Page 145 of Meet Me In The Dark
“I don’t need saving, remember?” My voice cracks slightly. “I don’t need a hero.”
“Tough shit, remember?” He steps closer, lowering his voice to something dangerously intimate. “And I don’t want to be your hero, Celeste. You do a damn good job of being your own. I just want to…” He trails off, searching for the words.
“Protect me,” I finish because I understand more than he realizes. My resistance dissolves as his hand encloses mine. “Fine, but only if you let me do the same for you.”
I smooth my palm down his silk tie and tug.
There’s a dark shadow clinging to this charming man of mine. I see it sometimes when his guard slips, when he doesn’t know I’m watching. I catch glimpses when our bodies are connected, when he unravels completely beneath me. It’s there in the way his gazesometimes drifts, lost in memories he’s never shared. It’s in those possessive touches in the dark, where he thinks that because I can’t see, I must not feel the depth of his need. And it’s there, too, in moments when he takes control only to surrender it back to me, silently begging me to wield it against him.
He’s waiting to be hurt.
I see it.
And I hear it clearly in every word he leaves unspoken.
Curling two fingers under my chin, he tilts my head up. “Besides you, who do I need protecting from, huh?”
I swallow the lump rising in my throat and hold his gaze.
“Yourself,” I whisper. “Sometimes, Julian, I think you need protecting from yourself.”
His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but his eyes tell me he already knows I’m right.
Forty-Five
Julian
We burst through Celeste’s apartment door, the sound of it slamming drowned out by our heavy breathing.
The image of Kingsley’s hands on her is driving me fucking crazy. Just thinking about it makes me want to go back and remind him, in a way he’d never forget, that some things are too far out of his reach to even imagine touching.
I was close to it earlier, closer than I’ve been in years, until I felt her hand on my arm. That single touch cut straight through the red clouding my vision. Only she could do that, and it’s stoking a possessive fury in me that leaves no room for rational thought.
“You’re mine,” I growl into her lips, needing her to feel it bone-deep.
My mouth claims hers, tasting her desperation. She meets my kiss with equal intensity, nails scraping over my chest, leaving scorching paths beneath my shirt that mark me as hers.
She drops to her knees, her gaze unbroken as she quickly pulls at the belt buckle before freeing my cock. Her eyes remain locked with mine as she parts her lips, enveloping me fully, her warmth stealing the strength from my knees. My fingers twist into her hair, anchoring myself as she takes me deep.
“Celeste,” I say through gritted teeth as she hums around me.
Her mouth works me in a slow, relentless rhythm that has me dangerously close to unraveling right here, completely at her mercy.
“Enough,” I command, pulling her up.
Her swollen lips part in protest, but she obeys when I tug her zipper down, both of us watching as the dress pools at her feet.
“On the bed.”
Surprisingly, she’s not fighting me tonight and, for once, does what she’s told.
Her hands reach for me again, fingers desperate to feel my skin, but tonight, my possessiveness demands something else. Something deeper.
I gently catch her wrists, lift each one to my mouth, and press a kiss to the pulse points, feeling her heartbeat race beneath my lips.
“I need you to trust me.”
“I do.” She nods, her eyes full of certainty as I pull my tie free and wrap it around her wrists before securing her firmly to the bedposts above her head.
