Page 63 of Deceit

“So naturally, you use your power of authority over her and break into her room while she’s gone.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, before he blows out a breath.

“I’m sorry, I should have given you space. It was fucking killing me knowing that you’ve assumed the worst from all of this. That you thought I didn’t care about you, that I would cheat on you. That I—”

“You can’t cheat on me if we aren’t in a relationship, Ronan. We never were,” I cut off.

His eyes fly up to mine, and what looks like hurt flashes across his face.

“Bullshit. We were together. Just because we didn’t put a label on it doesn’t mean you weren’t mine and I wasn’t yours.”

He pauses for a moment, as if he is trying to find the right words.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I allowed myself to be in a compromising position that made you question my loyalty to you. All I see is you, Skyla. No one else matters.”

I want to believe him, so badly. That’s stupid though, right? This is what any man would say if he was caught with another woman, wouldn’t he? Yet, some part of me, however ignorant it may be, believes him.

“So, what do you want?” I ask, doing my best to regain control of the conversation.

“What do you mean?” Ronan asks.

“I mean, what do you want? You explained yourself, I heard you out. Five minutes is up. What do you want?”

He doesn’t speak for a while, instead he just stares at me. His breathing is ragged, and the tension is so thick between us even a knife wouldn’t do.

Slowly, he begins making his way towards me, closing the remaining distance between us before my back is plastered against my door and his arms are braced above me.

“You. I want you, Skyla. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll beg and plead, I’ll lay at your feet and kneel before you every day. Whatever you need, whatever you want, it’s yours. I would stop the earth on its axis for you.”

“Why?” I ask softly, doing my best to battle the butterflies desperate to emerge at his declaration.

He shakes his head softly, lifting his hand to cup my cheek as he does.

“Because you’re worth it.”

Despite my best efforts, my heart swells and my stomach flips. I want to be impervious to this man, so badly. He’s too old for me, he’s my fiancé’s uncle, and he’s involved in this fucked up society that my father is wrapped up in. Nothing about him or our situation is a good idea. Yet, the feeling of his skin onmine sends all rationale out the window leaving only my fuzzy, confused, head over heels emotions.

“Do you still want me, Skyla? Do we still have a chance?”

“You hurt me,” I say softly.

His face crumples as he shakes his head.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I would never betray you, ever. You have to know that. Know that right here,” he says, taking one of my hands and resting it against his heart. “This belongs to you, only you. I need you more than I need air in my lungs, or the feeling of water around me on a hard day. If you don’t want me though, I’ll understand and I’ll let you go.”

Even though I think he believes his words, I don’t. They seem to physically hurt him just by uttering them. He may let me go physically, but I’m not sure he would emotionally. Why do I like that? How toxic am I? Are we? That the idea of him not being able to move on from me fills me with relief, instead of panic or fear like it should?

“I want you,” I say softly.

He doesn’t speak like I expected. Instead, he drops my hand and cups my face with both of his hands, holding me like I’m his most prized possession as he crushes his lips to mine. It’s been days since we’ve kissed, but it feels like years. Ronan’s lips move against me seamlessly, perfectly. It’s as easy as breathing, and it equally hurts and heals something inside me. God, I missed him.

His hands slide beneath my legs, lifting me into the air. I wrap my thighs around him as he carries us deeper into my room, laying me down onto the bed without breaking our kiss. His kisses pepper against my skin, across my cheek and down my neck as his hands work on the button of my jeans quickly. When he opens them, he slips a hand inside, pausing almost instantly.

“Where are your panties, baby?”

I freeze at that, guilt instantly consuming me. Do I have anything to feel guilty about? Absolutely not. Do I still feelit, because I’ve kissed two men within twenty minutes of each other? Most definitely.

When I don’t answer, he frowns. “Where were you tonight?”

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