moans and cries from being licked, sucked, and devoured so thoroughly by this man who’s starving for her and only her.
When I slide two fingers into her heat, curl them, and rub that swollen spot while swirling my tongue over her clit, she comes with a loud sob. I remove my hand in time so that her juices run down my chin.
After lapping it up like the addicted bastard I am, I kiss her clit and crawl up her body.
My gaze soaks up her beautiful, post-orgasmic face.
Her droopy eyelids, the glassy eyes. There’s pleasure in them.