Page 76 of The Hate We Breathe
Because she’s mine and I know exactly how to prove it to her.
28
JULIET
Nolan moves in as the glow of the computer begins to flash. I glance around him, frowning when it goes dark and a bunch of green and blue letters begin typing across the screen in rapid fashion. Then, Nolan’s words catch up with me.
I’ve killed for you before… and I’d do it all over again. You’re everything to me, Princess.
My gaze snaps to his face, half hidden in the shadow of the room. A shiver steals down my spine and I back up a step, putting my hand out as a spell of dizziness assails me. Being back in this house isn’t good for my mental stability and I’m glad we’re almost done, but Nolan stalking me through Morpheus’ office is making my heart race.
“Nolan?” His name comes out as a whisper in the dark.
“Come here,” he urges, his voice low, but no less strong for its volume.
Confused, but trusting, I let him take my wrist and pull me closer to the desk. “Do you trust me?” he asks as he pushes me back against it and plasters himself to my front.
“Of course I do,” I say. “But?—”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger over my lips, halting me from speaking further. “That’s all I need, Jules. If you trust me, thentrust that I know what you need right now. Can you do that for me?”
I could walk across a river of fire for him if he asked. Remaining quiet and letting him distract me from the ugly emotions and memories of our location is nothing. I nod my head, remaining quiet as his finger trails back and forth across my lower lip.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Me.Never before have those two words been so much of a fucking turn-on. Nolan stands before me, blocking out most of the room with his bulky frame. His rich, masculine scent tinged by the slightest hint of sweat eats away at my anxiety as he consumes all of my attention, all of my senses.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders.
My eyes widen, but my hands go to the hem of my shirt and I drag it up my body and off my chest, tossing it to the ground. Nolan’s fingers trail lower to my throat and I swallow roughly, wondering just what he’s planning. When his knuckles graze my right breast, just above the cup of my bra, I inhale sharply—automatically thrusting my chest out farther as a whimper builds inside of my throat.
His chuckle is wicked and cruel. “I’m going to drive all thoughts of that fucker from your mind forever, Princess,” Nolan whispers to me, his voice silken danger. “Do you want to know how?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as my thighs squeeze tightly together, a wetness oozing into the gusset of my underwear with each second that ticks by. I glance past him to the closed—but not locked door. Stuart can’t find us in here, not if we want to get out of this place without any further suspicion.
“Juliet.” Nolan’s hand snaps to my face, gripping my chin and redirecting my attention back to him. “Are you losing focus?”
“I…” I swallow. “We shouldn’t start anything here,” I tell him. “Stuart could?—”
“Fuck that bastard,” Nolan cuts me off. “We should start something here because here is where you felt most trapped, isn’t it? In this house, by the man who dominated this space. Tell me.”
I nod. For the longest time, Morpheus had been the monster in my nightmares—hidden in shadow because I couldn’t accept that a man that I thought was my protector, my uncle, hurt me. I took the pills my mom gave me, drank whenever they didn’t work well enough, and drowned myself in bad friendships and relationships and nothing that mattered to hide from the truth. I was raped by Morpheus Calloway.
Maybe it didn’t happen in this house, but this house is where I was imprisoned by him. Threatened. Caged like a pretty bird for his pleasure alone.
My eyes slide shut as Nolan’s fingers release my chin and move back down. His free hand goes around my back and my bra loosens in the next second. I don’t open my eyes as he gently takes the straps and lowers them down my arms. Cold air hits my nipples and they tighten, pebbling into hard little points. My pussy floods with arousal. My breaths come in fast, short pants.
“Imagine him right now,” Nolan growls, his voice sounding more animal than human. “Imagine his ghost sitting in that chair behind you, watching you with me. Know that no matter what he took before, he can never have you. You don’t belong to him. You never did.”
I gasp, eyes flying wide as he turns me, spinning me to face the desk and the windows overlooking the gardens of the Calloway mansion. Nolan unbuttons my jeans and slides the zipper down before tugging the fabric over my hips, down my legs.
“Bend over.”
Harsh, rapid breathing echoes between us as I follow the command. Placing my hands flat on the desk, I lower myself until I’m lying right next to the computer we came for. I know I should remind him about the mission, but I’m too caught up in what my body is feeling, in what he’s doing to me. My panties are tugged down next, but once they reach where my jeans are, pinning my knees together, Nolan doesn’t bother to pull them down any farther.
Big, firm hands grip my ass cheeks, squeezing them, holding them, smoothing over them. I tremble against the desktop when his fingers dip between my thighs and pause over my cunt.
“Fuck,” Nolan groans, drawing out the word. I feel his forehead pressed to my back as he bends over me. “You’re fucking soaked, Jules.”
