Page 56 of Veiled Yearning

This swell of all-encompassing need.

It’s beyond desire or affection.

It’s everything.

He’s falling in love with me.

I feel like a lily blossoming in the spring.

First, poking through the newly-thawed ground, finally exposed to the light again. Growing taller and stronger, absorbing the warmth of the sun. And then, in a glorious explosion of color, petals unfurling, a flower at last in full bloom.

I was that dormant bulb, and Gavril is the one who brought me back to life again.

What I feel for Gavril is so intense, so big…

I’ve never wanted a man like this before.

But it’s not just for the physical part of it, although I’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks. It’s for the connection; to give a part of myself to him. To be as close as a man and woman can be, and have it truly mean something.

In the past, I’d leave each rare interlude feeling emptier than when I started. But now I know why. All along, it was Gavril, only I hadn’t figured it out yet.

I had no idea of the kind of man he really is.

A man who holds me like the most fragile piece of crystal, tenderly kissing away my dried tears. A man who thinks himself rough and insensitive, but has the softest heart of anyone I know.

And he’s a man I’m incredibly attracted to; more than I ever thought possible.

I love Gavril’s ruggedly handsome face, and his stormy gray eyes that turn a liquid silver whenever he looks at me.

I love how big he is, and how his muscular arms feel when he gently wraps them around me.

And when I’m on his lap, his arousal hard and prodding at the apex of my thighs, all I can think about is feeling him inside me. Filling me.

“Chiara. Are you okay?” Gavril gazes down at me, his brows pulled down in concern. He’s still holding me, one hand at my nape, the other stroking my back—a tender embrace instead of passionate. “It seemed like you went somewhere else for a minute.”

“I’m okay.” My cheeks go hot. Do I tell him what I was really thinking about?

Gavril gives me a skeptical look, but his voice is tinged with an undercurrent of fear. “Did something I said bother you? Maybe I should have waited—”

I’m quick to stop him. “No, it’s not that. I was… well…”

How can I be so bad at this?

“Gorgeous, if something’s wrong, just tell me. I won’t be upset.”

“It’s not that. Nothing’s wrong.” Aside from making a total mess of this, that is. In a rush, I blurt out, “I was thinking about how much I want you.”

His eyebrows jump up to his hairline. “Oh?” A pause, and then in a much lower tone. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” And before my nerves can talk me out of it, I swing my legs around to straddle him. “I’m not very good at this, as you can tell. But I was thinking… just… how handsome you are and how attracted I am to you… and…” The rest of my words all blend together. “HowmuchIwanttofeelyouinsideme.”

I could smack myself. More than a hundred years old and I’m acting like a blushing virgin. Which I’m not.

Although it’s been a long time, to be fair.

Gavril stares at me with an inscrutable expression, a tiny muscle in his jaw twitching.

Silence drags, and my stomach starts lurching. Did I read this all wrong? Did I just make a giant fool of myself?

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