Page 50 of Broken Bonds

His eyes fill with humor and he smiles a little. “Of course, I want you to stay. I would never say something so important just because I have to.”

We aren’t touching. We aren’t as close as I would like us to be, yet his presence fills everything.

I’m drowning in it.

“Why do you want to stay, Stella?” Now it’s he who is asking the questions.

My heart is pounding, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. I can barely hear my voice when I say, “To be your wife.”

“Thank fuck,” he says before his lips rest on mine and I forget even my name.

The lion and the lamb are becoming friends—more than that. They are planning a life together.

But some things have changed, the lion knows that it can lose its crown and the lamb has gained ammunition to defend itself.

Putting my hands on his strong chest I move away from him a little to look at those dark and warm eyes, lifting my chin up a little. The bruise on his face has faded, it’s now a yellow stain, but it’s still a reminder that life passes quickly and that tomorrow is not promised.

And yet the same questions keep popping in my head, am I ready for this?

Am I ready to trust he won’t break my heart again?

The heart says one thing, but my mind reminds me that I should go slowly.

That magnetic energy between us continues to vibrate every time he looks at me. I feel it even deep in my soul—at my core. Even though I try to stand firm and fight it, my body seems to have a will of its own.

My will breaks like the waves when they reach the shore.

“What are we going to do now?” I ask in a low voice. My lips are dry. I’m dying for him to put his back on my mouth, to moisten it.

“We’re going to start over,” he decrees. “And this time we’re going to do it right.”

I’m a deer caught by the lights, the flash of his kisses casting a spell.

He moves at full speed, it’s as if they had shot the gun to start the race. Covering my mouth with his, coaxing my lips apart, my tongue meets his, ready to dance. The kiss becomes more intense, hungrier.

I grab onto his shoulders because my stupid knees refuse to hold me. His scent is intoxicating, it fills everything. It affects me like heroin, powerful and devastating.

My fingers tangle in the long strands of his blond hair, pulling him closer to me. His mouth is still on mine, biting and tugging on my lips. When he lifts me off the floor with force, my legs wrap around his waist automatically. My nipples have hardened inside my bra. I rub against his body like a kitten and he moans in response.

In the past, heat invaded me every time he touched me.

Now, I’ve been sent on a direct, nonstop trip to the sun.

Like I have been submerged in boiling oil.

He wants me: I can feel it with his lips on mine, in his hands squeezing me from behind, in the erection that is trapped between us that I want to feel inside of me.

“We have to stop,” I say, despite my entire body protesting my words. Yes, it’s taken all my will to do it. But it’s necessary.

“As my wife wishes,” he answers, breathing fast, his chest rising and falling. “But I must warn you, this high school shit is going to get old very soon and when you finally let me get my hands all over you, on every part of your precious body, I’m going to make sure you pay for making me wait.”

I know those words sound like a threat, but the truth is that I can’t wait for it to be carried out.

Chapter 17

Making soaps is a labor of love. One I genuinely enjoy. The ingredients I ordered online have arrived, plus some other things I needed, like molds and cutters. Shipping my old stuff was so expensive, so it was better to repurchase some of the items.

Alexandra wasn’t kidding when she said patience isn’t her strong suit. A few days ago, Ethan came to see Lionel about some pending issues. I took the opportunity to send her some samples I received from home. Then, my new friend transformed, the sweet and smiling woman was replaced by a cavalry general in charge with an arsenal of bubbles in this case.

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