Page 59 of Our Little Cliche
“It’s nothing,” I lie. It’s very muchnotnothing.It’s very mucheverythingright about now and my head feels like it’s going to explode with all of the overwhelming feelings I have for you.
“It’s not nothing, Holly. I’m asking you to please tell me what’s on your mind. Your body is screaming a thousand different things, and I don’t want to make the wrong move on you if—” he takes a sharp breath, squeezing my hand affectionately. And then, his voice does the signature move and drops an octave, vibrating my core like my Satisfyer Pro. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Lose me?
“You can tell me anything, I hope you know that. You’re safe here. With me,” he adds and I know he’s telling the truth. I could tell himanythingand he wouldn’t judge me—just like he didn’t when he learned the reason I’m here, or when I fell down the ladder, or bit my lip, or when I sprinkled pastry over my hair.
Under the intense, yet fully controlled gaze he has pinned on me as though I were a novel he’s trying to read, I soften.I can’t believe I’m about to do this.I purse my lips, blowing a resounding breath. “I’ve been… torturing myself since I met you. Not just for how much I’ve wanted to kiss you again, but something worse since I…” He stays silent, brushing his thumb over my hand, patiently waiting for me to find my words. “Read your book. I can’t even be in the same room with you without wanting to kiss you. Actually,kissingis just scratching the surface. And I know, it’s insane, but?—”
“It’s not insane, Holly.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” I whisper.
Does he…
Does he know?
Cyrus’s eyes trail down to our hands and I follow as if our bodies are in sync. “I don’t need to, angel.”
Angel.
He turns our hands out so that mine is palm side up, cradling it in his like a newborn infant. Gentle, but firm and safe. My eyes retreat to his as he loosens, but he doesn’t look at me, rather he’s focused on caressing the side of my palm with his thumb.
Holy moly.
“I told you, I pay attention. When I say it’s not insane, I mean it. Because I want it, too,” he adds, all too easily as though he knowsEXACTLYwhat I meant, then plants a soft kiss on my hand before putting it down on my lap.
“I really doubt you and I want the same things,” I disagree, dejected, tucking my knees into my chest.
“Holly.” He yanks my legs back down by the ankles with anI will fuck it out of you if I have to,kind of look. His tone is serious. His eyes almost pitch black with desire, fueling the moisture between my legs to multiply. “I observe you,andyour body. Right now you’re testing me and I can’t tell if you’re doing it to avoid telling me what you truly want or because you enjoy making me lose my mind over you. I’m trying so hard not to do what I want with you Holly. I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.”
Not a single word can be articulated from my thoughts right now, other thankiss me, fuck me… love me,but they don’t leave my lips. He curls his hands under my thighs, then squeezes them, lifting my legs over his—spreading me in the process.
Crap, please don’t have a wet patch down there, please don’t have a wet patch,I pray silently.
Cyrus drawls the words like an erotic audio book. “I. Know. What. You. Want,Holly.”
“You… do?”
He can’t possibly know that I want to be railed in my sleep. Be loved, possessed, and obsessed over like the books. He can’t know that I dream of being given an orgasm withoutme needing to do it—because I’ve never had an orgasm from someone else.
“Say it.”It’s a demand.We’re playing a dangerous game here. “Say you want me.” His breath is hot, hanging on the edge of temptation. Even with this much demand, Cyrus is giving me full control—the ball is in my court. He’s prepared to ruin everything… for me. He wants me. He…needsme.
A rush of that same adrenaline spikes through me and I have nothing left in me to stop it. “I… w-want.” I stutter. “You.”
“Better. Now say what you really want,” he teases, tapping on the manuscript beside him.
Holyfuckingshit.
He does know.
Chapter Thirty
CYRUS
How in theever living fuck is Holly inches from my cock with her legs banded around me right now?Am I dreaming?I squeeze her thighs again, and she whimpers softly. Nope, not dreaming. Fuck.
“I want…”Yes? Tell me what you really want.“It’s embarrassing.”
