Page 18 of King of Guilt

When my mouth reached her eyelid, I felt her prickly little lashes against my sensitive lips, and my heart raced faster.

I wished kisses could reach a person’s soul, sucking out all the remorse and agony inside. I wished I could free this gentle being from the demons Kyle had recklessly left inside of her. The seed of his thoughtlessness and self-indulgence had had all the time in the world to grow, sprouting their haunted branches around the essence of Emma’s womanhood.

And here I was, helpless and engrossed in an uncharted territory that drew me deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.

No words were exchanged in this frozen moment, hanging alone in a dark vacuum of space and time.

And when I opened my eyes, I knew that the words to describe this moment hadn’t yet been invented.

nine

To His Beauty

Emma

When I tried to pull away and Dean pulled me in, the shred of fear inside me threatened to expand, swallowing me whole. But something in the way he whispered sweet reassurances in my ear matched no other man. It wasn’t the words, as much as the way he’d said them. His tone, ethereal, as if his soul were communicating with mine away from our mortal ears.

And when his fingertips touched my chin, the electricity that coursed through my body was welcomed. Sweet. Cathartic.

But all my logic crumbled when his lips touched my jaw in the manner that they did. And when his mouth moved upward, I caught myself feeling disappointed that it didn’t make a stop on mine. Soon, however, all those feelings were replaced with something more profound.

On paper and as far as everyone was concerned, Dean was my husband. But in reality, and until this moment, I had never experienced this side of him, not even remotely. To think that the man who had been my serious, professional, and closed-off boss for nearly three years had the ability to behave this way. It blew my mind.

And the fact that it was me right here in his arms, receiving this unearthly brand of affection, completely destroyed my mind.

Yes, I felt insane.

Insane enough to throw all my dreads and terrors against the wall and watch them shatter to pieces at this beautiful man’s feet. Insane, as I followed my heart’s commands, running my fingers through his thick, soft hair as he kissed my eyelids.

Of course, I was insane to think that this could have led to anything. But none the wiser, I threw myself in the arms of the first man to have made me feel this… this… what was I feeling? Was it only desire? It couldn’t have been.

“Emma.” His hoarse whisper threw me back into the moment, only to realize that he was now propping himself up on his knees over the sofa, cradling my face with both hands. “Say the word, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No.” I shook my head, my hands grabbing his shirt at the sides just under his arms, pulling him closer. Sitting up on my knees to face him, I brought my face another inch nearer to his, my eyes drinking in his beautiful features. His deep brown eyes, troubled yet slowly gleaming with a glimmer of comfort. His smooth black hair with my fingers running through it lost all purpose but to feel it. An intrusive thought told me that I wanted to wash it again, with both of us in that tub one day. His lush, reddened lips, slightly parted as he visibly worked to slow down his breathing. His round chin and with that dimple in the middle, a divine gift from Pearl’s features. And his nose; without thinking, I saw my index finger trace a line down its straight form, reaching his Cupid’s bow.

And at the very same fraction of a second, we kissed. The breath caught inside my chest while every cell of my being marveled in the feeling of his lips against mine. The most loving kiss, I thought, if only we could have been in love.

But none of that mattered now. Who cared about reality when the momentary delusion was far more beautiful than my entire life wrapped up?

When Dean put his hand behind my head, dipping his fingers in my hair and pulling me in, our kiss deepened, gaining a more heated air. But before I could get lost in it, he pulled away, asking against my mouth, “Are you sure?”

Gazing into his eyes, I nodded. “If we’re pretending I’m your wife,” I whispered, “how about we believe it for one night? Show me how that would be.”

I thought I saw the shadow of a smile appear at the corners of his lips before he pulled me back again, kissing me harder than before. His lips were so plump that I felt like I was kissing a cloud, but how could a cloud be so warm and passionate?

Was that what clouds felt like if we touched them right before the storm?

With my mind lost in the midst of the tempest, my hand drew my attention to the fact that Dean now had it in his, interlinking our fingers and pressing them against his chest. His other hand was still in my hair, soon to slide down my nape, along my spine, reaching the small of my back. I pushed myself up a little in response, only to have him extend his head to keep up with me, refusing to break our kiss. Instead, his hand at my back pulled me closer, so close that my breasts were pressed up against our intertwined hands over his heart.

And then slowly, he leaned forward, returning his hand to the back of my head as I leaned backward, until I was lying flat on the sofa underneath him. When his hand let go of mine, I felt it caress my lower belly, sneaking softly upward over the smooth silk. His fingers glided between the flaps, sliding the robe down my shoulders. With my breasts halfway exposed, I expected them to be his next stop. However, as he lowered his head onto me, his lips found the spot where my heart should be and started kissing it there.

One kiss…

And a second…

And a third…

And any shred of reservation I had left immediately left my body.

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