Page 56

When it’s over, I collapse on top of her, breathing hard, her skin slick against mine.

Finally, I slip out of her precious petals and lie beside her. She lays her hand against my chest, looking up at me with shocked eyes. “I feel drunk. And not from the champagne.”

“That was heaven,” I whisper, my eyes growing heavy. “You’reheaven. I haven’t felt this relaxed… ever.”

“Then stay with me,” she says, words I’m desperate to hear.

CHAPTER 20

EVIE

When Dom falls asleep, it’s like he hasn’t rested properly for years. He breathes softly, hugging me close to him. If I move for a moment to readjust my position, he tenses up, his subconscious needing me to stay beside him. The room smells of sex… and I like it. Maybe some people would find that weird. But I love it.

I can’t believe howeffortlessthat felt. When he walked into the room and stared at me with those simmering eyes, suddenly, all my nerves melted away. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty. It was just me and him and our hunger, and that was it.

With each touch, I felt myself letting control slip. I didn’t need to white-knuckle my belief that I don’t want or need him. I didn’t need to stubbornly convince myself that I want to get free.

When we were naked and hot and the rest of the world didn’t exist, it was simple. My body and my desire didn’t feel any complications. There was nothing but the wet, naked hunger.

My sex is still aching. He seriously went nuts. For a minute, I thought I might have to tell him to stop or slow down. But thensizzling pleasure zipped through me, turning the momentary virgin discomfort to something drug-like, something destiny-tinged.

It was like I became someone else as I moved with him. I couldn’t think. Just feel. Just want. Even now, when I know my body needs a rest and a reset, I want it again.

I place my cheek against his chest, listening to his steady heartbea. I don’t want to sleep. If I sleep, I’ll be forced to wake in the cold light of morning and confront what I’ve done.

My mind knows better. I know giving myself to my kidnapper, to theson of a mafia Don, is a bad idea. But my heart and my body don’t give two damns. It’s too easy to banter with him, to kiss him, to claim him and have him claim me.

I shift my legs, trailing the foot one of leg across the ankle of the other, feeling the anklet, the plastic device telling me in no uncertain terms what I really am.

Stockholm Syndrome. I say the word in my mind as if that will make this easier.

But the truth?

I enjoy lying in his arms. I like listening to and feeling his strong heartbeat against me. I enjoy living a real-life version of The Thornbound Oath series, except this, somehow, is hotter and more emotional and makes me feel like I belong even more.

As my eyes grow heavy and my breathing slows down, a smile spreads across my face.

I’m lying in the arms of my kidnapper and I’mhappy.

Dom yells, “No!”

I sit up quickly, finding him standing at the edge of the bed, his eyes open but glassy, disconnected somehow. I instantly know that he’s sleepwalking. There’s somethingnot thereabout him as he stares into space, his hands clenched into fists at his side, his naked chest rising and falling rapidly, the moonlight shimmering against the scars on his chest and shoulders.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice softening.

I stand and press my hands against his chest gently. “It’s okay. Dom. You’re safe. You’re not there anymore. You’re here… with me.”

“Suh-safe?” he moans, looking down but still not seeing me. “I’ll never be safe. It will never end. I’ll always be alone.”

Tears prick my eyes, making the world blurry. “That’s not true. You’ll find someone…” I hesitate, but he’s asleep. He won’t remember this, right? I need to focus on making him feel better. I hate seeing him like this. “You’ve already found somebody–me.”

He tilts his head like a beast who’s trying to understand human language, and that just brings me back to The Thornbound Oath series again, how the main character softens her captor, learns to love him, mutes the savage somewhat and teases out the softness beneath.

It’s difficult to believe this scarred, scared man is the same one from a few hours ago, the man who claimed me and made me want more.

“I… have you,” he murmurs, eyes still glassy, not really there.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m here, Dom. You don’t have to go through this alone.”