Chapter 5 Selene #4
For a moment, he looked dazed, but he came back to himself, taking on his familiar glower.
He pushed his still-stiff cock back into his boxers, pulled his jeans back up, and was once again just as unruffled as ever.
The only evidence of the moment we had just shared was his reddened neck, the mess that was his hair, and his wet, red lips, which wore the imprint of my teeth.
He looked a little shaky, but it was only from the jolt of erotic energy still circulating throughout his body.
Emotionally, he was gone. He hadn’t felt anything except the simplest physical pleasure, the way it hadn’t been between us since our earliest days together.
I felt like I had traveled back in time to my stay in New York.
“Satisfied?” I asked him sharply to keep from bursting into tears. All the feelings were still there; they had a stranglehold on my heart, but I didn’t want to make myself look even weaker in his eyes.
“Get up,” he demanded, ignoring my question. He ran a hand through the disheveled hair on the top of his head, and it occurred to me that, even immediately after sex, he was still just as hot as he was an asshole.
“What do you think you’ve achieved here?” My head spun, and I felt completely discombobulated. Despite the fact that I’d been able to climax—something that was inexplicable even to me—there had been no feeling in the act. Neil had just imposed himself upon my body.
“The same thing you achieved.” He cast the space between my legs a speaking look, telling me without words that we’d both enjoyed ourselves, though we had very different feelings about that fact.
His cold expression made me just as much of an object as his blonds, the ones he used to pleasure himself.
I tried to stand up, but physical weakness sent me back down to my knees.
I shook my head, frustrated with myself and with the condition that I was in.
Finally, I pulled myself to my feet using the nearest thing I could grab, the kitchen counter.
I certainly wasn’t about to ask for Neil’s help.
“Did he kiss you?” he asked abruptly, confirming my theory that this whole incident had been an extreme manifestation of the jealousy he felt over Ivan.
A sick sense of satisfaction spread through my chest at the idea that he might be a bit addicted to me. He never would have admitted it to me, though, as proud as he was.
“And quit smiling. Jesus!” he scolded me.
“And what if he did?” I asked archly, and his eyes narrowed in challenge.
“Don’t push me, Selene,” he warned.
“You’re nuts,” I muttered, trying to claw back some control over myself even as my hot skin and the feeling of his seed between my thighs continued to remind me of what had just happened.
“You’re the one who makes me nuts; you fucking know it!” he shouted again. I couldn’t handle fighting with him again; it was too much for me. He had sapped all the energy from me, and I was exhausted.
Once again, Neil had won.
“Get out,” I said, well aware of how difficult it was to reason with him.
A sudden band of pain tightened around my head right around where my scar was, and I touched it, squeezing my eyes shut.
I was barely keeping myself upright, and now I was having another one of the dizzy spells that had occasionally bothered me ever since the car crash.
“What’s your problem now?” Neil moved closer and tried to take my elbow, but I dodged away from him.
“Don’t touch me,” I said urgently. “You need to quit thinking I’m like those other women; quit using me to vent your frustrations, and quit treating me like this.
Get out of my house, and don’t come back!
” I pointed at the door, glaring up at him.
The gesture felt impotent; it wouldn’t have intimidated a child.
A tear slipped from my eye. I was letting him go, once again.
Neil stared intensely at me, his eyes gleaming bright as gold.
Then, something softened in his gaze, and he took a step toward me.
I cursed myself for the shiver of electricity that passed through my body when he cupped my face in his hand.
He wrapped one palm around the back of my neck and pressed my head into his chest.
Then, he enveloped me in a consoling hug that I never in a million years would have expected from him. He balanced his chin on the top of my head, and I was gobsmacked. I breathed in his good smell and nuzzled against the fabric of his sweater, trying to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
“I know I’m not the right person for you.
But you…” He paused, sighing. “You make me feel things that I haven’t felt before.
Often they’re uncomfortable or negative things, and I…
I don’t know how to handle them.” He stared into my eyes as he gathered up my tears on his thumb.
Then he gave me a faint, sad smile and delicately kissed the tip of my nose.
How could he go from being so unfeeling and domineering to gentle and even kind of sweet?
My forehead creased up as I allowed his touches, too torn up inside to push him away.
I would never understand him: Neil’s nature was unfathomable and extremely unstable.
I was in love with him, and I was attracted to him, though, and that wasn’t going to change.
No matter how good he was at inflicting mental wounds on me, I would remain his prisoner.
Even if it meant being devoured by his madness.
He was my eternal punishment, and I would allow him to torture my soul until the end of time.
That was what it meant to accept him.
“Do you still want me to go?” He rested his forehead against mine and shut his eyes, waiting for my answer. No, I didn’t want him to go and maybe even seek solace in some other woman. But I was afraid his mood toward me might shift once again.
He couldn’t help himself.
“I…” I attempted to answer him, but Neil stroked my waist and then my breast. His hand tightened over it, and I shivered, my head spinning. Like always, Neil excelled at seduction.
“Talk to me, Selene. What do you want?” His lips traced the curve of my throat before landing just below my ear, where he gave me a warm kiss.
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head.
“Right now, the best thing for us to do is get some space,” I managed finally while he nibbled my earlobe and his hands drifted down to the globes of my ass, groping them impulsively.
He pulled me tighter against him, and I let out a gasp, caught fast by a desire that once again burned through every part of me.
Even though I was still sore, my body was apparently ready to submit to him again.
And I had to admit that I liked Neil taking charge. I liked being at the mercy of his chaos.
“That’s the best thing to do. But what do you want to do right now?” he asked, and I struggled to resist the urge to kiss him. I stared at his full lips, the kind of mouth that would make any woman crave the most delightful sins, and took a deep breath.
“I want to be with you,” I admitted.
This relationship was destroying the both of us. We were all flame and ash, and neither of us knew how to handle the draw we both felt nor the mismatch of our natures and the intense emotions that bonded us together.
Neil appeared to be lost in his own thoughts as he tucked my hair over my shoulder and examined my neck, fully checked out of our conversation.
“Who gave you these marks?” he asked, sounding annoyed again. Had he seriously forgotten those were his handiwork?
“You, the last time you were here. And now I’m going to have more on my back and thighs,” I said with a weak smile. I was worn-out, and he must have realized that because he stared back into my eyes with his marvelous golden ones and gently stroked my cheek.
“They’re a sign of passion,” he observed in his lovely deep, lulling voice, but I wasn’t ready to concede just then.
“No, they’re a sign of you being an animal. That’s different,” I said in a contrary grumble, and he bent his head ever so slightly to graze my lips with his own.
“Leave the lovemaking to the romance movies, Babygirl. I’m my own kind of romantic. And you like me that way.” He licked the seam of my lips, and I opened them, waiting for him to venture further. But Neil had no intention of kissing me; he just wanted to get me drunk on him.
“Not true,” I whispered, holding tight to his waist.
“Liar. I can feel how badly you want me, Tinkerbell,” he said, a bare inch from my mouth.
Then he leaned forward and took my lower lip in his teeth, biting down.
The metallic taste of blood hit my tongue, and I was sure he was going to leave a scar.
Then he licked the small wound he’d given me and gave me a look of deep satisfaction.
It was as though he wanted to carve his name into me, to leave some obvious claiming mark on me.
You are mine, his eyes proclaimed.
You are nothing to me, his words told me.
And I would probably never know for certain which sentiment won out, though I was sure he thought he was making it clear to me.
“I don’t like it, though. I don’t like it when you don’t kiss me and won’t let me connect emotionally with you at all.
It’s all too cold like that; I prefer you engaged,” I said softly.
I slid my hand beneath his sweater to rub the base of his spine.
His muscles tightened when my fingers touched them, and I delighted in the smooth warmth of his skin.
Even just touching his muscles gave me a hard jolt in the bottom of my stomach.
“And I prefer you naked, Tinkerbell. Naked and needy underneath me. But only when you’re not driving me crazy,” he whispered into my ear, and I flushed.