Page 84 of Inked Desires

A frustrated growl bursts from my chest. I open my eyes wide, searching for the reason behind this interruption. Our breaths crash loudly against the white walls of the living room.

“Easy there, little bunny,” he breathes.

“I don’t want easy,” I protest.

And it’s true. Arès takes me as I am, and he’s turned on. Why let this chance slip away? I see that he wants it just as much as I do.

A soft smile lights up his lips. His hands glide around my waist, caressing my skin through my sweater.

“You just remembered. Your emotions are all over the place. Tomorrow, you might regret this,” he explains gently.

I shake my head vigorously.

“I could never regret you,” I affirm.

“For me, it wouldn’t just be sex, little bunny. Between us, it never was. If I take you, you’ll be mine. Mine alone. I’ll never share you with anyone else,” he warns, shifting tactics.

Ashamed, I lower my eyes to his chest rising rapidly. I hadn’t thought it through. He feels more than attraction. He remembers us. For me, it’s just sex—like a phase of discovery, the start of something new. It’s not fair to him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, embarrassed.

He lifts my chin. Softly, he leans in and kisses my lips. I look at him, surprised.

“Don’t apologize for wanting me,” he dismisses my guilt with a smile.

“I love it when you do that. Before, you always let me make the first move,” he laughs.

Then, suddenly serious, he adds:

“What’s between us isn’t a good idea. Jace is still out there. If he finds out you’re back, there could be consequences for you.”

Everything in life has consequences. Every decision, every careless move—everything.I understand what he’s trying to say, but I’m done letting Jace control my life.

“Life’s too short to dwell on every detail. On what ifs, should haves, could haves… it gets us nowhere. What if he doesn’t come back? Have you asked yourself that?” I shoot back.

He kisses me again. My stomach tightens, electrified.

“I ask myself that every day since you came back,” he admits.

“Stop torturing yourself. Just let things happen,” I plead softly.

It’s unfair of me. Just seconds ago, I was telling myself the same thing. For him, this isn’t just a kiss. It’s so much more than physical. But I’m too selfish to give up his lips.

We’ve been together before. Even if I don’t remember that time, can we try again? The attraction is still there.

“Let’s take our time,” he agrees.“I just want to love you the way you deserve.”

I climb the stairs and open the apartment door. Soft light spills from the living room down the hallway. I hang my jacket on the coat rack and slip out of my sneakers before following the glow.

Robert leans against the kitchen island, a glass of wine in hand. A dish and a second glass, also filled, rest before him.

“You’re home late,” he says with a sour tone.

“I didn’t know you were already back. Usually your trips last more than two days,” I reply, shrugging.

I feel uneasy. On one hand, excitement still floods me and I want to tell him about my evening, but on the other, I know it would hurt him. So I stay silent and stand frozen by the island.

“Is this for me?” I ask, pointing to the glass.