Page 62 of Unleash Hades
Heat rushed to my cheeks, as I remembered all the times I had done just that. I had whispered his moniker into the pillow as my hand drifted into my underwear. I had grinded against my fingers, and done obscene things to myself, all inhisname.
Had I imagined that he was watching? Sometimes. But more often, I imagined him with me. His stubbled jaw, his rough hands, his impassive eyes and rough mouth. I had remembered him with incredible clarity each and every time, keeping his memory alive every night like it was my prayer.
“I think you liked me watching.” His voice pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts, and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing at his tanned throat. “As much as it tormented me to watch.”
“Tormented?” I tried to sound casual, but instead, my voice came out a weak little whisper.
“Oh, my eyes could see you.” He bit down on his lower lip, then let it slip from between his white teeth before he smirked, “But it’s your taste I want.”
He was up on his feet in a flash, the seat rolling away behind him, crashing into the conference table. He towered over me, pushing me onto his desk, and I moaned at his heat. He enveloped me in his presence.
He kissed my cheek, his lips lingering, warm andrealagainst my skin.
“All I could think about was the memory of you on my tongue.” His fingertips lightly grazed up my side, tickling my skin, and letting warm goosebumps spread up my back, to the base of my spine. Despite the cold, I still felt flushed and heated in his presence. “It has been agony, to have tasted you, then been starved for almost ten years.”
My breasts felt heavy, my nipples pebbling, wishing for those warm lips again. I thought that distance had idealized my memories.
I had thought that I had built him up in my head to be something of legends. The memory of my one indiscretion, my one momentof joy, my single second of happiness kept me going, and became more golden with every recalling.
But here he was. As perfect, and as pristine as he had been in my head.
How was it possible?
His fingertips continued to trace up my skin until they landed on my cheek.
He didn’t cup my face, but simply waited, our breaths heavy, warming the space between us.
“You cannot pretend that you haven’t seen me,” he said, finally, pointing out the insanity of this whole situation. “I have touched you, saved you, watched you from a distance. You have seen me. You have felt me.”
I shook my head.
Yes. Yes, I had, but in my need to keep my lie real I had convinced myself that it was a hallucination. He was a figment of my imagination. This was all a dream. He was a madness that I concocted to stay sane.
“Lie tohim,”he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I don’t care what you say to him. I don’t care what you call him. I don’t care that you say you love him, and call him darling.”
He sounded like he wanted to vomit those words.
He obviously did care. So did I.
I swallowed my bile each time those lies crossed my lips. Each time I had to sayhisname. The man who had no business in my thoughts when I was with Hugo Martin.
“But don’t lie to me.” His fingers pinched my chin, turning my face towards him, giving me no escape from his observant, golden-brown eyes.
I swallowed, feeling an ache in my chest, and a fear in my gut.
I had lied for so long. I had liedhard.I had said it with so much conviction that I didn’t know if I could speak the truth anymore.
“Remember, that I have watched it all.” His voice was gentler this time. Kinder.
I felt a tear slip down my cheek.
It had been so long since I had received kindness from more than just the boys. My defenses weren’t made for it. I had built my walls to withstand hate, and threats, but not this…
“You can tell me anything, Cali,” he said. My heart sank to my feet. “Tell me…”
My fingers trembled as I held them against my ribs, trying to keep one small shred of barrier between me and this French monster that walked around my emotional Maginot Line.
“What do you want to know?” My voice was heavy with defeat.
