Chapter 151 151
She stood close enough for him to hear the soft rhythm of her breathing, her dark brown hair spilling down her back like a silken curtain.
The temptation to bury his hands in it to feel whether it was as soft as it looked was almost laughable in its intensity.
She faced the window, her back to him, unaware of the storm raging in his chest. From where he stood, she looked impossibly small. Fragile. As though one wrong touch could shatter her.
He moved toward her slowly, like a predator closing in on prey except there was no malice in him. Only hunger. A need to taste her again. To relive the kiss he hadn’t been able to erase from his mind.
Her floral scent wrapped around him as he stopped just an inch behind her. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body.
His hands twitched.
Before he could stop himself, his palms settled against her slim waist.
She instinctively leaned back, her spine pressing against his chest. A soft, breathy sigh slipped from her lips as she relaxed into him, as if she had been waiting for this.
His hand slid forward, spreading over her belly, and he guided her hips back.
She gasped her entire body jolting when she felt the unmistakable hardness pressed against her.
“Damien…” she breathed, his name leaving her lips like a prayer.
A low growl rumbled from him as he turned her around to face him. Her palms landed against his chest. She tilted her head up, those wide brown eyes meeting his.
Those eyes.
Innocent and heated all at once.
Every drop of blood in his body rushed south, tightening him further.
“Kiss me,” she whispered softly.
That was it.
The last shred of control snapped.
With a growl, he captured her mouth in a fierce, scorching kiss. A jolt of electricity shot through him the instant their lips met. His hand slid up to cradle the nape of her neck as he deepened the kiss.
Her lips were full and impossibly soft. He could feel the curves of her body against his, the heat of her skin seeping into him.
She pouted slightly beneath his assault, but it wasn’t enough.
He needed more.
Craved more.
His tongue slipped past her parted lips, claiming her fully. He kissed her thoroughly, their tongues tangling in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that left him dizzy. The sensations were overwhelming intense, almost euphoric.
He pulled back just enough for air.
She was panting, her eyes glazed and unfocused. His thumb brushed over her swollen lips while his hand cupped her jaw.
Their gazes locked.
Something hummed between them raw, unfiltered.
He felt like he could see straight into her soul. Beneath her quiet strength, beneath the brave smiles, there was pain. And in this moment, he felt like he was the only thing soothing it.
Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hands to the back of her thighs and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist naturally, her arms circling his neck.
She was looking at him really looking at him.
She rarely held his gaze for long. But now she did, her sad, beautiful eyes mirroring the darkness in his own.
He carried her to the bed and stopped at its edge before lowering her down. Her body bounced slightly against the mattress, and she let out a soft, airy giggle that hit him like music.
He tore his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His gaze dragged over her clothed form hungrily.
He wanted her skin beneath his hands.
He climbed over her, gripping the hem of her sundress.
The fabric tore with a sharp rip that echoed in the room.
She gasped as he discarded the ruined cloth. A deep, satisfied sound vibrated in his chest as he looked down at her bare, exposed beneath him.
At his mercy.
His eyes traveled slowly down her body. She instinctively tried to cover herself, but he caught her knees, guiding them apart with a possessive growl.
His heart thundered wildly as he lowered his gaze
—
Damien jerked awake.
His eyes flew open, breath harsh in his lungs.
He swallowed against his dry throat and dragged a hand down his face, feeling the sweat clinging to his skin.
What the hell was that?
Had he really just fantasized about her like that?
He shifted to sit up and froze.
He was hard.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
What was wrong with him?
He threw the sheets aside and strode into the bathroom. Stripping off his boxers, he stepped under the freezing spray of the shower, letting the icy water shock his system.
“Fuck!” he roared, slamming his fist into the tiled wall.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
Tiles cracked under the force, and his knuckles split open, blood mixing with the water as it streamed down.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Dreaming about her like that?
This should be the last thing on his mind.
Ever since that kiss in the rain, she had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to bury the memory, it resurfaced her lips, her warmth, the way she had responded.
She haunted him.
Tested him.
And it pissed him off beyond reason.
He had been careful painstakingly careful to avoid her. He’d appointed a pack doctor for Mathieu. When she thanked him, soft and sincere, it only irritated him further.
He didn’t want to feel anything when she looked at him like that.
Staying away from her had become the hardest test of restraint he’d ever faced. At least she wasn’t seeking him out. If anything, she seemed to be avoiding him too.
Good.
It needed to stay that way.
Distance was safer for both of them.
She wasn’t his. She never could be.
He could never move past his mate. Never move past Gabrielle.
He was damaged beyond repair a jagged shard that could only wound anyone who came too close. The only thing he could ever give Jacqueline was pain.
She deserved someone whole. Someone capable of loving her the way she deserved.
Not a broken man like him.
And he would never stop loving Gabrielle.
That was the truth.
And it always would be.