Page 135 of Only for Him
It pricks like a needle too close to the bone.
I look down. Water and cum trail down my legs and puddle at my feet. All I can feel is the weight of what he doesn’t know. The mistake he’s already made. The one wearing a towel and pretending she hasn’t already started lying to him.
You should tell him.You have to. He’ll find out, eventually. Better to do it now, when there’s time to fix it, and not when Russo’s banging down the door to get you out.
But I don’t.
“How do I tell?” I ask, voice quiet, sharp. “How do I know when the line between justice and revenge disappears?”
He turns to me, slow and deliberate, his gaze a blue storm. “You think I don’t know that line? You think I haven’t bled on both sides of it?”
I stare at my reflection in the foggy glass and see someone else looking back. Not the girl I was when I started this. Not the cop. Not even the sister.
“Why do you act like trust is simple?” I ask, breath hitching at my own words.
The question I’m really asking:are you sure you want to trust me?
“Because it is,” he says. “Because I see you. I know what you’re capable of. You didn’t flinch tonight. You didn’t hesitate.”
“Don’t confuse instinct with belief.”
He steps closer, crowding the air between us. “You think I haven’t made peace with who I am? I’ve been the monster under the bed, but I’ve also been the blade in a girl’s hand when no one else would help her fight back.”
My throat tightens.
“And me?” I whisper. “You really think I can…?”
His fingers lift to my chin, tilting my face up.
“I trust you,” he says. “With my life.”
My heart breaks a little. Which doesn’t make sense. I’ve given him my body, and my mind, but not my heart.
Never that.
But he says it like his trust is a gift. Like I haven’t already started dismantling everything he’s building.
Like he doesn’t know I’m the one thing he shouldn’t trust.
33
GISELLE
Roman pinsme to the wall before we’re even out of the basement. His mouth is on my neck, teeth grazing skin, ready to eat me alive again. And I’m so fucking ready for it.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing and I wrap my legs around his waist because I’m done pretending I have control. I don’t have it, and I don’t even want it. I want him to take it from me.
He’ll do it anyway. Thank Christ for that.
“Fuck, little viper,” he breathes into my ear. “You want this so bad, don’t you?”
I need it. I’ll die without his cock inside me, filling me up, pushing away everything that isn’t pleasure. This emptiness will fucking kill me, but he won’t let that happen.
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
He strips my jeans off in one hard pull, his own undone with a grunt, and when he pushes into me, I gasp so loud it echoes up the stairs.
I know Rosa and Dakota can hear.
