Hundreds (Dollar 3) - Page 50

Her eyes met mine, a shy smile creeping over her face. Her cheeks glowed as she looked me up and down. She’d used the hotel supplied makeup to darken her lashes and stain her perfect lips. Her hair hung like heavy silk over her shoulders.

I didn’t stand a fucking chance.

We stood with the room between us, neither ready to break the erotic studying of each other. I hadn’t been a saint in my past but staring at Pim…no other woman existed.

She was the only woman. She was the only creature with that title. It felt as if I’d never seen a female before. That she was everything sex and connection spoke about with her strength and hope and fledgling trust.

She was girl and witch and wife—

Fuck.

I shook my head, dispelling such delusional thoughts. I hadn’t played my cello. I wasn’t thinking straight.

I take no responsibility for my thoughts. None.

Pim was just a slave I’d stolen.

That was it.

But as her grass-coloured eyes teased down my black suit and lingered on the black tie around my neck, I grew hot. As she licked her lips at the grey shirt I’d chosen rather than white—blotting up the light rather than granting it—I grew hard.

She confused me by making me want to protect her all while the growing urgency to molest her made me go to war with myself.

The fact she’d worn the black lingerie beneath her dress made me crazy. Black was my colour of choice. She’d just made this night ten times fucking harder.

“You’re beautiful.” I cleared my throat from the heavy, needy rasp.

“You’re handsome.” She ducked her gaze, linking her fingers together as if afraid I’d reprimand her for the compliment.

I couldn’t let her be afraid.

I never wanted her to be afraid again.

Stalking forward, I hesitated as my hand shot out, aiming for her cheek.

Don’t do it.

Don’t let yourself feel.

My arm hovered.

I ordered myself to back away, but her face tilted up, her eyes widening in question when I didn’t touch her. The guileless way she stared—her gaze flitting from my mouth to my eyes and back again unravelled the rest of my self-control.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I closed the distance between us and softly cupped her face. My fingers shook from being tender when I wanted to be cruel. Wanted to growl at her to leave me alone. Tell her to run.

Words tumbled from heart to mouth rather than being analysed by my brain. I had no way to stop it. No censor to prevent the deep, dark truth. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Pim sucked in a breath. The tops of her breasts visible thanks to the lingerie.

The sentence could’ve been superficial. Wanting someone hinted at suffering from lust and nothing else. Wanting meant physical and selfish release.

But she already knew I wanted more from her than that. I wanted her mind, her history. I wanted to study her past under a microscope and pass exams on all things Pim.

And now, thanks to my failing willpower and her growing courage, I needed to rip apart every inch of her and pry apart every personality. I needed to understand her power over me.

But most of all, I wanted her.

Christ, I wanted her.

Goosebumps darted over her arms as I brushed my thumb over her lips. My hand continued to shake, and the slickness of her pale pink lipstick stained my fingerprint.

The feather of her breath on my hand clenched my gut.

She swayed into me. Her eyes clouding with the exact thing that infected me.

Desire.

Deep, true, unforgiving, burdensome desire.

Dropping my hand, I stepped backward, cursing the rigidity of my muscles and ache in my back. Wanting her had spread from my cock to my heart to my bones. She gave me lust rheumatism, and I hated that I was so far fucking gone, I came up with such ridiculous analogies.

I cleared my throat from the growl-gravel ready to order her onto the bed.

We needed to leave. I needed some distance.

I need to get myself under control.

Smoothing my jacket, pretending it was the fabric I stroked and not my heated skin and aching bones, I snapped, “We need to go.”

She blinked away the compress of desire, coming awake once again. “Are…are we late?”

“Late?”

She bit her lip, worry shimmering around her. “For a reservation?”

Of course, she would think that. Anyone would if told we had to go in the same snapped urgency.

I had no booking, no agenda. Tonight was open to any and all experiences. That was why I had to get out of this room. Immediately.

I half-smiled, already regretting every event leading up till now and every event here after. “No, we’re not late.”

“Then why?”

I turned to face the door, bowing a little with my arm spread for her to join me. “Because if we don’t go this instant, then we’ll never leave.”

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