“Baby,” I whispered, “I feel you. I feel the pain that lives in you, the pain that has shredded you and left scars all over your soul. I feel the passion you feel. I feel the anger you have at life. And I feel your struggle with the darkness.”
His breaths were coming hard and fast as he stood staring at me, taking in my words. I stepped even closer to him, skin to skin, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. My hands went to his chest and I slid them up and around his neck. Pulling his face down to mine, I kept kissing him until he opened his mouth and let me in. This kiss was unlike any we’d ever shared. Gentle and loving, there was none of the roughness we usually preferred. I moaned into his mouth as the sensations washed over me. The pleasure Donovan never failed to give me.
He fell into the kiss and his hands went around me and slid over my ass to cup my cheeks. I ground myself against him, and he lifted me into his arms. As my legs locked around him, he turned and walked us to the wall.
He broke the kiss and brought his hand to my neck. Rubbing his thumb over me, his gaze focused on my neck as he murmured, “How the fuck . . . ” His voice trailed off, leaving me confused again.
“How the fuck, what?” I asked him, puzzled.
His eyes flicked to mine. “How the fuck did I find you?”
I held my breath for a moment as the intensity in the air settled over me. “How the fuck did we find each other?”
He felt what I said; what the spaces in between my words held. I saw it written all over his face. “Fuck,” he muttered, and then his lips gave me the roughness I craved from him.
Our mouths and bodies moved together as we forgot the stuff holding our minds back and simply let what we felt in our hearts consume us. I clung to him and when he thrust inside me, I squeezed my legs tighter around him and moved my hips with his. He fucked me with the raw, animalistic passion that was Donovan.
That was us.
As he brought me to orgasm, I moaned and dug my nails into his back. And then he came, too, roaring out his release.
As he stilled, his head dropped, and he grunted words I couldn’t make out. He seemed to be lost somewhere within himself. I simply held him and gave him the space to work through whatever was running through his mind. Eventually, he lifted his head and looked at me. I stared back at him, waiting.
“Never again, baby,” he said, his voice hoarse.
My brows pulled together. “What?”
“If you’re angry at me, we work that shit out before I leave. Not gonna be away from you again when you’re mad at me.”
My stomach fluttered. “Okay,” I whispered.
“And in the future I won’t leave if we’ve got plans.”
This time my heart fluttered. “Good.”
We stayed like that for a couple more moments.
Silent.
And then he muttered, “Fuck.”
“What?”
He pulled out of me and let me down. “I fucked you without a condom.”
“I’m clean and on the pill.” I tried to reassure him.
“I’m clean, too.” He still seemed annoyed, though.
“It felt good, baby.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, gruffly. “But I won’t lose control like that again, I promise.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him to me. “It’s okay to lose control, Donovan. You’re wound so tight with that control. Let it go, baby.”
He didn’t say anything, and then he left me to walk out of the room. I watched with a heavy heart. Something held him back, kept a part of him locked away from me, and I wanted to know what it was.
Chapter Eighteen
Blade
“Baby, stop.”
A hand landed on my arm and gently shook me awake. I sat bolt upright, my heart beating wildly in my chest, my breathing hard to get under control.
“Donovan,” Layla’s voice penetrated my thoughts, and I turned to look at her.
“Sorry,” I murmured as I scrubbed my hand over my face.
Fuck.
“Don’t apologise. You were having a bad dream.”
Fuck.
I pushed the bed covers off, moved off the bed and headed into the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I flicked the tap on and splashed water on my face. Jesus, I looked like shit today. When the fuck would this madness end?
I walked back into Layla’s room and picked up my clothes. As I began dressing, she left the bed and came to me.
“Are you leaving?” The disappointment in her voice was unmistakable.
I kept dressing and said, “Yeah, I’ve got stuff to take care of this morning.”
“Who’s Ashley?”
I froze.
My heart thumped in my chest.
I struggled for breath.
My eyes met hers, and my focus went in and out as I struggled to see through the haze.
“Fuck.” The word came from my mouth, but I heard it as if someone in the distance uttered it.
My past collided with my future and the torment I’d lived with for so long came rushing to the surface.
“Talk to me,” Layla whispered, and I heard the plea in her voice.
“She was my fiancé.”
Her eyes widened but she didn’t say anything.
“She died three years ago.” I forced the words out, hating the sound of them on my lips and the feel of them on my skin.
She still didn’t say anything. Just watched and waited.