Chapter 23 – Vale #2
Is he naked? Did he just strip in front of me?
I can’t look. Then again, he could still be in his underwear and technically it would be safe.
I mean, all his bits would be covered, and that’s safe, right?
But do I want to play it safe right now?
I’ve never been in this situation before.
I don’t know whether to look or be respectful and look away.
Oliver laughs and I can’t help myself, I want to see his face, his smile.
I look up and there he is, water dripping from his long hair, slicing down his body in rivulets that reflect the pool lights, a bright smile plastered to his lips.
I take in a deep breath as my eyes wander over his body. My jaw drops.
His body looks like it’s carved from pale stone, defined by strong muscles.
His shoulders are broad, and his abs are cut deeply with shadowed grooves that lead down to the V of his hips as it disappears into his underwear.
Oh, my God, that’s his . . . my brain is officially broken.
I stare at his crotch for much longer than is strictly necessary.
Days could have gone by while I stare at it.
It’s huge. It’s not normal to be built like that.
Although, he is tall, and Kat told me about tall men and shoe size.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he says, and I struggle to understand his words. They don’t exactly hit home.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble because I can’t look away, I can’t form a coherent sentence. Oliver Byron has broken me.
“Dammit, Vale. I didn’t want to do this.”
He gets down on his knees beside me and no matter what he does, I can’t unsee the outline of his cock in those black boxer briefs. I can’t unsee his perfectly chiseled body. I can’t unsee the red dragon tattooed on his sculpted chest. I can’t unsee any of it. It’s burned into my memory.
I’m burning, the sight of him has set me ablaze. Will I burn hotter if he touches me? I’ll burn to ash and cease to exist at this rate. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and my brain doesn’t know how to process the knowledge.
Of course he pushes me into the pool like an asshole. As I bob out of the water, he jumps in beside me. The water splashes me in the face, but I wipe it away before he surfaces close to me.
“The way you look at me—” His voice is breathy and hoarse. “The need in those huge, innocent eyes, begging me to dirty you up. You’re killing me,” he growls the last words. His voice travels down my spine, making my thighs clench together.
Oliver closes his eyes for a moment as if he’s trying to find strength.
When his eyes open, it’s all heat, boiling fire.
“I want to drag you in the house and spread your legs.
I want to lick and tongue fuck that tight little pussy of yours till you're screaming and clawing at my back. I want to fill you up and make you come. Then I want to do it all over again. I want to escape Hell just to show you a dark little piece of heaven, beautiful.”
For some reason, my mind sticks on the word “beautiful.” I look up and suck in a deep breath. “You think I’m beautiful?” I ask, and it’s barely a whisper. How could he think that?
“That’s some selective hearing you’ve got. That’s all you got from that?” he asks, brows knotted together. “Come here.”
It’s not so deep now, so I walk over to him in the water. He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s so warm and suddenly I’m shivering. He didn’t answer me. Why didn’t he answer me?
I grab his face in my hands, and I know he can see the awful desperation on my face. He doesn’t understand. “There’s been no one—” I clear my throat, trying to get the words right. “No one has ever thought I was beautiful.”
Oliver clenches his jaw at my words. I want to scream because he isn’t saying anything.
God, I wish he’d say it. I’d give anything for Oliver Byron to think I’m beautiful.
I’m ashamed that I need to hear it, but he doesn’t answer me, and I think my heart cracks a little bit.
Why does that word mean so much? Why do I care what he thinks about me? He’s perfect, and I’m just me.
He tightens his arms around me as he carries me out of the pool and into the pool house.
Like a doll, he sits me down on a bed, then he leaves, shutting the door.
It’s the bedroom I left my dress in, so I stand up and start stripping out of my bathing suit.
I’m stepping out of the bottoms, completely naked, when he returns.
“I didn’t know if I could die until this moment,” he says in a strangled whisper. There’s longing in his eyes, but there’s lust too, and it’s stronger, turning his eyes black like in my dream.
I’m shy by nature, but right now, when I see how otherworldly his eyes have become, it takes away my nerves.
His darkness is like the vacuum of space, it calls to me.
I stand up straight, kicking the bikini bottoms away.
I turn to face him so he can see all of me.
This is my truth. I might not be perfect, but this is me, this is my body.
Look at me, Oliver Byron. See me.
There’s a sudden buzz in the air like electricity sizzling. My skin heats, and that fire that’s been trapped in me my whole life is burning me up, begging to escape, to be free. I want to be free!
He takes one step closer, and so do I. The devastation that’s about to happen is exhilarating. It’s exciting even though my world is about to crash down in front of me. Everything I’ve believed, everything I’ve known is about to be destroyed because of him. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.
It’s at this moment, although I hate to admit it, I know my father is right. I’m bad, ungodly, unholy. I’m a monster and, without a doubt, so is the man in front of me. I want to dance with that beast in my flames.
Oliver takes a deep breath, his body tense, as he starts clenching his fists at his side.
I see the war waging in his eyes and his desire to stop the madness.
I also see the part of him that’s more beast than man.
That part of him needs me; it’s growling from within his chest, trying to claw its way out to get to me.
I can hear its begging inside my mind, Burn with me, it growls. What could he be?
“I’m sorry,” Oliver says, then he rushes me. I feel weightless when we collide. He lifts me into his arms, holding me up by my thighs as our lips crash into each other.
He’s mine. Come hell or high water, I’ll never give him up. He’s my fate. We’re meant to be. But then I feel his body tense up and he jerks his lips away from mine.
“I can’t do this,” he growls, but I don’t believe him because he stares at my mouth before leaning back in. He bites into my lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.
“I need you. Make the pain go away,” I beg him. Why won’t he do this for me?
Oliver is the only person who can help me.
I need him to stop this constant hurt that’s bloomed between my legs.
This new, exquisite torture he brought out in me.
It’s there, humming incessantly. Sleep can’t take the thoughts of him away because he’s there in my dreams. His very existence is an assault on all my senses.
How can he fight the pull when I feel like crashing into him, destroying everything just to feel his lips on mine?
He sets me onto the edge of the bed and quickly backs away, his hands out before him like a shield.
I lean back, my legs spread as I show him all of me.
There’s no modesty, not when my own monster claws to get free.
The need claws at my chest, paining my heart, which beats too fast with the sight of him.
“This is yours,” I remind him, sliding my hand down my body, smoothing my fingers between my slippery slit. “Only yours,” I say and mean every word.
The muscle in his jaw ticks as he tries to gain control. I can hear the grinding of his teeth. “You have to go,” he says, then takes another step back. “You need to run away home, right now. You need to get away from me because I’m not in control right now. I’m not entirely—”
“Not entirely human,” I finish for him. “I’ve always known.
Since the first time I saw you in the shadows.
The way they embrace you. The way your eyes change.
I’ve always seen you, Oliver. Maybe I'm not entirely human either. Did you ever think about that? My father said I was a demon. He might be right.”
He shakes his head, refusing my words. “You don’t feel like a demon, Vale.
Not like me. I’m built this way to attract you, to seduce you.
You see what you ache for, and I can give it to you, but in return I get to feed.
There’s a high price for giving into a monster like me.
I don’t know if what you feel is real.” He looks sad for a moment, shaking his head.
“I want it to be real,” he whispers, his eyes full of anguish. “With you.” He looks like he’s surprised by his own words, as if he hadn’t meant to speak them.
The pain in his eyes hurts my heart, so I go to him.
He thinks he’s only a monster, but he’s so much more than the horror show he thinks he is.
“It’s not all you are, Oliver. You’re not a monster to me.
You’re real to me,” I say and hope he believes me.
Kissing his chest, I lick the salt from his skin.
“Please,” I whisper, desperate. My lips hover over that red dragon, over his heart. I need more. I always need more.
His skin is warm now, as if he has a fever.
He’s burning just like I am. Does he hurt the way I hurt?
I continue to kiss down his stomach and over each toned muscle, sliding my tongue through the deep grooves of muscle until I get to those black boxer briefs.
I fall to my knees in front of him. Looking up at him, I lick my lips. “You taste like sin.”
He inspires such lustful words in me.
I take each side of the elastic band in my fists and pull, over his hips, and down to the floor at his ankles. He doesn’t move, and I’m able to stare at what I’ve uncovered.
“Fuck,” I gasp when I see his cock for the first time.
Now, I’m not a connoisseur of cocks, but what I’m seeing is extraordinary.
It’s long and thick, veins bulging out with a deep ruddy crown that makes my mouth water.
I kiss the slippery tip. He’s sweet and salty as I lick over the head.
“You taste so good.” I open my mouth wide to take him in, suckling the head, then moan around it.
But then he presses the palms of his hands into my shoulders, digging his fingers in. “Don’t,” he says, and it makes tears swim in my vision.
Why doesn’t he want me? Why?
I love him.