Page 58 of The Loathing

Stolen glances. My heart thumps in my chest. I adored the way my skin prickled in goosebumps every time he said my name, it sounded like heaven slipping off his tongue.

When he walked me to my room I had to stop myself from pressing up on my tiptoes and kissing him, wanting to know what his lips would feel like on mine, would our kiss be electrifying? Or would it be hot and messy with teeth clashing when desire just gets too much so that the fire rips through my soul, leaving me as nothing but ashes.

I feel the heat blossoming between my thighs at the thoughts. I wish I were more experienced; I wish I had the confidence to take a shot and if he shot me down then at least I tried. But I would be humiliated if I done it now and he pushed me away.

I slowly pace over to my bed, my fingertips gliding over the soft bedding when my mind wanders to Titus once more. I have no idea what hold this man has over me so suddenly and I am not sure if I like it or not.

It’s as if I am in a chokehold that I didn’t want to be in.

But not in a bad way.

Climbing onto the bed, I feel my bud pulsing and I know I need to rid this feeling. Titus is all I see, my fingers graze softly up my bare thigh, my lemon summer dress hitched slightly round my waist as my fingers continue their slow and torturous decent up my thighs to the spot that I so desperately need touching. Finally reaching the apex of my thighs, my fingers delicately brush against the thin material of my underwear and my breath hitches, a shaky breath leaving me as I do it again, my eyes fluttering shut when I hear a loud knock on my bedroom door.

“Amora,” I hear Titus’ voice float through the room and my eyes widen.

“Coming!” I rush out as I jump from the bed.

Yeah you wish my subconscious hisses at me and I ignore the little bitch and pull on my bedroom door, Titus’ eyes move up to mine and I feel like my heart is jack hammering in my chest and I know for a fact that my cheeks are flaming red at the thought of what I was about to do before Titus knocked. He is wearing a sky-blue shirt with the two top buttons undone, his collar wide and I can see a glimpse of his glorious skin. His shirt is tucked into charcoal suit trousers, and he looks divine which makes my sex pulse a little more.

“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping into my room and placing his hand on my forehead. “You look a little warm,” he breathes, his eyes searching my face, but I just didn’t know what he was looking for.

“I’m fine,” I swallow, willing for the dryness in my mouth to disappear and ignoring the heat that flows through my blood from his touch. I go to move past him, but he steps back in front of me.

“Are you sure?” his brows furrow, slowly stepping back away from me and leaning against the door frame.

“Yes,” my tone has bite to it because the longer he stands here looking at me, the more I want his lips on mine, his hands in my hair as he shows me what it is like to be kissed.

“You’re agitated, has something happened?” he asks again, his hand moving closer as his fingers wrap around my hip and I ignore the singe from his fingers on my skin.

“No Titus, please, can we just go? You obviously came here for a reason…” exasperation consumes me and suddenly I can’t bear to be close to him. I am still reeling, and my senses are wired from being interrupted, my bud still pulsing as I squeeze my thighs together. My cheeks blush and I have no reason to let embarrassment suffocate me. He doesn’t know what I was about to do. He has no idea that I was laying, wide legged and ready to pleasure myself just mere moments ago over thoughts of him.

“Dinner,” his voice is low as his breath breezes over my face, and I don’t miss the smell of bourbon.

I nod, rendered speechless so it’s all I can manage. Titus moves to the side, letting me pass him and I keep my head down as we walk in silence towards the grand dining room.

“I only wanted to check if you were okay…” his voice is low as he walks beside me.

“And I told you that I am, so stop asking me.” I snap my head up to look at him, willing for him to stop asking me.

He doesn’t respond, just inhales deeply. We still for a moment outside the dining room when I feel his fingers brush against me and I flinch, my brain is screaming for me to pull my hand away, but I don’t. I keep it where it is and enjoy the buzz of electricity that courses through me from his grazing fingertips.

“I am always here Amora; my loyalty lies with you. I made a promise to you, and I will honor that promise until I am sent away.”

My breath catches in the back of my throat, my heart is galloping in my chest, forming a fast but steady beat and I am worried that he can see just how fast it is beating under my skin.

“I know,” I just about manage before the dining room door is opened and Titus’ fingers move from mine and slip inside his suit trouser pockets. My eyes scope the room and see my family sitting there, all their eyes on me.

Father. Mother. Xander. Ezekiel.

I swallow the lump down, stepping into the room and nodding at Christopher as I do. Christopher has worked for us since way before I was born. From what I have heard, he and my mother used to date in secret until my father came along and put a stop to that and as punishment for the both of them, Christopher was to work under my father, so he had to see my mother every single day.

Cruel, cruel bastard.

But Christopher got his happily ever after with Mabel, one of the kitchen hands. Her family lived in the cottage on the grounds but once her and Christopher were married, they moved just outside the grounds to raise a family.

My chair is pulled out for me, and I sit gracefully, and Titus is gestured to sit opposite me, but he declines, pulling the chair out beside me and sitting down.

“Evening,” my father’s gruff, deep voice fills the room and I give him a small smile. “How are you my angel?”

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