“Nothing’s wrong.” He tightens his arms around me. “I want to wake up with you in my bed.”
Back in the safety of his room, warm and content, I begin to fall asleep in Lawrence’s arms. And it’s in that semi-conscious state, where my lies peel off their deceitful layers, revealing the truths within, that I wish for a different set of arms.
Lawrence
WITH MY ARMS WRAPPED AROUND HER, I pull her closer to me and watch her sleep. I bury my nose in her hair, breathing her in, and wish I could tell her what she does to me, what she makes me feel, what she makes me yearn for. I wasn’t planning on telling her about my past. I’ve never told anyone before. Yet I found myself opening to her, and for once, revisiting the past didn’t hurt. It’s as though it is truly in the past now.
I chuckle ruefully and ponder how she can drive me to such madness, such want and need?
Sometimes, I wonder if karma enjoys laughing at our expense. You tell life that you want to go left, only to find a rock blocking that road so you must go right. You tell life that you found the woman you want to marry only to discover that she loves your best friend. You tell life that your dormant heart doesn’t beat anymore at the sight of anyone or anything, and what does it do? It sends you a slip of a woman with a quick tongue and fire in her eyes who not only makes your heart beat at the sight of her, but she makes it throb with such intensity, so much passion, you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered yet. You tell life that work and success are all you need to be complete, and they are … until you make her smile. And then you know it was all a lie because you would sacrifice everything you own and even the clothes on your back just for one more smile from her.
So I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that owning her body isn’t enough for me anymore. I want it all. I want everything from her.
Watching her come undone in my hands, my cock pulsing inside her, her nails clawing my back. Watching her lose herself with me, in the pleasure I bring her …
Christ, it’s a sight to behold.
I live for those moments because it’s when I see my wild beauty. The one without fears, without mind games. And she’s beautiful. And she’s devastation. Just thinking of anyone who’s owned part of her, who may still own her, drives me mad with raging jealousy, because she belongs to me, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
I’ve always believed that it’s too late for me. When love disappointed me for the first time, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t be fooled into believing in it again. But as I stare at the woman sleeping in my arms, I feel my resolution crumbling. Hope rekindles like a flame that never quite went out. And maybe I’m wrong—maybe there’s another chance for me, after all.
I caress her cheek, my fingers lingering on the softness of her warm skin. It may be foolish to hold on to hope, but sometimes hope is all we have left. And this woman makes me want it all. Every laugh. Every kiss. Every moan. Every thought. I want them all to be mine, even if I have to pay for each one with my own blood. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I want her to be mine.
And only mine.
Blaire stirs in my arms, mumbling something unintelligible. I lower my head and kiss her forehead, saying, “Shh, my love. Sleep.”
After a few minutes pass, she’s lying still, her breathing slowing down, when I hear her say in her sleep, “Ronan … come back. Come back to me.”
Blaire
I WAKE UP, SMILING. Spreading my arms on the bed, I reach for Lawrence only to find an empty, cold pillow next to me. I sit up quickly as the sheets fall down to my waist. Looking to my left and to my right, I see no trace of him. Not in the bathroom and not in his walk-in closet.
Back in the safety of his room, warm and content, I begin to fall asleep in Lawrence’s arms. And it’s in that semi-conscious state, where my lies peel off their deceitful layers, revealing the truths within, that I wish for a different set of arms.
Lawrence
WITH MY ARMS WRAPPED AROUND HER, I pull her closer to me and watch her sleep. I bury my nose in her hair, breathing her in, and wish I could tell her what she does to me, what she makes me feel, what she makes me yearn for. I wasn’t planning on telling her about my past. I’ve never told anyone before. Yet I found myself opening to her, and for once, revisiting the past didn’t hurt. It’s as though it is truly in the past now.
I chuckle ruefully and ponder how she can drive me to such madness, such want and need?
Sometimes, I wonder if karma enjoys laughing at our expense. You tell life that you want to go left, only to find a rock blocking that road so you must go right. You tell life that you found the woman you want to marry only to discover that she loves your best friend. You tell life that your dormant heart doesn’t beat anymore at the sight of anyone or anything, and what does it do? It sends you a slip of a woman with a quick tongue and fire in her eyes who not only makes your heart beat at the sight of her, but she makes it throb with such intensity, so much passion, you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered yet. You tell life that work and success are all you need to be complete, and they are … until you make her smile. And then you know it was all a lie because you would sacrifice everything you own and even the clothes on your back just for one more smile from her.
So I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that owning her body isn’t enough for me anymore. I want it all. I want everything from her.
Watching her come undone in my hands, my cock pulsing inside her, her nails clawing my back. Watching her lose herself with me, in the pleasure I bring her …
Christ, it’s a sight to behold.
I live for those moments because it’s when I see my wild beauty. The one without fears, without mind games. And she’s beautiful. And she’s devastation. Just thinking of anyone who’s owned part of her, who may still own her, drives me mad with raging jealousy, because she belongs to me, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
I’ve always believed that it’s too late for me. When love disappointed me for the first time, I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t be fooled into believing in it again. But as I stare at the woman sleeping in my arms, I feel my resolution crumbling. Hope rekindles like a flame that never quite went out. And maybe I’m wrong—maybe there’s another chance for me, after all.
I caress her cheek, my fingers lingering on the softness of her warm skin. It may be foolish to hold on to hope, but sometimes hope is all we have left. And this woman makes me want it all. Every laugh. Every kiss. Every moan. Every thought. I want them all to be mine, even if I have to pay for each one with my own blood. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I want her to be mine.
And only mine.
Blaire stirs in my arms, mumbling something unintelligible. I lower my head and kiss her forehead, saying, “Shh, my love. Sleep.”
After a few minutes pass, she’s lying still, her breathing slowing down, when I hear her say in her sleep, “Ronan … come back. Come back to me.”
Blaire
I WAKE UP, SMILING. Spreading my arms on the bed, I reach for Lawrence only to find an empty, cold pillow next to me. I sit up quickly as the sheets fall down to my waist. Looking to my left and to my right, I see no trace of him. Not in the bathroom and not in his walk-in closet.
