Page 118 of Retribution

His voice vibrates through my body, causing my temperature to spike.

He pulls on the glass slightly and I let out a cry, that sounds more like a moan. The fire rises to my cheeks and I try to turn away but with him holding my hand still, I’m restricted.

The proximity of him is delivering signals to all of the traitorous parts of my body, the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I try and squash the thoughts.

“What are we going to do with you, my love.”

I swear my eyes roll to the back of my head. He knows exactly what he is doing, he knows the effect he has on me, and it’s working.

He drops my hand and grabs two of the cloth napkins, handing one to me and keeping hold of one.

“Bite down on this, it’s going to hurt, but only for a moment,” his voice is lined with seduction and I can’t help but rub my thighs together, to give myself some sort of relief under his gaze.

I do as he says and place the napkin in my mouth, he winks.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

He returns his attention to my hand and looks up at me one more time through his fluttering eyelashes.

“You ready?”

Harry you dirty little minx.

He’s messing with me badly and he knows it by the huge smirk plastered across his face. I almost feel like he planted the glass there on purpose.

“Three…Two…One…” He counts down.

I bite down hard on the napkin as he pulls the piece from my hand, the pain slicing through me thinly, but sharp. The blood pools a little, dripping onto his white shirt as he takes the cloth napkin, wrapping it firmly around my hand.

“See, it wasn’t too bad was it?”

I roll my eyes at him and snatch my hand back, anxious that if he holds onto it for any longer, I’m going to end up giving myself an orgasm from the amount I keep rubbing my thighs together.

He returns to his seat as the server brings over another bottle of wine with the new glass. The burden washes over us again as he takes a sip from his fresh glass. His jaw pulses as he sets it back down.

“So, you’re staying, huh?”

“Yeah.” I breathe, unsure why it feels shameful to admit it to him.

He nods and takes a bite of his food, his chewing seems exaggerated. His hand taps on the table rhythmically and I shovel a forkful of pasta into my mouth.

“Do you love him?” he asks in a plain voice.

He stares at me closely for my answer.

I chew my pasta trying to bide my time because I want to spare him the pain of the truth, knowing he’s not going to like it. I can’t quite explain what is between me and Harry, it’s different to anything I’ve ever experienced before. With Reed, my love with him is so obvious and so overpowering that it’s undeniable.

But this, with Harry is something else. It’s something that feels freeing, it feels fun and exciting, but it doesn’t feel like love, no. It’s like an emotion that hasn’t been invented yet, there is no way to describe how it is I feel towards him.

Harry is exactly the guy I’d date, he is my type, he is sweet, caring and harmless. But, it isn’t enough for me to put myself on the line, Reed is and will always be the one I love.

“I do.”

He shakes his head slowly, looking up at the ceiling and then back down at his lap. He looks at me and then to the window and the outside world, and then back to me. He swallows deeply, his Adam’s apple bobs from the action.

“Does he love you?”

He can’t keep his eyes focused on me anymore.

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