Page 108 of The Obsession
I knew when he was teasing me by kissing, licking, biting, and sucking on my skin that I’d probably be left with marks, but I didn’t care. I was too lost in the way he was worshipping my body. Mick never took the time to get me to the point of explosion before he took me. At times, there was foreplay, but nothing like that.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, reaching up to skim my fingertips down his cheek, tracing the scar that mars his handsome face.
“It’s not,” he replies as his frown deepens. I open my mouth to assure him that what he did was incredibly hot and that I wouldn’t care if he left hickeys all over my body. But before the words leave my mouth, he tugs my T-shirt down, covering me up, then pushes to his feet like nothing profound just happened. “It’s getting late,” he says calmly.
I stare at him, completely blindsided, my brain struggling to catch up with the sudden shift.
Shock snaps through my body, and I bolt upright into a sitting position, my mouth falling open as I watch him casually turn and walk away … again.
What in the hell just happened?
He doesn’t even look back. He takes steady steps like he didn’t just leave me breathless and aching for more. Like he didn’t light the match and decide not to watch it burn.
I’m left sitting here, flushed and stunned, staring at his retreating back. How can he be so hot one second and as cold as ice the next?
Why doesn’t he want me to touch him or return the favour? It makes no sense.
“Dominic,” I manage to get out through a shaky voice.
He pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t turn around. “Good night, Emily,” he says as he continues moving again. A few seconds later, I hear his bedroom door slam shut.
I guess I’m a fool and have been reading too much into this. But even as I tell myself that, a spark of longing settles in my chest, refusing to let go.
I curl my knees to my chest, trying to calm my erratic heart as tears sting my eyes. Is this just a game for him? Why does he tease me like this? Why does he want me one second and then push me away the next? The questions swirl, and the ache in my chest is all too real.
Chapter 35
Dominic
Iflinch when my bedroom door slams behind me. I didn’t mean to close it so hard, but I needed to put some distance between us before I lost control and crossed a line I can’t take back. What the fuck was I thinking?
I’m starting to believe Emily Ashford is going to be my undoing. I brought her here to protect her and to let her heal, not to take advantage of her. And yet, the second she’s close, the second I get my hands on her, every ounce of restraint I’ve been clinging to shatters, leaving nothing but raw desire I can’t contain.
I left fucking marks on her for Christ’s sake. Seeing her pretty porcelain skin, red and purple from something I’d done in the heat of the moment, brought back images of all the bruises that bikie fucker left on her before I ended him.
The worst part is, I held back with her. I didn’t even give her my all, and that’s probably what scares me the most. She’s too fragile for a monster like me.
I reach down and grasp my rock-hard cock through the denim of my jeans and squeeze it in frustration. I’ve never wanted anything or anybody as much as I want her, but I can’t stop thinking about what she’s been through or thescars she carries that no one should ever leave on someone they claim to love.
Emily’s sweet, angelic, and everything I’m not. She deserves better than a man who struggles to keep his own desires in check, better than someone who will inevitably complicate her life instead of making it easier.
Every time I look at her, I feel the weight of what we have, but however intense those feelings are, they can only end in heartbreak. Sooner or later, she’ll see me for what I am, and when that happens, this spark between us will burn out, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake.
“Fuck,” I grunt out as I tilt my head towards the ceiling and scrub my hand down my face.
I can still smell her on my fingers, taste her on my tongue.
For one stupid moment, I gave in to my desires. I allowed myself to believe this was what she needed, but the truth is, I’m not even close.
I yank my T-shirt off in frustration and toss it across the room as I reach for the button on my jeans, heading towards my en suite.
I need to wash her off me, scrub away every trace, and stop fooling myself. I hope in the morning she’ll still be able to look me in the eye and somehow forgive me for what I did.
I don’t even bother to wait for the water to heat up as I step under the spray, hating myself more than I ever have before in my life.
A moment of passion, which I know for sure she at least enjoyed, has left me feeling like an absolute cunt, like I ruined something pure with my own selfishness.
My cock is still pulsing between my legs, but I ignore it. I can’t stop thinking about how her body reacted to my touch, the way her skin shivered under my hands, her fucking scent that clung to me, and all those sexy littlenoises she made that now only remind me of how badly I messed up.
