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She opens her sea-green eyes, and my heart splits in half at the tears swimming in them.

“You’re doing good,” I tell her quietly. “Just keep looking right at me.” I grab one of her hands, lace my fingers with hers, and set them on her lap.

She inhales and lets it out slowly, struggling to regain control. This woman is so strong, I have no doubt she can overcome this.

Fifteen minutes pass, neither of us looking away from the other, before she finally starts to relax. The panic and fear slowly leave her face. The buzz of the machine fades into the background. She runs her tongue over her lips, and my eyes unconsciously follow the movement. There’s a light sheen left behind, and I want nothing more than to lick it away. It’s an impulse that’s getting increasingly difficult to deny.

Since that day in the shower, I’ve caught myself multiple times staring at her lips, wondering if she’d taste the same as she did the first time we kissed. Then my mind wanders to something deeper, more explicit. Like how her skin would feel under my hands. Or how her naked body would feel pressed against my own naked body. Would she be as soft as she appears? Would she smell like peaches and cream everywhere? What would she taste like if I traced my tongue over every part of her beautiful body? Shame and disgust at myself heats my blood when I remember all the times over the past week that I’ve nearly given in to my need to find out the answers to those questions.

Rella’s breath quickens and her pupils dilate. Something tells me the change in her isn’t from fear of Taza touching her or the pain of the tiny needles constantly piercing her skin. My heart rate picks up, and so does my need to feel her lips against mine again.

Fuck me sideways, backwards, and every way in between. Temptation isn’t something I normally feel. It never gets to that point because if I want something, I take it. But I can’t take Rella. She’s not mine, and I sure as shit don’t deserve her.

I try my best to ignore the fact that her shirt has risen up in the front and is tucked underneath her breasts, unveiling her smooth and trim stomach.

She licks her lips again, and damn it to hell, but it only ramps up my need.

“Rella….” My voice is a hoarse whisper. It’s both a warning and a plea.

“Kiss me,” she says back, just as low.

I swallow down the thick lump in my throat and force out the words I wish I didn’t have to say. “I can’t.”

Sadness enters her eyes, replacing the sensual look of before. She nods, dropping her head so I can no longer see her eyes, taking away the light in my ominous and dreary world. I don’t want to recede back into the darkness. I want to hold on to the light forever and never let it go.

I lift her head again. “You kill me with these sad eyes,” I say, gently swiping my thumb over her cheekbone.

She smiles, but it’s not a happy one. “Sorry.”

I hate that word coming off her lips. As if she ever has anything to be sorry about.

Well aware of Taza working on Rella’s back, I decide to give into the incessant need coursing through me. If I was honest with myself, I’d have recognized it was inevitable anyway. I don’t have a chance in hell of denying Rella anything, even if it’ll damn me forever.

Leaning forward so Rella doesn’t have to move, I slowly bring my face closer. Her mouth parts, her breaths turning into little pants. I brush my lips faintly across hers. She releases a sigh at the same time a deep rumbling groan leaves my throat. We’re barely touching and it’s already the best feeling in the world.

I flick out my tongue and let it run over her bottom lip, just how I wanted to do earlier. She tastes like an oasis to my dehydrated body. I could live off the taste of her for the rest of my life.

I scoot forward in my seat, needing to be closer. Using the hand still cupped around her cheek, I easily tilt her head to the side, then slip my tongue past her beautifully waiting lips. She meets me halfway. I know in the back of my head this is wrong, and I should pull away, but it feels so damn good and right. I’m not ready to give it up yet.

Her breath hitches, and her small moan vibrates into my mouth. My cock hardens uncomfortably in my jeans, begging to be let out.

I’d give anything to not be who I am, to be the person Rella needs.

“’Less you want this design to come out all kinds of fucked-up, I suggest you hold off on making out until I’m done.”

Taza’s words knock me back to reality, and I pull back from Rella’s mesmerizing lips. I rest my forehead against hers, pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, trying and failing to calm the raging hormones running through me. I run my eyes all over her face, glad to see her cheeks are flushed a pretty red instead of the ghostly pale she was earlier.

Things shouldn’t have gone as far as they did. It was only meant to be a simple kiss to distract her and to satisfy my craving. But I’m finding it difficult to feel regret. She claimed the kiss in the shower was perfect, and it was, but this one was beyond that. I don’t know what word would mean beyond perfect, but whatever it is, it’s that. How can someone regret something like that?

She blows out a slow breath, her lips tipping up into a faint smile. The look quickly becomes one of my favorites.

We spend the next few hours locked in each other’s gazes. Most of the time, the only sound in the room is the buzz of the tattoo machine. We take a couple of breaks to stretch our legs, but that’s it. Rella seems to be impatient to get it done in one sitting. She doesn’t flinch or twitch at all as Taza marks up her back.

By the time he’s done, my back is killing me from hunching over. Rella wanted to be close to me, and since she can’t move around, it was left up to me to bring myself closer to her.

Taza applies a thin coat of ointment on her back, and while he’s packing up his equipment, I grab her hand and pull her down the hallway to my bedroom where there’s a full-length mirror. I haven’t seen the finished design yet; I want us both to see it together.

I stop in front of the mirror and turn her back to it. Before she can turn to look, I grab her shirt that’s still on her shoulders and look down at her.


Tags: Alex Grayson Hell Night Romance