She shrugged like a child rather than a woman standing with pinpricked nipples in a sultry black dress.
I stepped toward her. My knees groaning under the weight of my self-control. “Answer the question. Just like you’ll answer all my questions tonight. Just like you’ll finally give into me and let me show you how lust should be.”
She tensed on the word but didn’t move away as I brushed aside a lock of hair and gathered the rest of her strands at the base of her neck. “Answer me.”
Slowly, her gaze grew soft and inviting. “Yes, I want you to.”
“Why?”
Her eyes flared then hooded again. “Because I need you to.”
“Because?”
Her forehead furrowed, unhappy at the test. “Because I want to be normal. I want to understand the heaviness you create inside me. I want—”
I sucked in a breath, waiting for her to continue. I glued my fucking feet to the floor, so I didn’t throw her on the bed and screw every damn rule to hell.
Her whisper barely met my ears. “I want to know what it’s like.”
“What what’s like? Sex?” I ate the word. I decimated the word. I butchered it until it was claw riddled and fang chewed, exactly like the salivating beast inside me.
She nodded quickly. “Sex with you. It has to be…it has to be different. Better than—”
I jerked her forward, crushing her to me.
I hadn’t meant to do that. I didn’t want her any closer than necessary. But once again, I couldn’t help myself when it came to Pim. Her complex blend of vulnerability and courage made me battle with monster and hero.
Her arms tentatively went around my waist, her heat and willowy frame slotting right against my hardness. Fuck, I wanted to squeeze her; to promise I’d never let her go. That she was safe when that was a lie. That she was mine when I couldn’t make that true. That she never had to fear me because that was the biggest untruth of all.
Loosening my hold, I vowed, “Sex between us will be unlike anything you’ve experienced. I promise.”
Sex between us would be unlike anything I’d experienced. And that was what terrified me. Petrified me that I’d become so goddamn addicted I’d forget to eat, breathe, and drink once I’d had her.
Her embrace unwound as she stepped away. “I’m sorry if I…disappoint you.” She shook her head, using her hair as a barricade. “I’m sure you’ll have had better—”
“What?” The roar fell from my lips before I could stop it.
She jumped, her face turning white as rage painted my features. “I, eh, I’m not stupid to think you’ve been with other—”
I couldn’t fucking do this anymore.
“Stop. Right now.” Pacing away, I took a drag on the slowly smoking joint. The thick cloud entered my lungs, stinging my tongue on the way out. “Do you know why I need this? Why I’ve only had to smoke since you’ve come into my life? That the last time I had to resort to such methods was three fucking years ago?”
She shook her head.
“It’s because of you. It’s because of how fucking much I want you. It’s because you tear me up inside. You do things to whatever sick and twisted heart I have left and make me crave things I don’t deserve.”
I stalked the suite, doing my best to shut the fuck up so I didn’t spill my entire rotten soul. “I can’t be in this hotel with you without this, do you get it? I can’t ask you to take off your dress without help, do you understand?”
I looked at the ceiling, cursing my very existence, the troubles I’d caused, the wrongs I’d done, the karma I’d painted myself with. “It’s you, no one else. Knowing that you’re going to let me get close to you. That you’ve forgiven me for taking you. That you have the strength to even entertain sleeping with me corrupts me so fucking much that just one kiss will break me.”
The pearls on Pim’s dress begged me to count them.
The fringe on her hem taunted me to arrange into ordered groups rather than the wild mess they currently were.
I stopped, forcing myself to look into her sorrow-filled, wise green eyes. With one glance, she sent me to damnation. “I’m this close to snapping, Pim, so don’t you fucking apologise for being the only woman to get under my goddamn skin, all right?”
The rage I’d fought for too long sprung into force. Throwing myself into a leather buttoned chair by the marble fireplace, I sucked deep on the joint, tapped the ash into a crystal tray, and pinned her with my stare. “Now, strip. Show me what you’re wearing under that dress.”
She gasped.
Her fingers leapt to her chest as if adding another layer of decency. She didn’t move to obey.
I took one last pull, sending red charcoal devouring the rest of my joint. When the heat singed my skin, I extinguished it, leant forward with my fingers clasped together between my legs, and threaded them tight to form a shackle—imprisoning myself so I didn’t reach out and touch her.
This part was for Pim.
Not me.
Everything about tonight had to remain about her.
The weed would help me keep that promise. It would let me focus on one thing and one thing only.
Her.
It would let me remain calm and not shatter out of my skin.
It would kill me, wound me, make me beg upon every genie lamp in Morocco to break my self-imposed ban, but I wouldn’t.
Because she needed to understand her own power.
To claim her own beauty.
To take possession of her own body.
Perhaps then, she’d be strong enough to bear me taking what I wanted.
With my fingers turning white and my heart racing a mile a second, I growled, “I won’t ask again, Pim. Strip. I want to see every inch of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
______________________________
Pim
HIS VOICE ricocheted inside my skull.
I want to see every inch of you.
See every inch.
It didn’t make sense.
He’d seen me. I’d been naked more often than clothed. He’d touched me, been inside me—he’d seen me.
Why ask as if he’d never seen a woman strip before? Why sit as far away from me as he could with his body vibrating and fingers turning blue-white from clenching so hard? Why try to dull his senses when his eyes smouldered with a thousand bonfires?
“Pim.”
The growl reached inside me, tugging on every heartstring and passionate nerve. I jumped, my hands crawling to my throat.
The same throat that still harboured recollections of rape and restraint and ravaging awful masters.
“Take off your dress.”
I forced my hands to drop down my body, refusing to let them bunch up and shield me. Hadn’t I asked for this? Hadn’t I pushed for this to happen?
Why then, when it was happening, was I absolutely petrified?
I dropped my gaze, fingering the fringe flapper dress. I never thought I’d trade the freedom of being naked with the claustrophobia of remaining dressed. But here I was, reluctant to move because his eyes burned me until I threatened to combust into fire.