Page 43 of Vicious Addictions

When I slipped out of Jude’s room this afternoon, I’d been relieved that he’d been too out of it even to see me leaving, much less notice my absence.

But I know better than to think it’s just mere exhaustion that’s keeping him in bed—grief and depression weigh just as heavily on him.

I know today isn’t just any other day for him.

And I refuse to let him go through it alone.

After a quick shower, I make my way to the west wing of my house so I can carefully sneak back into his room. Relief washes over me when I find him still sound asleep.

Quietly, I take off my trainers and slide under the covers.

The moment my body meets his, Jude stirs, instinctively pulling me closer. His arm drapes over my stomach, his grip firm but familiar. My breath hitches as his face nestles into the crook of my neck, warmth spreading across my skin like wildfire.

Just as I’m close to steadying my rapid heartbeat, Jude shifts yet again, his leg slipping over mine, his body reacting in a way that sends my pulse racing.

And just like that, the air in the room turns electric when I feel his bulging cock pressed up against my thigh.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

I have to bite down a moan when his palm aimlessly slithers up my tank top, his thumb caressing the softness of my belly.

Yep, definitely a bad idea.

I’m about to combust.

Not that Jude is aware of the torment he’s inflicting on me.

He’s still off in la la land while I’m being held hostage in the worst form of torture.

My body tingles all over with just his breath on my neck, his lips so close to my skin that all I have to do is lean in for him to end me with his kiss.

I should leave.

I should get out of this bed and leave him be.

But my body refuses to move an inch, too enticed by the way his hard body molds itself onto mine.

I shut my eyes in utter embarrassment at how quickly my panties start to dampen when Jude’s fingers dig into my tender flesh.

Oh, bloody hell. This is torture.

Unable to stop myself, I squirm under his touch, needing his hand to explore the rest of my body.

Maybe if I…

Before I can second guess myself, I softly cover his hand with mine and ever so slowly direct it down—to where I feel ache the most. I’m not brave enough to shove his hand into my panties, but leaving it over my mound is enough to make my eyes roll back in their sockets.

This is wrong.

This is so wrong.

And yet, I can’t stop myself.

I wiggle a little more, coaxing his hand to run up and down my soaked slit.

If he just added a little pressure…if I could just feel his skin on mine.

I bite down on my knuckles, muffling the low moan that comes out when his thumb unintentionally brushes against my clit. My breathing turns even more erratic when his lips graze the slope of my neck.

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