Chosen: Part Six (Allure Book 6)

by Josie Litton

  “What did he say?”

  Really? He wasn’t getting full reports directly from the good doctor himself? Patient/doctor confidentiality notwithstanding, I had trouble believing that. Which was why I was so circumspect about what I shared with the doctor. He knew about the tank and Sebastian’s attempt to strangle me because Adam knew about both but I’d said nothing about being in the oubliette and I had no intention of doing so. That was best forgotten, along with everything else that had occurred. The sooner we put it all behind us, the better.

  “He says that I’m recovering very well.”

  A look flitted across Adam’s face that I couldn’t decipher. All the same, my heartbeat sped up, keeping time with the rush of blood singing through my body. I felt more alive than I had since that moment with him in the gallery before the world exploded into blood and terror.

  My need for him leaped to an entirely new level. It was physical and so much more--the yearning for intimacy, friendship, trust, a sanctuary, never again a prison. A place where we could both be ourselves and together be so much more.

  I truly did try to fight it. Tried and lost. Everything I felt and all that I wanted was there to be seen in my body, my eyes, the small, uncontrollable movement of my hand stopping just short of his.

  Adam stared at me for a long moment before his gaze shifted. He stared off into the distance. My throat tightened before I realized that he was wrestling with a decision. One that he wasn’t long coming to. Abruptly, he stood and held out his hand to me.

  I rose and took it without hesitation. His fingers laced with mine, warm, strong, at once a wellspring of comfort and dark excitement.

  “Come,” he said and led the way back to the house.

  Chapter Ten

  Late afternoon sunshine filtered through gauzy curtains drawn closed across the high windows. In the shadows around the edges of the room, candles were lit. The bed was turned down, the pillows plumped and smoothed, the cool white sheets were inviting. Music played softly, a woman singing in French about love and regrets.

  I looked around the bedroom in astonishment. This was what Adam had been doing when I’d thought he was just showering and shaving? This utterly romantic gesture beyond anything I could ever have anticipated?

  He followed me into the room and shut the door before turning to face me. I stood frozen, unable to look away from him. He had the gait of a predator even when, as I suspected was the case now, he was holding himself in strict check. The distance between us shrank until he stopped almost--but not quite--close enough to touch.

  Quietly, with no warning, he said, “I have vowed to myself that I will keep you safe from every source of harm, including me.”

  I took a quick breath but it wasn’t enough. My lungs felt starved for air, my heart beating so quickly that I heard the rush of my own blood pounding in my ears. All I could think of was when?

  When had he made such a promise to himself? In the hours of brutal physical therapy, pushing himself to the limit and beyond? At night, lying beside me in bed? All the times we had been together in the past few days…yet still apart?

  Or before, when I was in Sebastian’s clutches?

  He had come after me like the avenging angel I sometimes thought of him as. But I knew better really. For all that he seemed capable of transcending all limits, he was a man. Beautiful, flawed, at once dangerous and vulnerable, ruthless but possessed of a conscience greater than any I had ever encountered before.

  However this resolve in him had come about, I didn’t doubt that it was real. Shadows lay between us, times when he had compelled me to submit to him despite myself. But he’d done that by making me want him and then giving me pleasure beyond any I could ever have imagined. With him, I’d discovered a part of my nature that I couldn’t deny, however much it still shocked me. It wasn’t politically correct and it might even be more than a little twisted but it was real and honest all the same. How could I be anything less?

  “I assumed I would be doing that at a distance,” he added. “But after everything, you’re still here. And what I see in you…what I feel--” His gaze moved over me, a look of such fierce yearning that I felt stripped bare before it, at once humbled and exalted.

  “You make me dare to hope even when I have no right to do so,” he said huskily.

  My throat tightened. I could scarcely breathe. His vulnerability was stark and overwhelming, as powerful as the man himself. That he was willing to expose it to me was even more astounding.

  Softly, I said, “I want to be here, Adam. I want to be with you.”

  I thought that would satisfy him but instead he looked genuinely bewildered. “I don’t understand how that can be. How could you not go when you had the chance?”

  The question sounded wrenched from him, as though he had been containing it for days and tried to do so still. It tore at me in turn.

  “You thought I’d just leave you? While you were injured?” Outrage bubbled up in me. I was far too much on edge--sexually, emotionally, in every way possible--to even try to resist it. Besides, anger was easier to deal with than the dark, surging need he ignited in me.

  “After what you’d seen?” he countered. “Of course, I did. When I woke up here, I assumed that you were gone. Discovering otherwise…felt like a miracle.”

  And here I’d been thinking that it was a miracle he was still alive, this man who had gone into the pit of Hell to save me. Remembering how close he had come to not being here at all made my heart clench.

  Yet the realization of what he had expected of me also hurt. I sucked in my breath against the pain of that. When I could speak again, I said, “I’m confused. You think I’m the kind of person who would just leave after everything that happened and yet you’re glad that I stayed?”

  His eyes darkened, as though a storm was sweeping across that arctic blue sea, a vast force of nature untamed and unleashed. A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw.

  He looked away, then back at me. I had the sense of him standing on the edge of a precipice and deciding to leap, with no idea of whether he could reach the other side.

  “Do you not realize that everyone else who has seen what I really am is dead?” His voice was low and rough, filled with the weight of memories that no one should have. “Rolf knows more than anyone apart from you but even he doesn’t know the full extent of what I’m capable of. Only you do.”

  He was talking about the people he had killed when he was still a boy, perhaps others since that I knew nothing of, and Sebastian. All of them dead, ghosts haunting his memories, while I remained… More alive than I had ever been before. Thanks to him.

  “There’s a monster inside me,” he went on implacably. “I could say it’s the result of what happened to my parents but the truth is that it was there from the beginning. It merely woke up when they died.”

  He stepped closer, only to catch himself and stop abruptly, maintaining the distance between us. His hands curled into fists at his sides, clenched so tightly that the knuckles turned white. I felt the battle he was waging to stop himself from touching me.

  The muscles in my abdomen tightened. I had the sudden realization that he was presenting me with a choice between two possible futures--with and without him. Moreover, he was doing it in the starkest possible terms, holding nothing back. Even as he showed me his deepest longings, he seemed determined to make me believe the worst about him.

  “I could have killed Sebastian much more quickly,” he said. His voice was low and hard, implacable even as it was laced with self-loathing. “But I drew it out. I wanted him to suffer. I still want it…. My only regret is that you saw.”

  He broke off, his gaze slipping from mine into a dark and terrifying place where I could not follow.

  But I could pull him back from it. At the very least, I could try. My throat ached. I hated how he felt about himself as much as I hurt at the thought of what he had suffered, beginning at far too young an age. Everything in me yearned to take away his pain, to
soothe and even heal him. But who was I to even imagine that I could do that? I was a Delaney, born into a family seeped in corruption and criminality for which nothing existed except overwhelming greed and the lust for power.

  As sickened as I was by all that, I couldn’t deny the forces that had shaped me any more than Adam could ignore his own past. Survival for us--separately as well as individually--depended on confronting both.

  Fighting the tenderer impulses that threatened to overwhelm me, I lifted my chin and faced him squarely.

  “You think I should be shocked by what you did to Sebastian? Afraid? Disgusted?”

  When he didn’t deny it, I plunged on. “I’m sorry to disappoint you but you above all should know by now that I’m not the princess in a fairy tale that the media makes me out to be. Rapunzel in her tower or some crap like that. Far from it. I’ve spent my whole life in the dirt and muck of my family. If I ever had any illusions, I let go of them a long time ago.”

  That wasn’t entirely true; I had still been stunned and sickened when I discovered what had really happened to Patrick. But Adam would know about that soon enough; he had to.

  His lips parted on a soundless exhalation. He stared at me as though he wanted desperately to believe what I was saying but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

  Thickly, he said, “How can you simply accept what I am? What I’ve done to you is bad enough but after what you saw…?”

  Savage, red-tinged memory washed through me. Adam hurling himself at Sebastian, the two struggling, blood spraying everywhere, so much blood. And more…the darkness in his eyes, the pupils so dilated that all hint of blue was gone, leaving only black windows into his soul. The wildness of his body, moving with no regard for his own safety, not flinching even when his wound was torn open. A primal battle for power and dominance that ended with the thud of a skull slamming into stone again and again until all resistance was gone and there was only death.

  Sebastian’s, not Adam’s. My gratitude for that was so intense that it robbed me of breath. Even so, it wasn’t enough. I needed a far more tangible reminder that he was alive, whole, and right in front of me. Holding his gaze, I pressed my fingertips against his shirt directly above his heart. He jerked but he didn’t draw away.

  My voice shook but my conviction was unshakable. “Yes, I saw. You killed him savagely. After you had faced him with honor and spared his life. After he repaid you for that with betrayal.”

  My silk chiffon skirt brushed around my bare legs as I moved closer. I was vividly aware of the nubby knit of my sweater rubbing against my hardened nipples. Under other circumstances, I might have been embarrassed by my arousal. But with Adam, any such consideration burned away before the overwhelming need to heal the wound far worse than anything Sebastian could ever have inflicted.

  “He thought he could use me to trap you,” I said. “He failed because of the man you are. Man, not monster, no matter what you think. You’re smarter, stronger, vastly more determined, and willing to lay down your life for what you believe in. That’s what I saw, Adam. That’s what I know.”

  His eyes were hooded but I felt the intentness of his gaze to the core of my being. He held himself absolutely still with a single exception. As I brushed against him, his cock twitched. That part of him at least was wonderfully unrepentant.

  Emboldened by a heady mix of relief and desire, I slid both my hands under his pull-over and stroked the hard contours of his back. Resting my cheek against his bare chest, I brushed my lips over his skin.

  He stood stiffly, not responding but not pushing me away either. I took that as permission to continue.

  “You were a child, Adam,” I said. “Is it so inconceivable that faced with unbearable pain, you embraced a part of yourself that seemed powerful enough to protect you from yet more hurt? And able to protect others as well?”

  I gave him a moment to consider that, then added, “You are who you are and I’m the woman who’s chosen to stay with you. Have you considered what that says about me?”

  A heartbeat…another… The pulse of his life resonated beneath my skin, drawing me ever deeper into the web of my desire for him. When he still remained silent, I dared to look up. What I saw caused a flare of raw hunger so intense that my inner muscles clenched.

  Dark bands of color slashed across his chiseled cheeks. His lips were parted, his nostrils flared. A quiver ran through me as I realized that he was inhaling my arousal, breathing it in, deeply and insatiably. His gaze, locking on mine, threatened to devour me.

  Before it could, I raised myself on tiptoe and brushed my mouth against his. Softly, I murmured, “I’m here, Adam, eyes wide open and certain of what I want.” I flicked the tip of my tongue along the fullness of his lower lip and savored his groan. My hands slipped down over his broad chest to his tapering hips before settling on the button of his jeans.

  Holding his gaze, I said, “Unless you stop me right now, I’m going to take it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The change in Adam was remarkable. In moments, he went from a man laboring under an unbearable burden that threatened to shatter him to his much more familiar confident, not to say arrogant self. I could only marvel at the transformation and wonder at my own part in it. Did I really affect him so powerfully? The thought was almost as arousing as the man himself.

  A wicked grin curved his too-tempting mouth. “Do your worst, sweetheart.”

  Instantly, a wave of heat moved through me. Despite blushing furiously, I didn’t hesitate. Quickly, I stepped back, reached up under my skirt and slid my white lace thong down first one leg, then the other. It dangled from my finger for a moment before I tossed it away. With it went any remaining inhibitions. Suddenly bare, I was acutely conscious of how wet and aching I was. The memory of how close we had both come to death made the need to celebrate life all the more intense and urgent. Pressing my thighs together, I swayed a little.

  Instantly, Adam’s hands closed around my upper arms, steadying me. He stepped forward, gently but implacably urging me back until I felt the wall behind me.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky against the curve of my ear.

  “You. Here. Now.” After everything that had happened and all that still remained ahead of us, I was in a very carpe diem mood. Seize the day and while I was at it, the man.

  He drew back a little, gazing down at me. His smile deepened. “And you expect me to just comply?”

  This far more relaxed and playful Adam was enticing but only up to a point. Above all, I wanted to get my way and if that meant I had to cheat a little…

  I slipped a hand down between us, stroking his impressive erection. “We could work out a trade. What I want--” My fingers lingered over him, savoring his length and girth. Muscles deep inside me contracted, needing him there, yearning for him. “--in return for what I also want.”

  He laughed at my boldness, which only encouraged me further. Driven by an overwhelming sense of need to be as close to him as possible, I slipped my hands under his cotton pullover and stroked the powerful muscles of his back. He was so perfectly formed--a powerful, sensual being capable of surmounting every challenge, yet as vulnerable as I was to the passion exploding between us.

  Suddenly impatient, I yanked the pullover up and off. Adam helped, sliding his arms out, and dropped the garment onto the floor.

  My own clothes were suddenly unbearably constricting. Light-headed, I stripped off my top and followed it with my bra. The hiss of his breath emboldened me. Cupping my breasts in my hands, I brushed them against his bare chest. Dark hair like rough silk ran between his flat nipples, across his pecs and down in a thickening line over his abdomen to disappear under the waistband of his jeans. Shamelessly, I rubbed against him, my nipples tingling from the heady mix of pleasure teetering on the edge of pain.

  A shiver of longing rippled through me. Into his ear, I murmured, “Before you, I never really believed that I’d enjoy giving a blow job. Among themselves,
most women I know don’t even pretend that they do. They just feel obligated or they’re manipulating the guy, whatever. But with you I discovered that giving head was completely different from anything I could ever have expected.”

  His hands tightened on my arms. I felt his cock hardening yet further. Shamelessly, I arched my hips, grinding against him.

  “Oh…?” he murmured.

  “You have no idea how amazing you feel in my mouth, on my tongue, when I take you down my throat. I love how hot you are, the way you taste, how your eyelids grow heavy. Right before you come, the big, long veins down the length of your shaft throb and--”

  A low curse broke from him. “Enough, or I’m going to…”

  I drew back but just a little and deliberately ran the tip of my tongue over my lips. “Do what? Let me have my wicked way with you? Even as we speak, I could be slipping down onto my knees, undoing the zipper of your jeans, freeing your magnificent cock and--”

  The growl that rose up out of his chest sent tremors through me. I was playing with fire but I didn’t care. Anything was better than seeing the bleak, tortured light in his eyes when he called himself a monster.

  “Hold that thought, sweetheart,” he said. “Another time I’ll be more than agreeable but right now--”

  His hand slipped under my dress even as his thigh moved between mine, pushing my legs wider apart. The first stroke of his finger along my seam wrung a groan from me.

  “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice rough with the pleasure of discovery. “I’ve wanted to touch you like this for days. Lying beside you at night, sitting across a table from you, has been torture. All I could think of was making you come.”

  My legs quivered. He had one arm wrapped around my waist, the other tucked under my skirt where his wicked hand…

  Long, lean fingers parted my folds. His touch was light, teasing, but only at first. Quickly, his urgency matched my own. Deep in the part of my mind still capable of thought, I realized how much I loved being touched by him, claimed, explored, possessed. It was when all the barriers between us fell away that I felt the safest and most complete. Even the memory of that was enough to make me stronger in the world. I wasn’t the woman I had been just a few months ago, still reeling from the shock of what I had learned about the depths of my family’s depravity. On the contrary, I had uncovered strength in myself that I’d never known I possessed.