Page 62 of Crowning His Innocent Assistant

And so he lost himself. In her. In the softness of her touch. And everything she gave.

And he took.

Greedily. Drank from her mouth, lost himself in her body. And when he thrust deep within her, she let out a gasp. “I love you.”

It washed over him like a warm wave. And he could feel it, reaching the parched places of his soul. Could feel how desperate he was.

No.

He could not accept it. He could not.

“I love you,” she whispered again as he thrust back inside her. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Like the counting off in their dance lesson. Steady and insistent and filled with all the need that he had tried to deny all these years.

He could feel that weakness. Shifting, eroding inside of him.

And suddenly, he felt like a boy. Enduring torture.

But not the kind his father had given out. No. This was like having a cherished dream held out in front of him, only to have it be just out of reach.

Then, he could no longer think. Then, there was nothing but the white-hot pleasure that erupted inside of him, and she cried out as he spilled himself inside of her, as she pulsed around him. And then he worked to harden himself, to go back to what he was.

For a moment, he had her and that would have to be enough. It would have to be, because it was all he could allow.

Livia was his. And she would be as she had been in the ballroom. His conscience. And she would love him.

I was never your mouse...

He shut that out, and he held her close.

Because she was. Whatever she said.

And he would allow no other reality to encroach.

For he decided what it was.

And he was set in this.

And so, it would be.

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