Nervosa came in a little bit late. He sat down beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head against him and cried, sobbing hard, for my mother, and myself, and my brother. But not for my father, or for my grandfather. They could remain dead and rotting in Hell for all I cared.
“Are you okay?” he asked once I calmed down.
“I think so.” I wiped my face and laughed. “I think I’ve cried more around you than I’ve ever cried in my whole life.”
“I have that effect on women.”
“Charming.”
He grinned and touched my cheek. “You don’t have to worry. I love you, Melanie.”
The words hit me like a thunderclap. I stared, my mouth open. I knew it was true deep in my heart, knew he’d loved me since the moment we first met on campus, but hearing the words—it made something inside of me blossom and swell.
“I love you too,” I said and he kissed me long and hard right there in my kitchen in my childhood home.
We broke apart, but he kept holding me.
“She’ll find a way to forgive herself,” Nervosa said, looking toward the stairs.
“I hope so,” I said. “And I hope I can find a way to forgive myself, too.”
He hugged me tighter, holding me close.
Chapter 29
Melanie
Six Months Later
Summer break in Palo Alto.
I stood on Nervosa’s balcony overlooking the bay and breathed the fresh salty air deep. I stretched my back, letting out a soft groan. The sun rose an hour ago, and I’d only just woken up.
Stanford took a lot out of me. I thought fighting a minor war amongst Oligarchs and researching the dark, twisted past of my family was bad enough, but actually trying to get good grades took a hell of a lot more out of me. I suddenly understood why Sarah was sleeping in the library all the time. I thought college was so easy in those first couple months—because I didn’t care if I failed all my classes.
Fortunately, Sarah helped a lot. We took a few classes together the second semester and I settled on an economics major. I figured that would be helpful for Nervosa.
I heard something in the room behind me and turned as he came inside. He wiped his hair with a towel and grinned. He wore shorts and no shirt, and his body glistened with sweat, the tattoos dancing along his gorgeous skin.
“Good morning, darling,” he said, kissing me. He smelled like he just ran ten miles, and I loved it. “You’re up early.”
“And yet you were up even earlier. Why is that?”
“I hate sleeping the day away, and you don’t seem to mind.”
“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.”
“It’s not.” He kissed me gently. “I need a shower. Care to join me?”
“Gladly.”
He laughed and led me into the bathroom. He undressed, started the water, and I admired his beautiful body, the lean muscles, and the confident way he carried himself as if being naked was no different from wearing an expensive suit.
“I heard from my brother last night,” I said as he got into the large, walk-in shower. I stayed outside, still in my pajamas.
“What did he say?”
“Erin’s finished with the renovations. I asked him what she plans on making, but he was vague.”
“Same answers I’ve been getting, I’m sure.” He poked his head out. “Get your ass in here.”
“You’re just going to do something inappropriate if I do.”
“Yes, I am. Now come in.”
I sighed, but pulled off my top, stripped off my shorts, and obeyed.
Nervosa was two men. There was the vicious, ruthless, bloody Oligarch that controlled his family with a spiked fist, and there was the dominant, worshipful man that touched my skin and made me moan. I loved them both, but preferred one to the other, as his lips found my neck and he pinned me against the wall, spreading my legs, teasing my pussy.
I gave in. I always did. He knew my body better than I ever did, and managed to make me come in a shuddering, gasping moan with his lips and fingers before pressing me against the wall and fucking me senseless. He took his pleasure, his thick cock stroking in deep, and filled me up until I was barely more than a quivering, moaning mess.
As I came for the second time that day, it occurred to me that I’d never had so many orgasms in my life.
Afterward, we cleaned each other. It was like a ritual. He scrubbed my back, lathered me up, touching me gently and lovingly. Every inch of my body. He didn’t neglect anything. When we were done, he toweled me off, and I got dressed.
“I’ve been thinking about our problem.” He spoke so casually as he pulled on his clothes, like he hadn’t just ruined me and drowned me in pleasure five minutes ago.