Page 50 of My Captive's Heart
Flashes of my debauched and carnal week with Alexander play in my head.
My nipples pebble and my pussy quivers, remembering the heat of Alexander’s lips and tongue and hands.
More than that, it’s the soft moments when we chatted, goofed around a little, and flirted that bring a pang to my chest. Especially his confession about how much he loves me. He couldn’t say it enough. He told me those three words more times in a week than Matt has in the five years of our relationship.
“What do you think?” Matt taps my arm.
“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”
He smiles. “Come here. I want to cuddle with my girl.”
The clock strikesmidnight when I walk downstairs.
I needed to get away from Matt before I suffocated. He’s being the perfect fiancé, while I am a mess. He doesn’t deserve this version of me.
What kind of woman throws away a five-year-long relationship over a week with a man she had a silly crush on when she was younger?
I’m just confused.
All these crazy feelings will pass once I get my head on straight. Alexander will be nothing more than a sordid memory.
Stepping into the kitchen, I grab a glass of water.
A softthudscares me.
My hand trembles, and my back goes rigid when I hear footfalls coming down the hallway. A yearning and desperation like never before has my body turning around with a mind of its own, waiting for him to appear before me.
As if my soul is about to have its thirst quenched.
His shadow teases me a second before Alexander fills my line of sight. Every nerve in my body lights up, my pulse pounding harder.
I inhale sharply, making his head snap up in my direction.
He halts, still clad in his uniform. His blue eyes, dull and lacking their piercing intensity, clash with mine. They soften around the edges as they roam over my face, making him a million times more handsome.
As if he’s as powerless to our connection, he turns and steps into the light in the kitchen.
“Oh my god!” I cry out, running toward him as I see the bandage on his forehead. There’s another wrapped around his right palm. “What happened? Who hurt you?”
“A downside of the job, Molly,” he answers quietly. “I’m fine.”
I lift his wrist, tearing up at the blood that has soaked through the bandage. Tilting my head, I cup his jaw, dark with stubble. Caressing his angular cheek, I murmur, “Please tell me you aren’t hurt anywhere else.”
“Why?” His tone is hard and accusing. “Are you going to fix it? Make it stop hurting? While you’re at it, how about you fix my broken heart? It is what’s killing me slowly.”
“A-Alex,” I hiccup.
“You want to know what hurts?” Seizing my left wrist, he flashes my engagement ring in my face. “This. Seeing his ring on your finger. It’s tearing me apart.”
“I-I’m sorry-y.”
“Why him, Molly?”
“Because if I say yes to you, then I’m no different than my father.” The deep-seated truth pours out of my mouth. “I saw what his walking out on us did to my mother. It took years for her to let someone in and fall in love again. Matt is a good man. I can’t break his heart. Nor do I want to damage your relationship with him more than I already have.”
“Oh, little bird,” murmurs Alexander, his anger thawing as he bundles me against his chest. “You’re nothing like your father.”
I sob, wetting his shirt.
