Page 95 of Aria

A groan escaped me, my inner caveman demanding to be unleashed.

Want. Take. Have.

Her honey still slicked my fingers, and my lips tingled from our fevered kisses.

But hell… seeing her wince in pain when I touched her neck was a sharp slap back to reality. She’d just been assaulted by a madman; nearly raped.

As much as I wanted her, I cared about her too much to continue while she was intoxicated and traumatized.

I’d already taken it too far.

Somehow, I resisted, finding an ounce of strength and common sense. I ducked my head, moving off of her, just before her mouth claimed another kiss. “Chelsie, we should stop.”

She touched her forehead to mine as she rolled over to face me, her hand curling behind my neck. Tilting her chin up, she placed a kiss to my lips. A sweet, perfect kiss. A promise of so much more. “Please… make love to me.”

My eyes fluttered closed, willpower waning. “God… we can’t. I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

“But we already—”

“That was for you. I wanted to make you feel good.”

When she finally pulled away, she blinked with confusion.

Her eyes turned wounded.

“You know we can’t,” I said gently. “I refuse to be selfish when you’re still in shock. You’ll hate me in the morning.”

“I could never hate you.”

I massaged my thumb along her cheekbone. “Iwould hate me.”

Reality seemed to claim her as she inched herself backward. “God, I’m sorry…” Chelsie reached for her discarded shirt and pulled it back over her head, then tugged the bedcovers up over her half-naked body. “I’m a mess. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I—”

“Whoa, that’s not what happened, okay?” I didn’t want her regret, or her shame. I didn’t want her apologies. I just wanted her to understand. “We can discuss in the morning when you’re feeling more yourself. I’m not saying I don’t want to take this further because I do. I really do.” My cock twitched in agreement. “When the circumstances are right.”

She nodded slowly, processing my words. “Okay.”

“Get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Worrying her lip between her teeth, she nodded again before rolling over and facing away from me.

Emptiness settled in the moment she was out of reach. I tried to get comfortable on my own side of the bed, my tongue still buzzing with remnants of tasting her, but Chelsie surprised me by turning onto her back to glance at me.

“Can you still hold me?”

My heartstrings tugged inside my chest—strings I thought had been tied into unbreakable knots a long time ago. “Of course,” I said, echoing my answer from earlier. I would never say no to holding her; she was one of the few good things in my life, and I couldn’t let go of something like that.

I moved across the bed and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me. Her skin was warm, like a languid day at the beach. I could almost smell the saltwater and seashells in her hair.

It was winter in New York, but she would always be summer.

“Goodnight,” she whispered into the crook of my arm, falling asleep in an instant. I could tell by the way her breathing slowed to placid, heavy breaths. I counted them for a while as if they were sheep. Perfect, brilliant sheep.

One. Two. Three.

In and out.

In and out.

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