Page 47 of Sinful Scars

After blacking out and losing sight of Elle for two hours, I needed to see for myself that she was all right. That she wasalive.

I needed to know that I hadn’t made another colossal fuck up like I did at the bar.

By the time I managed to get back to the city, I caught a glimpse of her walking past her bedroom window in her pajamas, so I knew she was safe. But that wasn’t enough to calm the panic that had been bubbling inside me ever since I came to.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I was climbing her fire escape.

I should have left the second I realized Elle was awake. But then I wouldn’t be sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her drift off to sleep.

My presence shouldn’t be bringing her comfort.

If she knew the truth, I would be the reason for her nightmares.

It doesn’t take long for Elle’s breathing to grow heavy, and I watch her sleep for a while, listening to the sound of her breathing like it’s my own personal lullaby. It’s been weeks since she’s slept soundly through the night without being forced awake by the memories that haunt her, and I don’t want to disturb her by leaving.

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

I wish I could take them all away, to shoulder the burden of her past and finally set her free from it all. After all, there’s no hope for me.

My own past is too heavy, too intricately woven into myDNA, for me to ever escape it, so what’s a little more weight?

“Sleep well,” I whisper into the darkness.

As I go to stand, a soft sigh escapes Elle’s lips that sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.

I freeze as she stirs a little, stretching out her arms above her head and causing the sheet covering her to shift.

In the darkness, I can’t make out any specific details, which has me so tempted to turn on the light.

I need to get out of here.

Because I’m a selfish bastard with no self-control, I reach out and gently stroke her cheek, biting back a groan at how soft her skin feels against my fingers.

“Sweet dreams, Elle,” I whisper.

Suddenly, her hand is around my wrist, holding me in place. “Elle.”

She lets out a moan that has my cock thickening in my pants as she guides my hand toward her chest.

A choked sound escapes me as I brush against the silk material of the top she’s wearing, though from the way I can feel the slight swell of her breast, it doesn’t seem to be covering much.

Shewantsme to touch her.

I grind my teeth as she shifts beneath the sheet, my fingers still teasing the swell of her breast.

Is she rubbing her thighs together?

My mouth waters at the thought of pulling back the sheet and burying my face between her thighs to bring her some relief from the ache that is no doubt building between them.

But I shouldn’t.

Touching her like that would be wrong.

So very, very wrong?—

Elle whimpers softly as she arches her back, causing my fingers to graze her nipple through her top, and the last of my self-control snaps.

I move to cup her breast, gently squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

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