Page 18 of Savage Love

“Elena.” This time Icanread the emotion in his eyes. It’s sympathy, and I hate it more than I’ve hated indifference or frustration or anything else he’s ever felt toward me that I didn’t like. “It hasalwaysbeen between us. It’s been between me and every woman I’ve met for the last twelve years.”

Tears burn in my eyes again, because I can hear what I think are unspoken words—you’re not different. You’re not special. You’re not going to change that.He doesn’t say them, and I can’t even be sure that he’s thinking them, but it’s whatIthink, what comes into my head as I look up at him, and it hurts so much that for a moment, I feel like I can’t breathe.

I’m in love with him. If I had ever wondered whether or not I was before, I know now. I love him, and I want him; I can see that marriage or no marriage, he’s going to keep his distance. This wedding is, plain and simple, because he believes it’s the right thing to do, and for no other reason.

I have to live with that—and I honestly don’t know how I can.

—

Levin spends the night at the house this time, evidently on account of the fact that we’re now engaged. Niall felt that it would be horribly rude to expect him to get a hotel, which Isabella reluctantly agreed to. There’s no question of us staying in the same room, which leaves me lying awake in my bed yet again, staring up at the ceiling and missing him next to me with a palpable ache.

Will we sleep in the same bed after we’re married? Or is he going to want to have separate rooms?The thought of that makes me feel like breaking down into tears all over again, the prospect of years and years of a marriage where I don’t even sleep in the same bed as my husband. It makes me realize, more than ever, that I really don’t know what this looks like for Levin. He keeps telling me that he’ll do whatever I want, whatever makes me happy—but when it comes down to it, the things I want are the things he can’t give me.

I get up after a little while, padding softly down the hall towards the bathroom, considering a hot shower in the hopes that it might enable me to sleep. I walk past the guest room where Levin is sleeping, expecting to hear light snoring, but instead, I hear a low groan that stops me in my tracks.

Arousal floods me instantly, and my thighs squeeze together. I know that sound and what it means—I’ve heard Levin groan in my ear in exactly that way before, night after night. My pulse leaps into my throat, my skin heating, and all I can think of is how much I want to be in bed with him, hearing that groan as he slides into me, filling me up again after what feels like an interminable amount of time without him.

It’s been a month, and it feels like six. More, even. I want him in a way that feels like a physical ache, and I gently push the door open a crack, wincing as I wait for a creak that will give me away.

There’s no sound, and as I peer around into the room, Levin is too occupied to notice the door opening. The sight in front of me makes my thighs clench together all over again, a wave of arousal soaking the thin cotton of the shorts I wore to sleep in, causing them to cling to my skin.

The blankets are pushed down around his thighs, and he’s in only his boxers, his muscled and tattooed chest bare in the sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains. He freed his cock at some point, sliding it out through the fly of his boxers, and his hand is wrapped around it, sliding up and down the straining length as his head tips back, his jaw tight.

He’s thinking of me.I know he must be, and the idea of it makes my heart race in my chest, until I feel like I can’t breathe, weak-kneed with desire. The thought of Levin lying in bed, his cock swollen and hard as he thought of me a few doors down, wanting me the same way I had been lying there wanting him, so badly that he had no choice but to slide his cock out and stroke it himself, wishing it was my hand or mouth or—

It could be. I know I should go back to my room, that if Levin really were going to take me up on any kind of offer, he would have come down the hall to me, knowing that I always want him. I know I’m only setting myself up for disappointment, but that thought doesn’t seem to register in time to stop my feet from propelling me into the room, my heart pounding as I push the door closed behind me and start to pad towards the bed.

Levin freezes, his hand stuttering on his cock, his eyes snapping open as he stares at me. For one brief second, I’m treated to the sight of him stunned and still, his gorgeous cock held tightly in his hand and almost all of him bared to my view—and then he snatches the blankets up, letting go of himself as he sits up halfway, his forehead creased.

“Elena, what the hell are you doing?”

It’s not unlike the night I caught him on the beach, before we ever slept together. He’d been upset at me then, too–but the difference now is that we’ve had sex. I’m not a virgin any longer, and we’re going to be married. It feels ridiculous to pretend that we need to be chaste.

“I was–in the hall, and I heard you, and—”

“And you thought it was a perfectly fine idea to just walk in?” He sounds almost outraged, and I blink at him, feeling off-balance.

“I thought—”you might want help.I can’t say it aloud. It sounds small and foolish to me now, standing here like this, with him looking at me as if he can’t believe I ever had a train of thought that led me to think walking in here was a good idea. Now, in this situation, I’m having a hard time believing it too.

And that makesmefeel upset, because this isn’t the kind of marriage I want. I know that for sure.

“When I caught you like this on the beach, we hadn’t slept together yet,” I tell him, swallowing back the lump in my throat. “So I get it–why you were so upset. You were trying not to touch me–to take care of it yourself. But Levin, this is ridiculous.”

“What is?” He frowns at me. “It’s normal for men to jerk off, Elena. I know you don’t have a lot of experience, but—”

“No–I know that. But—I was right down the hall.”

“Sleeping, I thought,” he points out. “I was hardly going to come wake you up. And besides—we’re not doing this, Elena.”

“At all?” I stare at him. “I mean it, Levin—this is ridiculous! I get not wanting to wake me up, but then being upset at me for coming into your room? I’m literally pregnant. What is the point of us not touching each other? That ship has sailed.”

Levin lets out a sharp, frustrated breath. I’m sure it has no little part to do with the fact that I interrupted him, leaving him hard and probably close to the edge, but right now, I can’t find it within myself to care all that much. “That will only make things more complicated,” he says finally. “I’m trying to make thislessso—”

I can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. “So you’re just going to jerk off for the rest of your life when you have a perfectly willing wife?” Aloud, the words sound absolutely insane coming out of my mouth, and I hope he can hear it too. But instead, his face just settles into stubborn, irritated lines, and I can tell that it’s only made things worse.

Is this our first real fight?

“This marriage is about raising our child together,” Levin tells me firmly. “That’sallit’s about, Elena. Our child, and doing right by you and them. Nothing else comes into play. I thought you understood that already, but if not—”

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