Page 50 of Bloody Tainted Lies

Nikolai’s arms come around my waist, squeezing slightly. “Oh.” is all I say.

“Have you ever thought that maybe we have some things in common?” No. No, I haven’t. Not anymore. I’ve been so focused on hating him, or trying to, that I never stopped thinking of that. Mostly because I don’t want to play him anymore. I’m feeling too much, and clearly, so is he. “Why don’t you want to give me a chance, Milla? Why do you keep pushing me away? You don’t exactly say it, but you also don’t have to. I feel it, the way you’re not giving me everything. And I want it all.”

My eyes fill with tears, and I lean my head back on his chest. “I can’t give it to you, Nik. I can’t give you everything.” I sniffle, “Not anymore. We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Weareeverything, though, remember?”

“Can we just…” I try to think of a way to say it, school the tone of my voice in a way that sounds innocent. So he doesn’t get offended. Oh, God. Now I care about his feelings, too. “Watch the movie? Please?”

“Sure,” he replies with a sigh, evidently exasperated.

After one hour of watching the movie, it’s as if he can’t contain himself. He begins to rub his fingers down my arms, summoning goosebumps and a shiver from deep within me. I close my eyes and forget about the movie, about anything except the feeling of him touching me. Suddenly, he flips me over onto my back, effectively removing me from his lap, and nudges my legs apart with his knee.

I gasp, my mouth wide open, and he gives me a crooked grin. The way he stares at me speaks volumes. With want,need. His eyes lock on mine, and my chest tightens with a feeling I can’t describe. Regret, perhaps? Regret that I’m so stupid. That I always want what I can’t have, and I want it more than anything.

“I can’t take it anymore.” He groans, rubbing his erection against my center. “I want to keep you, all of you. I want you, Camilla. Say you’re mine and put me out of my misery.Please.”

“Don’t beg, baby,” I whisper, and he tenses against me. I feel it in the way his corded arms contract, the way his body goes rigid over me. “I can’t give you what you want. Just enjoy this time with me.”

If I were smarter, I would’ve played a while longer, but as it stands, I can’t deceive him anymore. I won’t. So no, I won’t give him what he wants because that would mean I’m doing what Leo wants. Except it’s not for the same reasons anymore. I love this guy,reallylove him. So why do I give a shit that I was deceiving him if I’m not anymore?

Sighing, I look into his eyes. They’re so gray that it’s like looking into a thunderstorm. With each blink, I swear there’s a lightning strike, and they flash silver at me. It confuses me, the way he stares at me. Like he wants me more than anything, yet hates me all at the same time.

The feeling is mutual.

He’s still holding a grudge, I bet.

“I’m trying to enjoy it, Camilla. But all I can think of is how much I want to keep you to myself. How I can’t bear to see you with Leonardo, much less think of you marrying him. What’s wrong with me? What have you done to me?”

I open my mouth to tell him I’ve done nothing, that it’s all in his head, but he interrupts.

“Do you have me under some sort of spell, princess?”

Shaking my head, I grimace. He’s the one that’s bewitched me, and now I can’t snap out of it. “You do.” I shake my head, “Always have.”

I peer back and his eyes search mine frantically, reading me, studying me. I look between his lips and his eyes over and over again, willing him to lower himself to me and make me his again. But I can’t, I shouldn’t.

It apparently doesn’t matter what I want. Clearly, I have no say when it comes to Nikolai Pavlov. His lips crash against mine like waves against rocks, and he devours my mouth. He sucks, licks, nibbles, bites. And I cannot get enough.

And I don’t think I want to stop wanting him this way.

Even if it’s wrong.

I pull away, trying to catch my breath.

“Tell me a secret,” I whisper against his lips, my chest heaving as if I just ran. “One.”

“I shouldn’t.” He shakes his head, his lips brushing mine. “I should keep it to myself.”

“Question five hundred.” I bring our game back. “What’s one of your secrets?”

Nikolai seems to ponder what he’s going to say, seemingly changing his mind about the first secret. “I hate my father,” he begins. “He ruined my life.”

“Why? What did he do?”

He pulls away and smiles, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “That would betwosecrets.”

I chuckle, “Sorry. You’re right.”

---