Page 42 of Shattered Love

“And how long has that been?” I asked, wanting him to quench my thirst for knowing more now that he had turned on the faucet of information.

“Are you trying to figure out my age?” He smirked, his hand traveling further up my leg, settling on my calf.

I rolled my eyes at his question. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out.”

His smile was bright in the darkness. “I’m thirty-one, so I’ve been here for about thirteen years.”

Another question niggled at the back of my brain. “You were never adopted?”

“No. I watched plenty of kids come in and out, but I never left.”

The image of him became clearer in my head. I could imagine a young Warner watching new people enter his life every few months. His calculating stare had been formed at a young age, creating the man today that always seemed to keep to the shadows, paying attention to those around him.

Bringing us back to my original question, I asked, “So you have a death sentence? If you have no one out there, that’s the only logical answer I can come up with.”

This time, he chuckled, his hand reaching my thigh and squeezing. “I can assure you that I have no desire to die anytime soon.”

Still, he wasn’t giving me the answers I wanted. “Then why?” I pressed, leaning into his space.

His hand crawled up my thigh, his other hand reaching out to grab tendrils of my hair, tangling them in his fingers.

“I’m not sure I can explain it. I spent my childhood alone, most of adulthood too.” He pulled the strands of my hair, tilting my head until my neck was exposed. “But then there was you.”

His head leaned forward, his nose skating up the column of my neck, sending a shiver down my body. Reaching my ear, his hot breath warmed the sensitive skin.

“Hair dark as night. One of hundreds of faces in a crowded camp. You should have been able to blend in the way I had done my entire life.”

He took the shell of my ear into his mouth, nibbling gently on the flesh, a soft moan escaping me. He chuckled, continuing, “But instead you begged to stand out. Do the one thing in that camp that no one else dared to do.”

Warner backed away, his dark gaze meeting mine. “The second you dared to ask me about an escape plan, a complete stranger, I knew you weren’t meant for the darkness like me. But I realized I’d be your shadow, following you wherever you led.”

My heart beat a wild rhythm in my chest. I didn’t recognize the woman he described. I wasn’t a leader. Bravery didn’t guide me, it was fear that led to my recklessness. But I wanted to be who he pictured me as.

And under his heated stare, I knew I could be. I didn’t wait for him to invade my space as he enjoyed; I pressed forward, my hands landing on his chest and my lips finding his.

He met me immediately, pulling tighter against the hold on my hair, his tongue spearing past my lips and tangling with mine.

With his empty hand, he gripped my hip, guiding me onto his lap until I was straddling him. His need pressed against my core, my hips rolling involuntarily.

Our mouths fought for dominance, his large hand sliding up my side and cupping my breast. He kneaded the sensitive flesh, his fingers brushing over my taut nipples through my shirt.

I continued to undulate my hips, unable to hold myself back. I wanted him. I wanted to be the daring woman he promised me I was.

Sliding my hands down his chest, I slipped them under his shirt, the ridges and valleys of his muscled chest firm beneath my touch. He followed suit, his hand slipping beneath my shirt and finding bare flesh.

Pulling my hair, he broke the kiss, his mouth finding my neck. Sucking and licking down the column, he released my hair, gripping my hip once again while he continued to play with my nipples.

Moving my hips in a rhythm that had him groaning against my skin, I sank further into his touch. I was on fire, aflame with a hungry desire I couldn’t contain.

Our movements were frantic and hurried, need building between us. A loud moan escaped my lips as he pinched my nipple between two fingers, his hips thrusting his cock against my core.

His hand left my skin, his mouth leaving my neck, and emptiness rushed through me at the lack of contact.

I wanted to ask why he stopped. Why he didn’t continue to play my body like an instrument when all I wanted was to feel his entire body on top of mine.

But I never got the chance as he shifted my body, planting me on my feet while he stayed on the couch.

“You should get some sleep,” he told me, and I raised my brows in question.

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