Page 91 of When Hearts Awaken

Taylor moans as she stares at me, her face flushed and breathing rapidly. She trails her fingers to her heaving tits and swirls the digits over my cum. Then she slowly brings them up to her lips and licks her fingers, tasting me.

She moans and closes her eyes before sucking her fingers like she can’t get enough.

Fuck me. Tugging my cock a few more times, I wring out every drop of cum, every pleasure I can get in this moment, hoping in the light of day she won’t regret any of this.

“Shit,” she whispers, her eyes opening and staring at my cock again. “You weren’t kidding at ABTC about your inches.”

Her lips twitch and it takes a few seconds for me to remember what she’s referring to—that day at the steps, which seems so long ago, and I bark out a laugh. This woman.

“Fucking minx,” I rasp, watching as her eyes glint with laughter.

Gripping her neck, I haul her to me for another kiss and soon, intense passion chases away the humor. She melts against me, not caring we’re a mess of cum and sweat. My tongue tangles with hers, her nails scraping down my back. My cock stirs, wanting another round, wanting to be buried inside her this time.

With my last ounce of restraint, I tear myself away from her, but not before pressing the softest kiss on her lips.

“This is how it should be between two people who want each other,” I whisper to her parted lips. “The tip of the iceberg.” I press another kiss on her mouth and rasp, “I won’t rush you, but I want you so damn much. All your thorns. All your scars. Every inch of you. Step into the light with me, Taylor.”

Her eyes fill with tears as her throat works. She’s rendered speechless. But it’s okay. I know what she’s thinking, even without words.

She once said my heart is in my eyes.

But really, she’s talking about herself, because I want to be the man she’s staring at right now…in shock, awe, and all the heavy emotions I’ve tried to ignore most of my life, thinking they are beasts I should tame.

I want to unleash them with her.

“You’re never alone. Not anymore,” I murmur.

A few tears slip out of her eyes, and she throws her arms around me. She cries into my chest, each sob carving a new wound on my heart. I curl my arms around her shaking body, anguish tearing up my insides. I hold her close until her shudders calm and I feel her body relaxing.

“Charles?” she mumbles, her voice sluggish, like she’s seconds away from drifting off to sleep.

“Yes, minx?”

“I’m fucked up. Why do you like me? Give me a reason. Any reason…” Her voice drifts off.

I frown and look down at her, finding her fast asleep, a frown marring her forehead. It’s torture to see her like this, beautiful but scar-ridden at my feet. The helplessness of not being able to take away her pain. The rage threatening to swallow me whole.

Leaning down, I kiss her forehead and smooth out the wrinkle there. She lets out a sigh and snuggles deeper into my hold.

I want to know what happened; I want to fix her.

Someday, she’ll tell me everything and I’ll chase away every single shadow in her eyes.

Her demons are mine, her enemies are mine.

I’ll destroy them, whoever they are.

Chapter 38

The air is frigidearly December in Edinburgh as I walk along the Water of Leith, a river cutting through Dean Village. It’s a neighborhood dating back to the 12thcentury, which used to be known for its grain mills, but is now a quiet residential area famous for its cobbled streets, stone bridges, and medieval style architecture. The rest of the company went out to celebrate after wrapping up the Edinburgh performances.

Lisa swore she wouldn’t leave my side this time. She felt so guilty after I told her what happened, leaving out the part about Charles coming to my rescue. I told her it wasn’t her fault.

But nevertheless, after what happened in Prague, I declined the group outing. Instead, I find myself walking the quiet streets, breathing in the chilly late afternoon air. I want to think through some things.

Taking a seat at a bench by the river, I hold the small bouquet of roses up to my nose, smelling the sweet scent, and I smile. A dozen burgundy roses, thorns intact and tipped with gold glitter, carefully wrapped in black parchment paper. I read the note card affixed to it for the hundredth time.

To My Minx,

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