Page 31 of Brutal Obsession

“Harper.” Cian’s rough, velvety voice curling around my name shouldn’t sound so erotic, but it really, really does.

“Hmm?” The noise muffles behind my hand.

“You’re covering your mouth.” His husky tone seduces my ears, while his delicious, musky cedar scent toys with my olfactory nerve. Heady, spicy-sweet, and masculine enough to dissolve the clothes right off my body. “Are you okay?”

“No…” My whisper is almost inaudible.

I must be dreaming. Did Cian really just ask me if I’m all right?

As far as I can recall, no man on earth has ever uttered those three words to me.

Yet another reminder of why I left.

My bottom lip trembles in reaction as the roller coaster of recent events starts to sink in. His thumb ghosts the curve, tracing it with the tenderness of someone who genuinely cares.

The soft kiss he presses to my forehead lulls me into a false sense of safety.

How absurd.

Inside, I ache to resist, but I’m paralyzed. Exhausted. Confused.

My mental faculties are depleted from worrying and playing through scenario after scenario in my mind. Trying my best to take care of myself when all I really know how to do is rely on others to do it for me.

His palms rub up and down my arms, and I just stand here, accepting these gentle, reassuring gestures at face value because I lack the energy to resist.

I’m not okay. Not at all.

But the fact that he asked me if I was, with concern gleaming in his eye while leaving soft kisses on my face…that means more than it probably should.

By the time his massive hands come to wrap around my waist, I’m overwhelmed by just how much it means to me.

Stupid, I know. Just because he said it doesn’t mean he actually cares.

I want to believe he does, though. And that probably scares me more than anything else.

When I don’t respond, he calls my name again. “Harper?”

Something he said to me the night before I fled rings in the back of my head. Before rational thought catches up to me, I repeat his words from the alleyway.

“One night.”

Seems like years ago, but in this moment, no memory could be fresher in my mind.

His brow furrows for an instant before understanding hits. Shock widens his eyes. Then they start to blaze. “You sure?”

Not by a mile. But still sure enough to throw caution to the wind.

I fold my arms over his shoulders and push myself up on my tiptoes. “Yes.”

Then I kiss him.

I kiss him the way I’ve always dreamed about kissing the man who cared about me. A man who loved me.

Cian’s not that man, but he’s likely the closest I’ll ever get, especially considering who’s waiting for me at the end of the aisle back home.

Whether I’m forced to marry Finn or sold off to some lesser Kings’ ally for my betrayal, I’m certain this will be my final chance to touch someone because I want to and not because I’m their property.

My heart twists, so I shove that thought aside and instead focus on the now.

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