Page 60 of Lust

It hurts that she would think this, but I can't blame her. I left and have barely said a word to her in three days. "So, no, I wasn't sleeping with anyone else. I had to leave because all I wanted was to ravage you. But leaving didn't do any good, it was no use, Clarissa. Damn... what have you done to me?"

And the dam wall breaks, and there's no holding back anymore.

I yank on her arms and crash her against me, my face burying in her neck, breathing her in.

Fuck.

I'm drunk on one breath.

"Matthias," my name comes out choked.

I curl one hand around the back of her neck and pull her against my mouth. She returns the kiss, crushing her lips against mine just as desperately.

My itch for her only grows.

I can think of nothing except how I never want this to end.

"God, Clarissa..." I moan against her mouth, her hair falling out of its bun and cascading over my hand, silken strands binding me to her.

"Oh, excuse me!"

The voice throws a bucket of cold water over us, and I look up to see Marika standing in her nightgown in the kitchen with us.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Baxter, I heard a sound, and I just thought I should check it out. Let me go grab the mop."

I hold up a hand to stop. "No, it's absolutely fine, Marika. I'm sorry we woke you. Go back to bed. I'll take care of it. It was just an accident."

She gives us a lingering look, making sure Clarissa is okay. It's a kind gesture that I will always remember. As soon as her back is turned, Clarissa tugs her hand out of mine and runs away, covering a sob with a hand over her mouth.

I'm left standing in my kitchen in the middle of the night, my cock so hard it's making me weep. I touch my hand to my bruised lips. This mouth that has taunted her, telling her I hate her, just begged her for more.

Go.

Matthias, go, for fuck's sake, what are you waiting for?

The image of her eyes thawing in that moment when I confessed what had really happened that other night, etches itself into my mind like a firebrand. And I know what I have to do.

Fuck it to hell.

I storm after her, running up the stairs, thinking about what I'll say when I see her.

She's at her bedroom door when I get there, stopping, her fingers touching her bruised lips just as I had seconds ago.

"Clarissa. My sweet little hellion." I whisper. "Don't torture me. Please. I can't take any more."

She holds her hand out to me and steps backward into the room, urging me to follow.

I'm almost scared to touch her, scared she'll catch fire on the fuel of my fantasies about her for the last ten days.

Our fingers grasp for each other's and I inch my hand higher and higher, until my fist is wrapped around her bicep even before I fully enter the room. I kick the door shut behind us and spin her around and press her against it.

In the fading moonlight, her mouth glistens as she runs her tongue along her bottom lip.

"God, Clarissa." I pull her toward me, nestling her against every inch of my body as I kiss her again.

Knowing that this time, I'm never going to stop.

Her bottom lip shakes, and I bite down on it, marking it.

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