Page 19 of Borden 3

He strode to me and picked me up in his strong arms. His mouth nipped at mine, little kisses that he rained down on me as he watched me through half-opened eyes.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he whispered.

He didn’t fuck me without restraint. Quite the opposite. He laid me down on the mattress instead and worshipped me. He peppered my body with his kisses, tasting every inch of me. His mouth stroked at my core, expertly knowing how to turn me boneless.

“You and that cursed tongue,” I panted as he drew out my pleasure and had me digging my fingers into his scalp like a needy little kitten.

He smirked up at me, and I lost my breath in an instant, swept up by those wicked blue eyes. Sometimes his eyes—his heavy gaze—was like staring into an opal. The same heady feeling I got at the iridescent moving colours was comparable to Borden’s eyes. I saw the mood change in and out of them. The hunger, the roughness, the gentleness and the dizzying look of warmth when he wanted to tell me with just one look that I was his.

I fucking loved being his.

I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything more in my life than belonging to him.

“Are you mine?” I whispered, blinking back tears as he brought me near the edge of that explosion.

His smirk faded. He pulled back and climbed over me. His hand gripped my leg and he swung it around him. Then without warning, he thrust into me, and it was that thrust alone that sent me spiralling. My fingers dug into his back and he groaned at the marks I left behind. I lost myself in that moment, forgetting that Borden originally needed me and not the other way around.

He swallowed my cries in a punishing kiss, and then he moved, gritting out, “I belong to no other, Emma. Only you.”

He finished inside me on a long groan and a slow, tortured thrust.

???

He came back from the bathroom with a hot towel. Languid, I watched as he placed it between my legs and cleaned up the mess. As he slowly wiped me, his gaze was focused on my face, tracing along my features, but at the same time, avoiding my eyes.

“Can’t get you out of my fucking head,” he murmured, quietly. “Tired of that sometimes, Doll.”

“Wish you could stop thinking about me altogether?” I teased.

His hand fell to his side, his hold on the towel limp. “I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t survive.”

My heart dipped. He was thinking about the earlier conversation. “I was emotional today, after the funeral. I…I probably shouldn’t have made such a demand of you—”

“It’s not that—”

“I just thought of Lincoln—”

“I thought I saw Kate today.”

I froze, and the room went quiet.

Borden shook his head shortly, a haunted look in him. “I know it wasn’t her, but just the same…for a split second, I thought it was her.”

I didn’t know what to say. The room spun and then settled. I blinked and settled with a weak, “How did that make you feel?”

“Terrified,” he said, his gaze lingering along my mouth. Then he stood up. I watched his giant form disappear into the bathroom. I heard the thump of the laundry hamper as he chucked the towel in there. Then he emerged, stopping in the middle of the room to finally look at me.

I couldn’t really speak. My mind was racing. I felt…a strange hurt in my chest. It didn’t seem appropriate to feel that way, so I was confused by that.

“Did you…” I paused, clearing my throat. “Did you want it to be her?”

Borden stiffened a nod. “I did.”

“Oh.”

“If only to tell her I was sorry.” He moved to the window, and quickly peered out through the crack in the curtains. Then he paused and turned his head to look at me. “A sick part of me imagines that if she were here, she’d loathe me. I sort of want that, too. For her to hate me.” He looked down at my body, his stare clinging to every curve of me. “I suppose I keep waiting for you to.”

My warring emotions wore off by the pain in his eyes as he exhaled and slowly moved back to the bed. I sat up, my back resting on the headboard as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.

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