Page 57 of One Rule

Liliana’s languid in my hold now. I release her throat and stop petting her, helping her stand and move back underneath the warm water. She lets me wash her and help rinse, only lifting her arms long enough to wipe something off my chin.

And when she moves her fingers just far enough that I’m able to see, I wait.

Yet she doesn’t react to the blood. Not how I expected at least after she watched me kill a man.

Instead, she crooks those same fingers and I lower my face down to her level. For a minute or two, we don’t talk—so much as blink—but I’m made to feel a hundred feet tall when she whispers two words.

“Thank you.”

There’s a serious conversation pending between her and I, but for now, I’m happy to enjoy this moment. To burn into my memory every sinful bloodlust induced moment like what we just experienced. Led by desire and the pride in taking out her enemy—she felt it too—and we gave in to every restrained desire we’ve held back for so long.

I didn’t claim her innocence yet or gave her my first time, but I showed her who she belongs to.

It’s not a streak of blood on my cock that will prove it, but how deeply I worship her. Sweet. Filthy. It doesn’t matter when both sides of me are hers.

We’re real. Perfect for the other, and it showed at how easily we move together and take pleasure from a simple kiss.

But that can wait until tomorrow, for now now I’ll be tucking her into my bed where she’s always belonged.

“It’s time to go home, baby.”

Chapter22

Liliana

He’s the one constant in my life.

My love for him has never waned and I’ve never been more at ease than I am laying naked in his arm, wrapped tightly in an embrace that’s started to mend my broken heart.

Everything’s not perfect. Moving on from grief takes time, but I won’t deny that for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m where I truly belong.

This is a man who’s never left my side, nor does he hinder my need to grow. Who will understand this insatiable need to pay tenfold what’s been taken from our family?

Everything will be okay?

Is this what they meant? That he does love me?

“Have I been blind this entire time?” His arm tightens around my midsection and his cock gives a jerk from between my thighs. We’re pressed chest to back without an inch of space between us and each time I shift, Micah follows, keeping himself semi-hard against my pussy lips.

My labia is slick with my arousal and dripping down his length as he flexes in his sleep. He doesn’t do it constantly, but just enough I’m kept horny, and the flesh there has become sensitive.

My clit throbs against him.

My mound feels swollen.

And I know that if I were to move, grind against his girth, I’d come. It would take so little. Just one small swivel of my hips and…

“You need to wake up, Micah,” I coo, but he continues to ignore me, and the little snore that follows is adorable. Endears him to me a little more even if this predicament is all his fault.

Yet that doesn’t negate the fact he’s been using my pussy to keep warm.

“Okay. Two can play this game.” A smile tugs at my lips when I shift and hear his grunt of annoyance. Those strong corded arms tighten, one around my hips, and the other grips my neck. It’s a reflex, I have no idea how he’s comfortable nearly cocooning me—wrapped around my much smaller frame like a blanket—but at the tap of my fingers on his hand he lets go.

He’s asleep but attuned to me, and I won’t deny it’s a heady feeling. Being the center of his attention always has been.

In the past, he never allowed anyone to get close enough to flirt, much less ask me out. No buying me coffee while in line at Starbucks. No making small talk at a bookstore where I waited for the store employee to come back with my pick-up order.

He’s pussy-blocked me for years, and I’d been oblivious this entire time.

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