Page 38 of Endless Love

She licks her lips, staring out of the window, but she doesn’t say anything else. “What about your brothers?” she says after a little while. “We haven’t seen them since the first attack.”

“I think Lev’s figured out where we’re going.” I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, rotating my hands back and forth. “I imagine they’re waiting for us in Vegas. And that’s something I’ll have to deal with when I get there.” I glance over at her. “I won’t let them hurt you, Charlotte. No matter what.”

“You keep saying that.” She still isn’t looking at me. “But you’re one man, Ivan. They’re three.”

She goes silent again after that, and I don’t know what to say in response. I want to convince her that I’m better than the man she thinks I am, I want to protect her, and yet every effort to do that feels as if it’s pushed to the side. As if none of it is good enough, convincing enough, to make her believe me.

Is it obsession, to want to keep trying?There’s never been a woman in my life before that I would go to such lengths to make her want me. To make her trust me. But with Charlotte, I can’t let go. I can’t accept that she’ll always think of me as the villain in her story, as someone who destroyed her life, as amistake.

There’s a way to fix it, and I just have to figure out what it might be.

We drive until it’s well after dark, and I find another small, shady motel for us to spend the evening at. Charlotte remains quiet as I pay for our room, and my pulse beats a quick staccato in my throat, the need to touch her after the day we’ve had so strong that it feels painful.

It’s not just a sexual need, either. I want more than that from her. And I want her to feel it. I want her to know that it’s more than just how much I want to fuck her.

I fight that urge all the way up to our room. But the moment we step inside, and I feel her brush against me as she goesto close the door, her warm scent filling my nose—I can’t stop myself from reaching out for her.

My arm slides around her waist, pulling her in against me. I don’t push her up against the door; I don’t move fast or rough at all. I just hold her, one arm wrapped around her, and I slide the other into her hair before she can do more than let out a small gasp of surprise, lowering my mouth to hers.

It’s not a rough kiss or a passionate one, although the need and desire churning through me wants to demand both. Instead, I kiss her in a way that I’m not sure I ever have before.

I brush my lips against hers, softly, running my tongue over her lower lip as I draw it between mine, my hand splayed over her hip as I hold her close. The kiss is tender, sweet, and I pour every bit of emotion that I feel into it, my fingers tangled gently in her hair, my chest rising and falling against hers. I’m falling in love with her, and if I said it out loud, she’d turn away from me and call it another lie. But this isn’t something I can fake—and so I want her to feel it instead.

I expect her to pull away, to fight, to slap me. But instead, I feel her tense, her lips parting under mine, and my tongue sweeps into her mouth. She tastes as sweet as always, like ginger soda and candy, and I deepen the kiss, tangling my tongue with hers as I breathe her in.

I’m so fucking hard, just from kissing her. I know she can feel it pressed against her belly, but I don’t push it further. I just want to kiss her right now, and I know she’s going to stop me in a minute, when she regains her senses. There’s no way she’s going to fuck me tonight, and I don’t think I would, even if she begged. I want to believe that I wouldn’t, at least, that I’d stick to what I told her the last time I had her wet and coming on my fingers.

The next time I fuck you, it’s going to be because you want me to fuck you. Not this fantasy that you want to hide behind.

I meant it then, and I still do, even if every cell in my body is screaming that I need to be inside of her. If that’s ever going to happen between us again, I want it to be because it’s real. Because she wants me, exactly as I am, exactly as the man she now knows me to be.

For the briefest moment, I feel her tongue drag against mine, feel her fingers dig into my biceps as she kisses me back. I feel her arch against me, the press of her hips to mine, the way my hard cock rubs between us as a small moan spills from her mouth into mine.

And then she jerks back, as I knew she would, panting as she drags her hand over the back of her mouth. The unintentional lewdness of the gesture makes my cock jump, and I grit my teeth against the wave of desire that threatens to drag me under, as Charlotte shakes her head violently.

“No,” she says sharply, just the one word, bit off as if it tastes bad in her mouth. And then she pivots on her heel, stalking towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

I sink against the cracked desk on one side of the room, reaching down to adjust myself in my jeans. I groan under my breath as I feel myself shift against the fabric, just that sensation enough to make me throb, pre-cum dripping down my shaft. I hear the shower turn on, and for a brief second, I consider slipping my cock free and giving myself the relief I so desperately need.

But the last thing Ineedis for Charlotte to come out and catch me doing that. So instead, I give myself a reluctant squeeze, sinking down into the nearby chair with a sigh.

One thing is for sure, though.

I’m definitely going to be taking a shower after she’s done.

18

CHARLOTTE

Ican still feel Ivan’s kiss, stinging my lips as I turn on the taps for the shower forcefully, listening to the water gurgling through the pipes before the spray finally comes on.

He’s never kissed me like that before. I expected him to push me against the door, sit me on the edge of the desk, back me up to the bed, and tumble me back onto it. I expected passion, force, for him to take what he so obviously wants from me.

But he didn’t. He just kissed me, and it was almost—sweet?

It confuses the hell out of me. Ivan is a forceful man, a man of violence and brutality. I know that now. But he’s different with me. He’s careful, considerate, and when I saidno, he stopped immediately, even though I could see how badly he wanted it to beyes. I couldfeelit, when he was kissing me.

I’ve never slept with any man who gets as hard for me as Ivan does. Who wants me so desperately. And it’s harder and harder with every passing day to ignore how much that turns me on, too.

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