Page 95 of Perfect
“Hi, sweetheart.” He stands up and slips his phone into his back pocket as he leans down to kiss me, handing me a warm coffee cup as he does. “I got you ginger tea. I know you feel better, but I still thought it would be nice. How was the massage?” I lean into him a little, and his free arm wraps around my waist reflexively.
“It was great, thank you.”
“I’m glad. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” He looks down at me with a warm, hungry expression.
“There’s a nice hotel a few blocks away with a huge bathtub and good room service.” He shoots me a quick grin. “I thought it might be nice to connect a little.” I roll my eyes at him but don’t say anything, because it sounds amazing.
It feels incredible to be cared for like this.
That’s a problem.
***
As we check into the hotel, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple absently, as if being affectionate towards me is natural for him, like he’s been doing it for years. It’s impossible to ignore how much I want him, even though I shouldn’t. It’s so new to feel cared for like this, and I like it so much that I’m willing to overlook the fact that I’m trapped, just for a little bit.
For the first time, I let myself sink into the fantasy he’s so invested in.
It’s overwhelming how easy it feels.
We’re barely in the elevator before I push him back into the wall, pressing onto my toes and kissing him deeply. He seems shocked for a moment before he grips my hips and pulls me in tightly, making a low, content sound in the back of his throat as he kisses me back.
It’s nice to pretend this is normal. It’s nice to completely ignore the fact that he’s stalking me, to flirt and kiss and undress, to let him softly kiss my cunt while I order us a bottle of champagne and room service, to drink and joke and make out in the bath, to act like he’s actually my boyfriend.
I let myself pretend all of it is normal as he sits back against the headboard and I crawl into his lap, gripping his shoulders as I lower myself onto him slowly, taking my time and teasing him. His hands tighten on my ass, his moan low and appreciative, his eyes bouncing from my lips to my tits to where we’re joined and back again.
I have to lower myself the last inch or two carefully, tilting my hips forward and back until I find the most comfortable angle, moaning when he’s finally all the way in. His hazel eyes are wide as I start to ride him, his face torn between adoration and lust and something I don’t really recognize.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was hope.
I twine my arms around his neck, leaning into him, grinding slowly as his hands roam over my back and come forward to cup my breasts, his thumbs running over the peaks of my nipples. His touch feels intoxicating, and an electric current hums through my body when he kisses me. I close my eyes and melt into the feeling.
It’s never felt like this before.
“What hasn’t?” I look at him, slowing myself until I’m barely moving. Fuck, did I say that out loud? All of a sudden, I feel too naked, and the sex feels too intimate.
“Uhm, this. It feels…different.” His eyes widen, his pupils large in the low light, and he looks surprised as he searches my face and wraps his arms around me tightly. “Theo,” I say slowly, “why are you looking at me like that?”
“You feel it, don’t you?” Theo’s voice is an excited, low whisper, and his body is tense beneath me. I try to pull away from him, but his arms are like a vice around me, and he won’t let me move. “Oh, my god, youdo. Alex, you’reherewith me.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smiles at me tenderly, pulling me closer. “You’re finally letting me in.”
Oh, god, he can tell.
What the fuck am Idoing? Why am I giving into this bullshit delusion of his? I’m so fucking stupid if I think I actually want him, that he’s not just manipulating me successfully. I can’t be desperate enough to have someone be nice to me that I’m willing to overlook the fact that he’s a violent fucking asshole who broke into my life and took it away.
That’s pathetic.
“No, I’m not,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t like this. I don’t likeyou.” His expression shifts into deep hurt, and his eyes flick down to my lips as he grips me tighter.
“Iknowyou don’t mean that.” Intense anger surges through me, and I need to get out of here. I need to get away from his feelings, frommyfeelings. I start pushing away from him, but his arms are locked around me. “Sweetheart, please don’t push me away,” he says, his voice pained. “I know you’re scared of being happy with me, but you don’t have to be.”
Oh,fuck him,and fuck me for letting my guard down like this. I need an out,anykind of out. He shouldn’t get to make me feel like this.
Fuck it. I’m going to push.
