Page 85 of Darkest Deception

When I glance over for a quick mere second, I catch Helia’s eyes darken. They look seductive and crazy. He looks like he is ready to snap at any second.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I mutter once more, biting my lip, my eyes shutting when I feel his fingers slide down my jeans, under my underwear, to my soaking pussy.

We are enemies.

On the opposite side of the battlefield.

But I want him.

26

If you’d told me I would be in this position a couple of months ago, I would have laughed in your face. I would have cursed you out for daring to even imagine Helia’s fingers inside of me while I sat in Aurora’s home.

With my bottom lip trapped between my teeth and my breath falling in short pants, I can’t do anything but focus on the pleasurable ride Helia is giving me.

With each ruthless pump, I can feel him branding me. Soft sighs fall on my shoulder from his lips.

Everyone is too engrossed in the movie that is gripping their throats to notice or even look back. Even if one of them knew what was going on, I wouldn’t know, too blinded by pleasure.

My hand grips Helia’s muscled arm. It’s probably going to leave nail marks.

“Fuck. Seeing this look on your face makes me weak in my knees, Ambrose,” Helia grumbles.

He’s fucking me so hard and fast that I am breathless, unable to intake even a simple breath.

“Give it to me, Ambrose.”

I break apart, shutting my eyes tightly, and pressing my lips together. I collapse, heaving. His fingers slip from my body, leaving me feeling cold and empty. My whole being gravitates towards him.

“Helia.” My head falls back against the sofa, my eyes shut.

I lost my battle.

I lost my control, my composure, and my hold on my tightly caged heart.

A finger softly traces my cheek, but I don’t want to open my eyes and face reality. Of what I have done and exactly what this means.

I can’t do this.

Getting up from the sofa, I walk out of the living room and into the bathroom next to the kitchen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I stare at myself in the mirror. My dirty brown eyes are wide in horror as my chest recovers from being deprived of oxygen.

“What have I done? What have I fucking done?” I shake my head, walking back and forth in the massive bathroom.

How will I walk out?

What will I do? How will I face him after this?

Punching the marble counter, I try to focus on the pain, on the searing prickles up my arm.

Shutting my eyes, I take a deep breath, shaking my arms and my head, erasing all thoughts.

I agreed to this. I accepted it. I wanted it.

I shouldn’t be ashamed. I shouldn’t be insecure about wanting something natural.

I am who I am.

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