Page 70 of Savage Princess

“You’ll go to stay with your sister and Niall, as arranged,” he says slowly. “They’ll be thrilled to have you—I know you must have missed her. You’ll be comfortable there; you can adjust back to…normal life.”

The way he says it, I know he understands how I feel. That the things I’ve seen and done since we left Mexico have changed me. That I’m not the same girl Diego took from my father’s house.

But I can also tell that it changes nothing, as far as he’s concerned.

Levin looks down at me, his expression taut, as if he’s not quite sure what to say. He stands there like that for several moments, the seconds punctuated by each thud of my pulse in my throat. Then he backs up, sinking onto the padded bench at the end of the bed.

He looks down at his hands, and seconds more pass. I can tell he’s trying to think of what to say.

I could make it easier on him. I could tell him that I already know what comes next. I could tell him that I understand. That I’ve always known it was coming to this, because he told me from the very beginning.

But I don’t want to make it easier. It’s not that I want to hurt him—I know now more than ever, after what Vasquez said, how much pain he’s endured. But selfishly, I want this to be as difficult for him as it is for me.

I want it to be hard for him to let me go.

“I’m going back to New York, once you’re safely with Isabella,” Levin says finally, looking up from his hands and up at me. “There’s no easier way to say it, Elena.”

I should sayI know.But my throat is closed up tight, and I can’t make the words come out.

His hands clasp together in front of him, and he bounces his arms lightly on his knees, sucking in a breath as if he’s trying to think of what to say. “I let things go further than I should have,” he says finally. “We’ve both enjoyed it—I can’t sit here and say that I haven’t. I’m not going to lie to you, Elena. I’ve been…happy with you. But this has to end when we get home. It has to.”

He says the last sentence with a firm authority that makes my soul sink to my toes, but I breathe in, trying to reach for what’s left. Trying to give myself something that I can hang onto, for just a little longer.

“You said it has to end when we get home,” I say softly, stepping towards him. Closing the space that I know he won’t close himself. “But we’re not home yet.”

I lean down, sinking onto my heels so I’m eye level with him, and I reach out, sliding my hands up his thighs. I feel the shudder that goes through him, the way he breathes in unsteadily, as if he’s fighting this—me…himself.

“Just one more night,” I whisper, fingers pressing against him. “One where you don’t pretend like you don’t want it, and you don’t fight this. Just let us be together for a night. The way it could be, if—”

I can’t finish the sentence.If things were different.Because deep down, I don’t feel like thingsneedto be different. I’d take Levin exactly as he is, in any life that we could have together. But I know he doesn’t think the same. He believes I deserve better.

And he’s not going to change his mind.

“Please,” I whisper. “Are you going to make me beg?” I reach for his hands, rubbing my fingers over the backs of them, and Levin looks up at me. There’s something in his eyes, an ache that spears me to my core, and I lean forward before I can think of whether it’s a good idea or not. Whether it will make him more likely to give in to me, or not.

I lean between his thighs, my hands still wrapped around his, and I press my lips against his mouth.

“Please,” I whisper again against his mouth. “One more night.”

I feel Levin breathe in. I feel the moment that he tries to find the will to tell me no, to put a stop to this now, before we’re even back in Boston. And then I hear the low groan that comes from deep down, the way his hands flex and clench around mine as he drags me up against him, and I know he’s given in.

He lifts me up, so I’m straddling him on the bench, the two of us pressed together as his hand slides around to my back, between my shoulder blades. He holds me tighter against him, his tongue sliding between my lips, tangling with mine, and he groans again as his hand moves up to grip the back of my neck.

“Elena—” he gasps my name against my mouth, his other hand going to my hip, dragging me down against his lap as his hips jerk upwards, and I can feel how hard he is. “I should tell you no—”

“Don’t,” I plead, rolling my hips against his, my hands cupping his face as I kiss him again, long and deep and slow. “Not tonight. Just let us be for tonight. What difference does one night make?”

Levin lets out a breath, pressing his forehead against mine. “You have no idea,” he says softly. But then he stands up, my legs going around his waist as he kisses me again and starts to walk towards the bathroom with me in his arms, and I know that he’s not going to tell me no.

He sets me down when we’re in the room, his fingers reaching for the buttons of my shirt as his lips brush against mine. He pulls them apart, one by one, his hands sliding under the fabric and skimming over my breasts as I reach for his belt, yanking it open with feverish urgency.

A part of me wants to go slowly. To savor it, if this really is the last time. And another part is so desperate for him that I can’t slow down.

Levin pushes the shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his fingers yanking at the buttons of my jeans. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips. “So fucking beautiful—”

I know that I’d never get tired of hearing that, no matter how long I live.

He turns to the huge tub in one corner of the room, as I kick off my shoes and curl my toes against the heated tiles. As he turns on the hot water, I step up behind him, pushing his shirt up as I run my hands over the muscled expanse of his back.

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