Page 86 of Hide Me Darling

Tears stream down my face as his words sink in. “I didn’t need you to protect me, I needed you with me,” I whisper as I imagine him all alone again.

He tucks me against his chest, strong arms wrapping around me tightly. “I know, Dessa, and I’m sorry. I wish I could make you see that it was the right thing for us. I never stopped thinking about you, not for one moment.”

I frown, frustration taking place in the front of my mind. I shove him backward again and this time he does move. “Really? Then why the fucking games, why the masks, why not tell me exactly who you were from the start, Telvin?”

He grimaces, at least having the sense to look apologetic as he shoves his hands into his pockets and he looks upward at the canopy above us.

“You don’t even act the same,” I whisper, my heart aching a little less as I look at him alive and safe in front of me.

He chuckles as he seems to take me in. I’m so focused on how nice it is to see his eyes that I don’t even realize when his hand snaps out. He grabs a fist full of my hair, dragging me against the front of him again. “You know I hated my name. And would you have suspected sweet, quiet Telvin of fucking that pretty pussy raw?” he asks, his voice going husky.

Well fuck, now that’s a reminder of the change between boy and man if I’ve ever seen one.

He starts to walk me backward, his body completely controlling mine until my back is pressed against a tree and it turns my insides to liquid. “We had our reasons for doing what we did, the way we did it, we won’t apologize. There are still things at play here that you don’t know about.”

“Link, you can’t just come back into my life and expect me to accept everything without question. I need to understand. I’m not that child anymore either. I changed too,” I breathe out.

His lips twitch and there is definitely nothing boy-like in the look he gives me, his grip remains unyielding, tugging harder on my hair. “No, you’re not. We’ll tell you everything, Dessa. But first, you have to trust us. Trust me.”

I open my mouth to ask, but he must see the question on my face before I voice it. "Don’t ask me who he is," he says, his voice low. "He has his own story to tell."

I huff, frustrated by his evasiveness. He grins at me, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Come on, little shadow,” he says, his tone teasing. “Let me walk you home like a gentleman.”

I laugh, giving him a disbelieving look. “You are not a gentleman.”

His eyes grow hooded, like a predator looking at his next meal. “So nice of you to notice,” he murmurs, and then his lips are on mine, stealing my breath. He continues to speak between each brush of his lips, his words igniting a fire inside me. “I’ve spent 17 years… obsessed with everything about you… every part of you… your body and mind… I want to devour you… possess you… I’ll never be a gentleman… I’m the needy orphan who begs for more…”

His words send shivers down my spine, and I cling to him as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as my fingers grip his hair. The intensity of my need for him is overwhelming. I feel myself melting against him, so ready and willing to surrender to the passion that simmers between us.

But then he abruptly steps back and away, leaving me weak in the knees, trying to hold myself up as I catch my breath. Maybe I underestimated the whole mask thing. I should be glad he hasn’t kissed me before, his mouth is just as dangerous as his cock.

Tangling our fingers together, he starts leading me through the forest toward the house. His grip is firm, reassuring, and I find myself squeezing his hand in response. Despite everything, a part of me wants to trust him, to believe that there’s a reason behind all the secrecy.

When we finally reach the back of the house, he barely stops, somehow producing a key and unlocking the door.

"You have a key to my house?" I ask incredulously, and he shushes me. I almost stumble as he continues to pull me along behind him, my mind struggling to focus on anything but the fact that he has a goddamn key. I knew they were able to get in easily, but I didn’t realize they didn’t have to work for it.

"Don't you dare shush me right now," I snap, but he simply turns back towards me, his shoulder digging into my stomach as he throws me over it and continues through the house. He carries me up the stairs, and when I start protesting, one of his hands lands heavily on my ass making me yelp.

Link kicks open my bedroom door and throws me onto my bed, my body bouncing slightly. My skirt rides up my legs, revealing more skin and the knife that’s strapped to my thigh. Both of them have a seriously annoying habit of manhandling me, but at least Cain placed me down gently last time.

I open my mouth to protest again, but he starts talking at the same moment he begins pulling off his gloves, followed by his jacket. It's far easier to see all of his tattooed and tanned skin now that we're out of the forest. The heart that was etched into his skin is now framed by one of ink. If he had been shirtless at kickboxing I would have seen it instantly.

"You want to know the only difference between now and when I had that mask on and you didn't know who I was?" Before I can answer, he wraps his hands around the back of my knees and jerks me toward the edge of the bed. "This," he says, ripping my underwear from my body with one swift motion.

And then he kneels, his head presses forward while holding my eye contact, and then his mouth is on me. Oh holy mother of God… His tongue needs to be considered a lethal weapon.

I moan, my breath stuttering as his tongue moves and flicks over my clit before sliding down to my entrance. I can barely breathe, the sensation of his hot mouth on me making my entire body tremble. He is relentless, teasing and exploring, driving me to the edge of sanity before pulling back and teasing again. I grip the sheets, my knuckles turning white as I try to ground myself, but it's impossible. My body is reacting to him in ways I never imagined.

The knife in its sheath inches from his head doesn’t even concern him, he simply digs his fingers into the skin of my thigh next to it, holding me open for the war he’s waging on my pussy.

"Link," I gasp, trying to form coherent words. "Stop... I need... we need to talk."

He doesn't stop, though. Instead, he glances up at me, his green eyes dark with desire. "Talking can wait, Dessa, I’ve waited far too long to taste you," he murmurs against my skin, the vibration of his voice sending another wave of pleasure through me.

My protests die in my throat as he continues his assault, his hands gripping my thighs firmly, holding me in place. Every touch, every lick, every bite is pushing me closer to the edge, and I know I won't last much longer. The heat building inside me is too intense, too overwhelming.

"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for anymore. Release, maybe. Or perhaps for him to stop before I completely lose myself.

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