Page 100 of Let the Game Begin (Kiss Me Like You Love Me #1)

“Because of the person sending those riddles?” I demanded, clinging to him.

I couldn’t imagine being far away from there, from his family and from him.

It was irrational, that thought, and it was stupid to hope that there was a real connection between the two of us, but I also didn’t want to exclude the possibility that he might feel something—anything—for me.

“Yes, but it’s not just that. I don’t want you to…” He stopped, rubbing his jaw where the hint of an incoming beard gave him a particular masculine appeal.

“Want me to what?” I prompted him, and he took another drag on his cigarette, holding the smoke in for longer than usual before he released it through his nose.

“The heart can create illusions that destroy the soul. Often, we see only what we want to see. Even when it’s not there,” he answered cynically. He spoke with a removed sort of certainty that was difficult to gainsay.

“I’m not under any illusions,” I answered firmly. Neil took one last drag and put it out before turning to give me his full attention.

“You don’t understand. You shouldn’t—” And he didn’t finish because I leaned closer until I could capture his mouth with my own.

Neil’s eyes widened in surprise, and he clenched his teeth to prevent me from deepening the kiss.

I slowly rubbed myself against him, and after a few moments of resistance he caved with a frustrated groan.

He opened his lips, warm and full, and allowed me to soar beyond desire, to lose myself in the thrill of his taste.

I put a hand on his chest and my fingers slid against the warm fabric of his sweater.

I could feel his heart beating, but it was his soul that I wanted to touch.

Neil slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and guided my head back to intensify the kiss.

His tongue began hunting mine in that crude, passionate way that made it so hard to keep up with him.

My heart flipped wildly with each languid touch.

The more he kissed me, the more of me ignited.

Jolts of electricity moved from the middle of my chest straight down between my thighs.

Neil moved his lips against mine so confidently and expertly that it instantly aroused me, made me hunger for him.

I was forced to interrupt our lustful collision, however, to take a breath of air.

I paused, resting my forehead against his.

“You should get far away from me,” Neil insisted, licking his already-wet lips.

“I don’t see why,” I said miserably, and he looked into my eyes, irritated. I could read his moods perfectly now.

“If you continue to stay near me…” His hand stroked my neck before moving down my body, touching every part of me: breasts, stomach, torso, hip. He stopped at the button on my jeans and undid it, slowly pulling down the zipper.

“I would make you feel wanted every day.” He slipped a hand into my jeans and brushed his fingers against the fabric of my panties. My eyes went wide because I realized what he was going to do, but we were out in the open, in a hammock, extremely vulnerable to being discovered.

And yet…I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.

I felt paralyzed, overwhelmed by lust.

“You’d become addicted to my touch.” He began to rub me through the cotton, which was already feeling damp.

“N-Neil,” I stammered.

We were in the garden…in the garden…and…

“I’d give you intense pleasure…” He brushed aside the fabric that was in his way and grazed my outer labia with his cool fingertips. I was already hot and swollen with arousal. I blushed violently, embarrassed by how much my body wanted him and how little I could hide it.

“Urgent.” He pushed his index finger into me and my walls accepted him, yielding and wet. Although I was getting lost in his touch, I tried to grab his wrist and catch my breath.

“Deep.” Neil continued to knock me flat with his hoarse, mature voice. He pressed his finger in all the way and I gasped, squeezing my hand around his wrist but unable to put up any real resistance.

“Stop,” I begged, though my breathless tone undermined me.

“Uncontrollable.” He began moving his finger in and out of me with a perfectly calculated rhythm. “Powerful.” He sped up and I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning or screaming. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead to his chest.

“I’d make you enjoy it, Selene, and I’d give you this exhausting, sublime pleasure every single day.”

I arched my back as his thumb began to tease my clit, making my hips buck against his wicked hand. A moan escaped me and he grinned with pride.

“Shh, Babygirl,” he chided me, continuing his slow, seductive torture. All at once, I trembled and he bit my lower lip, pulling hard on it as my sex contracted around his finger. I sucked in a breath and buried my face in his chest, trying not to cry aloud.

“I’d let you use my body, my hands, my mouth, my tongue, but…” His baritone pushed me over the edge.

I collapsed back into reality and opened my eyes, struggling to control myself again, and more importantly, to get some oxygen into my lungs.

My lower lip was sore and swelling, my chest rose and fell wearily, and my slick center was still being rocked by the thrilling, unstoppable tremors of orgasm.

I only caught a few words of his intermittent speech, but that last sentence was clear to me: this would be all I ever got from him.

He pulled his hand out from between my thighs and brought it up to his mouth.

He sniffed at my arousal like an animal and I went red, though I should have been used to his bold, obscene gestures by them.

Then he stuck his index finger between his lips and sucked, locking eyes with me.

He didn’t speak, but it felt like he was telling me “I love the taste of you,” and I gasped at how powerfully his masculine voice echoed in my imagination.

“Did you get any of what I just said to you?” he asked, sounding amused.

He looked at me like the inexperienced girl that I was; I hated that part of myself, so shy and insecure.

Sometimes, I wished I was more like other people: audacious, uninhibited, shameless.

But those weren’t qualities that I had. So instead, I ducked my head and quickly zipped up my jeans, pressing my thighs together and staring at a random point on his chest.

“I’m not suited for relationships. I wasn’t meant to be with a woman like that.

And it’s not because I don’t want to. Believe me, I would like to be that way…

” He lifted my chin with his index finger, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

There, I caught a glimpse of words unspoken, hidden thoughts, secret fears, and the terrible memories that had made him into such a troubled, disillusioned man.

“But the Boy and I still have so many problems to deal with…” He raised his torso away from me and sat up in the hammock, which only pulled me along with him.

Then we both sat, our bodies swaying back and forth as the moon watched over us. Who knew what she thought of us. Of a girl with her heart full of hopes and dreams and a disaster of a boy with a brilliant mind that was nonetheless caught up in the web of the past.

“Who is the Boy?” I asked hesitantly, resting my hands on my kneecaps. My shoes grazed the green lawn with every tiny swing of the hammock.

“Neil,” he said simply, not looking at me.

I didn’t understand his introspective reasoning. Sometimes, the things he said were too abstruse and mysterious for me to decipher them, but this part of him fascinated me more than anything else.

“There is a star in the sky for each of us, far enough away that our mistakes cannot tarnish it.” I murmured under my breath.

“Christian Bobin said that. You should recommend him to the Boy, for when he’s feeling sad,” I whispered.

Neil turned to look at me and furrowed his brow.

I knew he wasn’t going to elaborate on that idea, because he’d already said too much by his standards, but I needed to be patient.

“Think about what I said. I’ve fucked other people these last two weeks, just like I’ve been doing since the beginning.

Do you know what that means?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for me to answer before continuing.

“It means that I like you, Selene, but you are not indispensable. You get me out of my head for a minute and nothing more. I want to be honest with you. If you don’t have any illusions, like you say, then I won’t be disappointing you. ”

It suddenly occurred to me that I was looking at a frozen person, trapped inside himself, surrounded by walls so high and thick that they would be impossible to break down.

I looked away when he confirmed what I’d feared: that he’d been with other women.

The thought of other women touching him or him touching them the way he touched me made me feel nervy and vulnerable.

A quiet ache in my chest kept me from replying.

I opened my lips and then closed them several times, unable to say a word.

His capacity for destruction was enviable. He truly was a magnificent bastard.

“I hope that behind your mask of ice there is a heart that can one day beat for someone.” It was difficult to get the words out.

A strange sensation crawled over my skin; there was a stabbing pain in my chest and nausea rose from the pit of my stomach at the memory of what I’d just allowed him to do to me.

I was afraid that I had fallen hopelessly in love with him, and that knowledge scared me.

But love happened at random and could not be planned for or controlled.

Love was an unpredictable and irrational little monster, sometimes good, sometimes evil.

It was frequently insane and inexplicable, controversial and illogical.

For the first time in my life, I had been a victim of love, and I still couldn’t say exactly what love was, only that I knew it when I started to see the perfection in Neil’s imperfections. And that I wouldn’t have found it in anyone else.

“Oh, one last thing: from now on, feel free to touch the other girls, kiss them, really show them a good time,” I taunted him, echoing his own words. “But don’t come near me again.”

I climbed out of the hammock, and putting on a tranquil facade, I showed him just how serious I was about that demand. Neil stood up as well, preparing to loom over me with his great height, but I refused to be intimidated.

“We both know that you’ll let me touch you whenever I want,” he answered, all arrogant certainty. But I just gave him an insolent smile and moved closer to him, narrowing my eyes.

“Or maybe I’ll let one your friends touch me and get rid of this inexperience.

After all, you said it yourself.…” I paused for effect and gave him a slow, sensual blink, pursing my lips.

“I need to learn how to fuck without kissing,” I whispered, sounding amused.

I spoke slowly to really imprint the message in his mind.

Maybe I was being immature and reacting out of unhealthy jealousy, but if he was going to live freely, sleeping with all of kinds of women, I should be able to go my own way as well.

Neil stared darkly at me. His bright eyes had ceased shining and had given way to a stormy, menacing expression. I might have found it thrilling if I didn’t know how hard he struggled to control his impulses.

“You’d better leave, Tinkerbell.” Something ominous now lurked behind the nickname he always called me.

Neil stared intensely at me and some feminine instinct urged me not to continue arguing with him.

Then, suddenly, his right arm, which had been hanging at his side, began to shake, drawing my eye.

The fingers of that hand moved as though he were playing an invisible piano, and I realized that he was probably trying to express some sort of tense energy he felt moving inside him.

I took a step back because standing there, immersed in the darkness and lit only by the faint glow of the moon, that man looked like a fallen angel, a tortured soul trapped in a divinity’s body and…

Dangerous. He looked dangerous.