My cock throbbed in my pants, and yet I didn’t move a muscle. “But your father—”
“Left an hour ago. He told me not to expect him home for dinner, so I think we have all the time in the world.” Giselle took a step back from me, sweeping her blond hair to a single shoulder as she reached up and took off her necklace. She went to place it near the mirror on her boudoir, and then she slipped off that shiny ring, setting it beside the necklace.
That ring was a promise to Luca. Could I really… could we really do this? Touching another man’s soon-to-be wife was wrong, and yet, it was Giselle. It was her and me, just as it always should’ve been. Us.
As she turned to face me, I found myself asking, “Are you sure?” She always made a big deal about touching, always wearing her gloves. It was a miracle I’d gotten to kiss her before, but this… this would involve worlds more touching than that. Her bare skin on mine, her heat mingling with mine. Everything we were would come together and unite in the way we were always meant to.
“I thought you’d jump on the opportunity,” she said, starting to undo the buttons on her blouse. One by one she undid them, and button by button she revealed more skin to me. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d seen her without her clothes on, and yet it would be the first time we were truly alone. Helping her dress at the hospital… that was nothing.
This? This was everything.
My cock hardened as I watched her drop her shirt to the floor, exposing her bra to me. Her gorgeous chest and her flat stomach on full display, including the scab wound from her injury—the one I’d given her.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s…” What the fuck was I even saying? Why was I trying to stop this? Was it that guilt nestled deep within me, the thing I’d been trying so hard to stifle, to drown? Maybe. Maybe that guilt wasn’t something I could just get rid of. Maybe that fucking guilt would haunt me until the day I died.
Might be sooner rather than later. If Miguel ever found out I’d slept with his daughter, that I’d purposefully gone against him because of the feelings I had for her, he’d definitely put a bullet in my head himself.
“It’s…” Again, I tried to explain, but again, I fell short, both because I couldn’t put my past actions to words, couldn’t confess to her that I’d been the one who’d shot her, but also because she was in the process of undoing the button and zipper on her capris. And the moment they fell around her ankles, exposing her panties to me, my hands itched to get ahold of her.
Giselle cocked her head at me, stepping out of the pile of clothes around her feet, moving toward me like a snake. A beautiful, tempting serpent that I wanted nothing more than to snatch up in my hands and get to know every smooth curve. “You seem to be at a loss for words. That’s a first. You always have so much to say, especially about me.”
My eyes dropped to the scab on her stomach. No longer held back by bandages, it was on full display. “What about that?” I was certain my cock pressed against my pants, showing Giselle just how badly I wanted her. It was damn near the hardest thing I had to do, stand there and not rush toward her, sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bed, fuck her until Miguel came home.
“I’ll make do” was her answer.
“Giselle,” I warned her. “If we… if I—” Any other words in my throat got jumbled, and I stopped when I watched her walk up to me, a certain sway to her hips. Was this really happening? Had I fallen asleep and was dreaming this? That had to be the only explanation, because Giselle would never… she wouldn’t want to be with me. Not like this. “Your father will kill me.”
“He’ll try,” she whispered. Slowly, measuredly, she brought a hand to my chest, running it down my shirt. “He’ll try to kill you, but only if he finds out. Me, on the other hand…” As she spoke, something in me lurched. “I’m not so sure about me anymore.”
“What? What do you mean?” Did she know? Was this a test? Was I failing? Fuck.
She shook her head. “It’s nothing important. Not right now. Right now, it’s just you and me, so why don’t we just get the damned thing started, hmm?”
I doubted she’d want to be with me if she knew the whole truth. Maybe she suspected her father had something to do with it, but as for the whole truth, there was no way she knew. She wouldn’t be half-naked in front of me, coming onto me, if she knew.
Fuck. I wanted to tell her. I did, but in the face of the one thing I wanted above all else, what could I say? I was a weak, pathetic man. A weak, weak man who currently couldn’t think with anything other than the head between his legs.
“You drive me crazy, too. You bug the hell out of me, all alpha and possessive,” Giselle told me, leaning her body against mine. “I thought you were annoying for so long, and then… I don’t know. Then I just didn’t. Everything has changed for me, and I’m done pretending. I’m done letting the scars of the past dictate who I am today. I’m going to start taking what I want, and right now, I want you to shut the hell up and take off your clothes.” Her voice took on an authoritative tone, telling me she meant every single word.
Well, when she put it like that, how the fuck could I deny her?
Short answer: I couldn’t. And since I couldn’t, I worked on getting off my clothes faster than I ever had. My shirt took entirely too long, and everything below the waist… again, too long. I was more inept than ever as I undressed in front of Giselle, well aware she watched me with hunger in her eyes, the same desire she’d showed me right before we’d kissed in the past. It was a craving she must’ve been trained to keep buried; only now did she let it out.
This wouldn’t last forever. Of course it wouldn’t, because it couldn’t. Life was keen to keep us apart, so what would it matter if, just for this one moment, this one day, we were together in the way we both wanted?
The very moment I was free of all clothing, Giselle’s gaze ate me up. Those eyes traveled up and down my body, taking in the smooth planes of my chest and stomach, down to my rock-hard cock. She looked at me like I was a piece of meat, the very piece of meat she’d been longing for.
It was almost funny how I’d stormed in here with the intent of being upset with her. Now look at us. How everything had changed. When it came to Giselle, I couldn’t really stay upset for long. It wasn’t her fault that she was engaged to Luca; hell, she wasn’t very keen on him half the time, so I’d bet anything she was trying to find a way out of it. It was Miguel who was pushing for it to happen so fast, not her.
I didn’t hesitate any longer. I swept toward her, bringing my hands to her face and pulling her to me. My lips crashed down on hers, and I devoured every single moan she gave me as I nipped her bottom lip. As I held onto her face, I walked us toward her bed. I only broke away from her mouth to help her out of her bra and slide those panties down her hips and legs. It was a very mirrored position that I’d taken up with her at the hospital—except this was really happening, not just in my head.
After grabbing the bag I’d brought her and shoving it to the floor, I helped Giselle onto the bed, crawling up over her once she was comfortable. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was fucking perfect in every single way. Every part of her body was flawless, minus that scab.
That fucking scab. My heart ached when I saw it, and I wished I could come clean to her, tell her everything. It was my worst secret, and I knew it would haunt me until the end of my days.
My hands found her tits, pawing at them, cupping them, caressing them. She moaned when I tweaked her nipples, and I lowered my mouth to hers once more, swallowing them up. I didn’t let my body press down upon hers too hard; I didn’t want to hurt her. Instead, I focused on the taste of her lips on mine, how she made me feel so alive.
God, I couldn’t get enough of her.