I took his hands and placed them back on my stomach, my bare stomach.
He let me.
I guided his right hand to my breast, slipping it under my bra until the rough palm of it pressed to my nipple.
He let me.
A gravelly groan rumbled his chest, and again he pressed his erection against my back as his hand squeezed my breast so hard I almost lost it from that one touch. Ronin’s breaths pulsed against my ear, and sometimes his lips would brush it, and I felt it everywhere.
“L-Lila …” He panted like a wounded animal.
“Tell me … tell me what to do.” My hand squeezed his hand that rested idle on my stomach. “Tell me how to make you feel better.”
I could have died right then, and Ronin’s touch would have lingered on my skin for a million eternities.
He couldn’t speak. His heart wouldn’t allow it. His deep love for Evelyn only intensified my desire for him. It made me want to give him my last breath.
When he didn’t utter another word, I guided his other hand under my panties, a half inch at a time. The muscles in his arms tensed, and he paused his hand before reaching the place I needed him to touch so badly no death could be worse than waiting for him to decide where we’d take it.
I inched my legs apart as far as they would go with his legs on each side, and I waited. He squeezed my nipple at the same time his hand moved on its own between my legs. Taking it slow, he made tiny circles over my clit with the pads of his fingers as he pistoled his hips against my back in the same slow rhythm as his fingers.
My hips lifted from the sofa, silently urging him to move his fingers down and inside of me, filling a void only he could fill. Erasing the intrusive trespassing of the man who, in all honesty, raped me the previous night.
Feeling completely out of my skin with need, I pushed his hand lower and moaned as the pad of his middle finger pressed to my entrance.
I wanted him inside of me so badly.
Before I could silence my need, he had me flipped onto my back, his shirt shrugged off. His jean-clad lower body wedged between my legs, thrusting against me, as his lips attacked my mouth and his hand shoved my bra up so my breasts pressed to his warm chest. Both of his hands gripped the arm of the sofa as he dry-humped me, the denim giving me so much friction I saw stars behind my closed eyes when I orgasmed.
Ronin’s moves were hard, almost violently so, and he yelled as he found his own release.
It brought instant tears to my eyes because he yelled her name.
Completely out of breath and sticky with sweat, Ronin collapsed onto me, tucking his face into my neck as his body started to shake.
He was crying. Ronin was crying.
“No. No. No …” His words destroyed me.
It reaffirmed what I knew in the deepest, darkest depths of my soul—I wanted to die. The pain would stop for me and Ronin. My time was near.
Something I mistook for reason whispered to my conscience, telling me to tell Ronin the truth about Evelyn and Graham. But I just couldn’t. Their fate wasn’t mine to decide. I let Ronin cheat on his wife of his own accord. I had to let fate take care of the truth in its own time.
I waited, emotionally preparing for him to climb off me and run out of the house without so much as a glance back. But he didn’t. Once his sobs subsided, he moved us so we were on our sides, hugging, legs intertwined … and then we slept.
Two hours later, I woke from a deep sleep all alone with a blanket covering my half naked body and no sign of Ronin.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Evelyn
Oh the nevers …
I never imagined falling in love at a bubble tea cafe in Vancouver.
I never imagined marrying a man after knowing him for only a few months.
I never imagined that man would cheat on me.
But more than all of those nevers put together and multiplied times infinity … I never imagined my best friend screwing my perfect husband.
The truth?
I didn’t know anything for sure. I just knew something in my gut caused me to leave my kids with Sue and have Sophie cover the shop while I followed my husband. Honestly, I imagined him driving to Adrianne’s apartment. I never imagined the trail would lead me all the way to Denver, to the Porter estate. Yet that was where it led me.
I waited outside of the gate, just down the street. I waited for three hours. And while my mind tried to play tricks on me, forcing me to think the unthinkable, I never truly imagined I’d peek through the gate three hours later and see him practically stumbling out the front door, pulling on his shirt and jacket and carrying his shoes.