These Vile Secrets (Enclave, #1)

by C.E. Ricci

"I think I’ve heard you laugh more tonight than you probably have in your entire life." "Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Who the hell are you, Hale Calloway?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine softly.

But the way he asks? Fuck, it makes me want to figure out who I am, if only to tell him the truth.

"Your favorite pain in your ass."

"Favorite and only," I whisper before slipping my tongue into his mouth to stop all talking entirely. Instead we become a mess of pants and moans as we battle for control over the other.

"Hale. Come home with me. Spend the night with me. At my place. In a bed. You and me."

"What are you so afraid of?" You. Everything about you terrifies me.

"Walls are built for a reason, Rome. To be impenetrable. To keep people out." To keep what's inside safe. His eyes search mine again, a sad smile in them. "Good thing I know how to climb."

"Babe?" My eyes blink open slowly. "Mmm?" "Babe. Can you toss me the expense and revenue reports for Novafi?”

"What’s wrong?" "Babe?" I ask. He smirks, humor dancing in his cobalt blues. "Well, baby is your thing so…"

"I'm terrified…because I wish I was the one who killed them for you."

"You would kill someone for me?" I bite the inside of my cheek and nod again. "It's so fucking stupid. But I’m starting to see I’d do...a lot for you."

"Yeah, Rome. You are. One of the few I've ever made. By far the best. Always my favorite. You're the one mistake I want to keep making over and over again, praying I never learn my lesson."

My every waking thought and desire is aimed at him. About him. For him. With him.

I never want to feel that kind of pain. Loss-of-a-limb pain. Missing-parts-of-a-whole pain. I’d-rather-die-than-be-without-you pain.

“I’m starting to think there isn’t a thing in this world I wouldn’t do for you.”

"Look, you don't have to sleep in here. There are plenty of guest rooms and—" "I'm not sleeping anywhere but next to you,"

In its place is nothing but need and want and desperation to have him. Or for him to have me again.

want him to know it all, even if it means losing him in the process. But I can't.

It's consumed my entire being, which only makes sense, because so has he. He consumes all I am.

Touching something no one has but him. And I swear on my life, no one else ever will.

I wish it worked that way. I want his love to heal my scars.

I want him to want me, need me, ache for, and desire me the way I do him. The way that only seems to come with that stupid four-letter word.

"You're every sinful thought I've ever had come to life. Molded into a body meant to be worshipped."

I've never felt so full. Of life. Of love. Of him.

"I never knew I had the power to melt ice with a single touch," he whispers against my lips, reverence and awe in his voice.

"Melt. Shatter," I tell him, the pain in my chest growing to nearly insurmountable now. "Completely obliterate."

He watches me take his ass through the mirror, sees me prove he belongs to me and me alone.

I think that's what I love about him the most, the way he looks at me. Like I mean something. Like this—us—means something.

His fingers trail down my sternum. "You want what, baby?"

"I want you against me," I whisper. "I want to touch you. Always. Constantly. I want your skin on mine, my lips glued to yours. And I don't give a shit what I'd have to give up to make that happen."

Like his world begins and ends with me.

"Rome." I sigh, and his name comes out the same. Worshiping. Adoring. Loving.

"Do you not think I understand what you're saying?" His eyes are filled with hurt, his tone broken glass. "Do you think I don't feel whatever this is too?"

I bite my lip and stay silent, locked in a war with what my mind tells me I shouldn't say and what my heart is beggin...

"You’re everything, Hale. Because you're good and fair and kind, even when you don't think you are. Because when I look at you? I see the kind of person worthy of my time and attention, knowing you would never bother to accept it unless you thought it was earned."

No one ever wants me. Until you."

So when you say you want me? I know you mean me. Roman. The person. The human being, the flesh and blood sitting right here,"

You don't even see those things when you look at me, not anymore. Not now, after all this. And no one, fucking no one in the world can say the same."

The way he closes his eyes and leans into my touch sets my soul on fire, even with this massive declaration hanging between us.

Roman's heart, once he lets someone see it in its true form, is massive.

He’ll do anything for someone he cares about. And despite all logic and reasoning, he cares for me.

His lips trail over my chest, anywhere he can reach from where he is. Sweet, loving kisses that brush over my skin and make my heart pound in my chest.

"I've been alone for most of my life," I whisper, biting my bottom lip as I look down at him. "Practically all of it. That I can remember, at least." "You're not anymore," he murmurs, now brushing his lips over mine. "You're not alone anymore, baby."

and it's then I realize I was right earlier. He has the power to heal my scars. Both the physical and the ones not visible to the eye.

"Don't you know by now? I like everything to be hard."

“She might’ve only been four, but I loved her. I loved her so fucking much, it actually hurt.”

“I meant it when I said I’d kill the person who did that to you. And mark my fucking words, Hale. If his name is ever confirmed, he’s as good as dead.”

“You might not be a kid anymore, but now you have something else you can add to that list of constants.”

I smile through my confusion. “The scar?”