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“So, which are you?”
“Dry and goes down easy? Or full-bodied . . .” He wet his lips. “With an aftertaste that sticks on my tongue.”
“Olivia,” he said softly. “I’m desperate to know you.”
His eyes on me made everything in my life feel like it belonged to another woman. As if I’d been playing a role, biding my time until he would come along. With him, there was a connection I couldn’t explain—the feeling of being wanted, loved, desired.
“I am disappointed about one thing,” he said, ignoring me. “That I didn’t meet you first. If I had, all bets would be off.”
were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight unless I absolutely fucking had to. And if I did, no man would make the same mistake I did and presume you were single. Every person within a mile radius would know you were mine.”
“Maybe tonight, you’ll dream of someone new.”
He had a possessive side, and over someone who didn’t even remotely belong to him.
But just because you ignore the cracks doesn’t mean they don’t exist. This foundation you’re standing on? I had to repair it because the previous owner ignored the cracks too long and did extensive damage.”
“because when I saw you, I felt like . . . like I’d found something I’d been looking for. And life wouldn’t be so fucking unfair that it was already taken.”
Unforgiving hold. I was his in that moment. He’d claimed me in seconds.
“One day,” he said slowly, “I’m going to tell you, in detail too explicit for the moment, exactly how exquisite you look right now. I promise you that.”
“You have no idea what I’d do with you.”
“You’re made for me, Olivia. And I’m made for you. If you run away like you’re about to, you’ll always wonder what kind of love we could’ve had.”
“I will fight for you with zero regard for the destruction I leave behind. It will make the war over Helen of Troy look like a child’s game. That’s why I can’t come tonight,” he said, “unless you look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t want me. And you fucking mean it.”
“Your beauty comes from something inside you. I took one look at you at the ballet, and your eyes told me a story. You were alone. You were desperate, as was I. Your vulnerability struck something deep in me.”
“Even gentlemen like to fuck.”
“Come inside and spend the night with me,” he said. “And when the sun rises, stay.” His angular jaw sharpened with resolve. “I want what he has. All of you. All to myself.”
“Show me you care, Olivia,” he breathed. “I need it. I need you.”
“Show me, Olivia. I need you. Only you.”
“Choose me,” he said. “Walk through that door, and I promise I’ll spend every minute, every hour, every day proving you made the right choice.”
“You think since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said hoarsely between kisses, taunting me with his finger, “that I haven’t wondered,”—he paused, rubbing me harder—“what it would feel like to be inside you?”
My walls molded around him, and heaven opened inside me. He was what I’d been missing all this time.
