I smile, though my eyes are glistening. “I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t, didn’t want, to love me. I understand that’s just a blood tie now, and I’m a responsibility. Nothing more. But I won’t apologize for growing up thinking I deserved his love or for growing up period, and the choices I’ve made doing it. In believing in it. Because…how can love be a mistake?” A warm tear runs down my face as I finally look up at him. “Even if it’s not enough, if it’s more trouble than it’s worth, if it does me more harm than good, even if everyone I give myself to denies me, I refuse to believe it’s a mistake.”
He stalks toward me, his eyes unwavering as I swallow, bracing myself for impact. “Sometimes…s-sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever grow up enough to know the difference between what I romanticize and what’s real.”
He reaches me, and I keep my eyes averted as another fast tear forms and falls.
“How do you do it, Tobias? How do you keep your heart out of it?”
He lifts my hand to cover his chest, and I lift my eyes to his. It’s in his gaze I see the same vulnerability and fear that shone in them the night he realized he’d damned us both.
“Please don’t do this to me,” I beg, knowing if this is another game, another mindfuck, I will not survive it.
He bends, so we’re eye level as his heart pounds against my palm.
“There’s something you need to know,” he swallows, his frame rattling as he covers my hand on his chest, the beat beneath quickening, smashing against my palm as if trying to break free.
“Your heart is not your weakness, Cecelia. It’s mine.”
Slowly, so slowly, he bends and presses his full lips to mine. And with this one act, the rest of my self-preservation ceases to exist.
Because of him, because of his kiss. A kiss just as raw, just as honest as it was last night, but far more meaningful than any other we’ve shared. I grip his wrists when he palms my face, tilting my head before he dives deeper. The burn starts behind my eyes as my innermost fear is realized, and I dive headfirst, living fully in the seconds and minutes that replace everything I thought I knew about love.
He explores my mouth with gentle licks, his tongue coaxing mine, drawing out a whimper.
My heart pounds in distinct beats as I rip myself away.
“Please—” He cuts off my plea with another searing kiss and another, and then another until my fears quiet.
He pulls my chin with his thumb, parting my mouth further, opening to me and licks in discovery as I wrap what I can of myself around him.
Slick with need, I squeeze my thighs together as he teases me, drawing me further into him. He does this over and over, dizzying me to the point of insanity. At his mercy, I wrap around him as he kisses me, and kisses me, his tongue sweeping me into this moment with him, erasing every line we’ve drawn. When he pulls back and gazes down at me with hooded eyes, it’s not lust that has me gasping.
It’s the truth he lets me see. No amount of lies or contradictory actions on his part can ever take this away. He dips again and takes my mouth, a confession on his tongue, and I meet him kissing him back, telling my own.
And it’s then I allow myself to fall, further and further into the biggest secret of my life. A secret I’ve known longer than I will ever admit.
I’m falling in love with my enemy.
So be it.
Our tongues tangle in the most erotic and passionate of dances. Eyes closed, I savor the affection and clutch him to me, drinking, consuming as he feeds my starving heart. He answers every question I’ve ever had, with each sure stroke of his tongue, and brush of his fingertips.
I don’t need words or promises. His kiss makes them irrelevant.
Hunger rumbles low, and with every thorough brush of his tongue, I become more ravenous to expose everything we’ve hidden beneath our thin veil of hate.
He bends lifting the hem of my sundress, and I extend my arms above my head and keep them raised as he pulls the material off, leaving me completely naked in the middle of the sun-soaked garden.
His eyes explore me from head to foot running fingers along my skin, his palms covering me in his reverent touch, an apology for all the violent touches before. A tear drips from my chin and he whisks it away with his tongue before sweeping me into his arms and setting me on the lounger. Wordlessly, he pulls off his shirt and boxers between kisses. Shaded by a canopy of wisteria, I drink him in, as we exchange one kiss for another, the next more intoxicating than the one before it. He pulls away, gazing down at me, his palms caressing the top of my head with a gentle sweep.