Page 74 of Heartless Sinner

We move from the dining room and head back up to bed where I take her again and again.

I have a perpetual need to claim her, and I feel like if I stop touching her, this bond we have will disappear. And I’ll never have her again.

I was supposed to check into work at some point, but day turned into night, and I couldn’t leave her.

One more time became two, then another until I lost count. Then I realized I had no plan to stop. The more I tasted her, the more she sunk beneath my skin, becoming part of me.

I’m not like this. Neither am I the type of man who can be easily influenced. I always have control. That’s what makes me who I am.

Scarlett James, my wife-to-be, has become the exception to all the rules in the book.

Like a dangerous poison, she slipped under my skin and engraved herself in my bones.

If I’m like this now, how am I going to be in a year’s time when I have to let her go?

The thought plagues my mind through the night as I continue taking from her.

Eventually, we end up in the shower under the cascade of cool water.

Steam curls around her, her dark hair turning obsidian as it clings to her shoulders.

She has her back to me, so I trace the curve of her spine, memorizing every dip and hollow as the light spray of water trickles down her skin.

Her pulse flutters beneath my fingers. I've mapped every inch of her body, but somehow, she still manages to entrance me, to make everything feel new.

The water trails down her back like tears and I follow their path, knowing I'll never tire of touching her and watching her come undone.

She likes the attention I give her body, but suddenly, she tenses, as if catching herself. Stopping herself from wanting me.

Unlike me, who’s fallen down the fucking rabbit hole, Scarlett is still resisting whatever she feels for me. It’s sensible. Resisting means she still has hope. I’m not sure I do, but I don’t want her to resist me. I want her to give herself to me.

I know she has other reasons outside of the contract to hold back. Namely Anton. I have no control over those reservations. She thinks I’m like him, so only time can show her that we have significant differences. Which means despite all I’ve done to help her, she’s not going to trust me over night.

I know Anton did some fucked-up shit to her that pushed her into rehab, but I don’t know the full story. Whatever it is makes me want to kill him.

I rest my hand on the small of her back and stroke the curve of her waist. She bites her bottom lip, trying so, so hard not to like what I’m doing to her.

"Stop it," I whisper against her ear and plant a kiss on the top of her shoulder.

She turns to face me and leans against the granite walls, staring back at me. “Stop what?”

“Holding back.”

“How do you know I’m holding back?” She narrows her eyes.

I grin at her and rest my hand on the space over her head. “I just know, bellezza. You don’t have to do that with me. Newsflash, you can like me all you want now. Don’t tell me you’re still trying to deny that you do.”

She smiles, and it’s a beautiful sight. “I’m not. I do like you.”

“And I like you, too. Why don’t we start with that and forget everything else?”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is. We’re already doing it. Aren’t we?”

“Yes. I’m just…” The smile recedes with her voice.

“Being careful,” I fill in for the second time today.

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