His breath heated my ear as he opened his mouth and sank his teeth into my sensitive lobe. “Tell me how you feel, minha amada.”
“I felt hollow without you,” I rasped, straining to breath, “because… Te-amo.”
Although I couldn’t see him, I felt his reaction. He pressed his body against me just a little more. His cool breath tickled my ear. His lips kissed my ear softly. His hands loosened their grip on my throat.
He dove into me again, hitting an area deep inside my sex that made me shake against him. “Tell me you love me again,” he requested in barely a whisper.
I said it again, losing my grip on sanity and strength.
He stopped teasing me and pumped inside me at a steady rate. Each hurried and hard stroke was met with one more intense than the last. Each time he demanded I say it again and again, I obeyed, whispering the words he needed to hear over and over again until my throat rebelled.
My slippery wet core clenched around him, responding to his ethereal speed. My lower half mashed against the wood coffee table with every hurried and violent thrust that pushed my hips against the edge of the wood.
Slamming into me with a momentum that was robotic and intense, his groin crashed into my ass. The sounds of slapping flesh on flesh and my drenched sex echoed loudly in the grand room. My overly wet pussy gave him easier access, allowing him to stretch me and drive me crazy.
He wound his hand in my hair, forcing me to turn around and sit on the edge of the table. Spread for him, I was in the perfect position to take everything he gave me. As he moved me down until the middle of my back rested on the edge of the table and my hips tilted up, I reached out for the table again, clenching it tightly as my eyes rolled back and a shocking effusion of pleasure began to consume me. He grabbed my hips, sliding me down on his lap and pushed his cock farther inside of me. With my hands in his, he held my face, kissing me with a passion that made the room spin around me.
He rocked beneath me, pumping me with an extreme amount of force. Mind-numbing chills diluted my natural senses and I came apart, crying his name.
He fucked me violently; my body jerked with the force as he filled me. He bit into my ear, almost piercing through the sensitive skin, and released a sexy, throaty groan. The grip he had on my hands began to hurt but did nothing to diminish the high plane he made me ascend to. Slipping his hand from mine, he slid a thumb up my bottom lip and pushed down. Rocking against his vicious pace, I struggled to take his finger into my mouth. His free arm snaked around my body to roam in the cleft of my ass. With his finger in my mouth and the fingers of his other hand inside my ass, he succeeded in doing exactly what he promised.
My lips surrounded his fingers as they thrust in and out. My puckering hole relaxed around his finger, accommodating each digit that was added to the next. His cock slid easily in and out of me, creating a spine-tingling, almost unreal friction. My sex soaked his groin and hardness in so much liquid, it slid down the crux of my thighs and the crease of my behind.
I wanted to shut my eyes and let the rush consume my nervous system. A nagging pull inside me wouldn’t let me. Through half-closed eyes, I stared at him, sharing an intense eye exchange that spoke louder than words.
With a rigid series of thrusts, he overfilled every part of me, bringing me to one more soaring flight into euphoria. Accompanied by a resounding groan, his body stiffened. Lengthening his strokes, he pumped inside shallowly and filled my pulsing core with his arousal.
Sated, he collapsed against me, falling into me until my body was squeezed between him and the coffee table. The weight of him and his panting breaths, strained my already unnatural breathing pattern.
My knees ached and my core throbbed, but I felt…different. The internal holes I pretended were filled, were only superficially patched. Elias had revealed them for what they were. I could no longer pretend to be strong and unfeeling when I wanted to feel…everything.
I closed my eyes and ran my fingers in his hair, twirling the soft, short strands around my fingertips. Wanting to be closer, I wrapped my arms around him, unwilling to let go.
I opened my eyes after a few seconds of calm filled with our erratic breathing. I rolled my head from left to right and gazed at my father’s remains on the floor.
Lifting his head, he softly brushed his lips against mine before giving me an open mouth kiss with just a tinge of tongue. “Being without you—or punishing you when I’m with you—is no longer an option.” Kissing me again, he whispered, “I forgive you.”
“Thank you,” I said, my words full of emotion. I held him tighter and slid off the coffee table. We moved together until I sat on his lap with my legs surrounding him. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the chaotic beat of his heart reverberate through my chest. I closed my eyes again to truly appreciate the strange sense of peace, because I knew it would be a while before I felt it again.
Peering at the mess on the other side of the room, I was faced with what I didn’t want to see—my father’s ashes strewn across the floor. “I hate his actions…I hated my mother's, too, but I can’t hate either one of them.”
“But you should.”
I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the mess. “It takes so much energy to hate someone. I’ve had enough of my life stolen from me. I have to love them if I’m ever going to let them go. It gives me…solace. Don’t take that away from me.”
Expelling an elongated breath, he fingered my hair, moving various stray pieces from my face. “I’ll buy a new urn…for you, not for him. For now, I don’t want to see his remains anywhere. You might not hate him for what he did, but I do.”
THIRTY-ONE
THE NEXT MORNING, ELIAS wasn't in bed, but the familiar smell of the only thing he knew how to prepare helped me soothe away the notions that things were still rocky between us.
After preparing for my workday at La Dentelle, I met him downstairs. I took the long way around, making sure my father’s ashes were still where I hid them last night. For now, they were in the bookcase, hidden inside an ornately painted jewel-tone tin basket. He wouldn’t allow me to clean up the mess, but at the very least he was able to abate his anger and handle the ashes so I could put them somewhere out of sight.
In the dining room, he rose from the head of the table and gave me a kiss. I began to head toward the kitchen to grab a little more creamer for the coffee set on the table for me when he stopped me. His hands trailed down my bare shoulders as he bit his lip. “Is that what you’re wearing to work today?”
“Not this again,” I mumbled. “I’m wearing a sweater over it.”
“A sweater won’t be enough.”
“Elias—”
He grabbed my hand and placed it against his groin to feel the erection straining against his pants. “If you can do this to me, can you imagine what you’d do to the men who’d see you dressed this way? Go change.”
I turned around to do so but was grabbed back again.
“After I make you late for work.” Lifting me, he pushed me on top of the dining table.
In the midst of becoming lost in Elias’s erotic kisses, I glanced toward the front door, thinking I heard the slam of a car door.
The doorbell rang and mere seconds later the door was opened. The man who was the reason for too much trauma in my family began to call for his son.
Jaco approached the dining room first, he threw his hands up in defeat. “I tried to stop him, but he heard about your marriage and he’s hit the fucking roof.”
"Go upstairs," Elias ordered, helping me down from the table.
I glanced from Jaco to Elias and nodded. Leaving on my own accord, I missed Mr. Cari’s arrival by a hair’s breadth. He walked in the dining room the moment I walked out.
Jaco ushered me upstairs and inside Elias’s bedroom then closed the door. He pressed his back against it, focusing on me.
When I began to hear the loud booming shouts and the movement of furniture, I stood, wondering if I should’ve helped somehow.
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“Their business doesn't concern you, Mrs. Cari.” Jaco pressed his massive hands against an invisible wall between us. “Stay here."
The name was difficult to hear much less get used to. I swallowed hard, narrowing my eyes at him.
He quickly covered his crotch with both hands. “I’m not allowed to touch you, please don’t make me. Do what I told you to. Sit down."
“I’m going to be late for work. Claud—”
“I’ll personally call her and give her a reason why you couldn’t come in. You won’t be fired. So…sit.”
Sitting down wasn’t an easy task. I could hear the crashing and banging of various items along with Natanael’s booming voice echoing from downstairs. I sat in the middle of the bed and hugged my knees. Closing my eyes, I began to rock. Memories broke through my need to be calm, reminding me of a time a man put his hands on my mother. It wouldn’t stop, until they stopped.
Quiet covered the house and pulled me into boredom and impatience.
Hours had passed, and the fact I hadn’t gotten a good amount of sleep during the week and hadn’t had my coffee yet, rendered the struggle to stay awake too much to endure. The persistent heavy and hollow feeling I was left with since my father’s death made me slip into sleep whether I wanted to or not.
OPENING MY EYES, I squinted against the bright light pouring through the bedroom. Elias was sleeping peacefully next to me.
I slid up carefully, slowly, removing his arms from the way they wrapped around my body and clung to my waist. Even in his sleep, he put up a fight. When I tried to peel one finger away, it snapped down and clamped down hard on my hipbone and pulled me closer to his side. I gave up the fight and lifted my head, searching his face for any sign of bruising. Finding none, I scanned down his body and slowly pulled the sheet down to reveal his naked chest. I gasped at what I saw decorating Elias’s body—a large bruise a little larger than the size of someone’s fist was on his sternum.
“Elias,” I whispered, placing my hand against his jawline.
His eyes remained closed as he jolted up in bed, sucking his teeth as he did. As he sat on the edge of the bed, the sheet slipped away, revealing that he was completely nude. I touched his back gently, hoping he could feel me and know I was there for him.
Sucking his teeth in agony, he lurched forward and brought a hand across his torso.
I immediately bounded out of bed to stand in front of him.
“Don’t.” He reached out his hand and stopped me when I tried to examine him. “I'm not your father, don’t be my caretaker when I’m supposed to take care of you.”
“We need to get you to the hospital.” I pulled on his hand, ready to usher him to the local hospital. He grabbed my other hand, pulling me back until I stood between his gaped open legs.
“Don’t argue with me about this,” I said quietly, my words unassuming. Cupping his face in my hands, I observed the pained look behind his eyes. I contracted my brows and frowned. “I’ll feel better after you’re checked out.”
“It’s not necessary. He was only able to hit me once.” Ejected from the bed and grimacing, he kissed my forehead and strolled over to the window, staring out of it in silence.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why did he do this to you?”
“If I don’t pay attention to his words, he uses his fist to communicate with me. Always been that way. It’s just been a while since he fell into using the physical method to speak to me, and it’s the first time I’ve fought back.” The abject melancholy in his voice touched me deeply.
He turned back to the window and unleashed a wavering breath. “I know there are still things between us we haven’t fixed…and I want to.” Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at me and studied me with an unshakable intensity. “We all have a choice. I chose this life, and I’m not one who gives up on something because things are too difficult to manage. You know that firsthand, don’t you? My issue is, I want you in my life—this life. The life I know you’re apprehensive about.”
Taking a few minutes of silence, he turned to me, walking back toward my position on the bed. I scanned over his body, and I pressed my lips together to shove down the desire that threatened to divert me. I stood to meet his position.
“I’m in a mode so deep, I think I need to hurt you. I want to hurt you, but it’s really just my inability to deal with the way you hurt me—the way I think you’re going to hurt me. What do I do with you, Hanley?” He reached up and clasped both of my cheeks in his hands. “What’s left?”
“To trust me again,” I replied, draping my arms over his shoulders. “I know I don’t deserve it, and it might take time before you really can. But, I know what I missed. I wish we could get it back.” Exhaling, I added, “I miss all of it, even the bad parts. At least I felt like we were close that way. Because you trusted me enough to show me the worst parts of who you are. I can adjust to your lifestyle. Just give me time. It’s crazy. Sometimes I think I’m just as crazy as you are.”
“Are you just now realizing that?” he asked, giving me a flash of his will-dissolving smile. Being careful with his movements, he grabbed my hips and pulled me toward him until there was very little space between him and me. “I won’t involve you in the parts you’re uncomfortable with.”
“More like you’ll try not to.”
With a furrowed brow, creating a crease in his forehead, he assured me, “You will never see what you saw in Portugal again. Does that make it better for you?”
“Slightly.” I glanced at the bruise on his body and winced as though it was my battle scar instead of his. “Why did he hurt you?’ I asked again.
“He finally knew the cause for what happened in the house on Fletcher and…he didn’t appreciate the fact I married you without conferring with him first.” Tilting down, he touched his forehead to mine. “I can’t help myself. There is no such thing as a logical thought when it comes to you. I feel like you swallowed me whole, and I’m drowning inside of you.” His eyes lifted to me, holding me in his intense gaze. “I don’t care; I don’t want to be saved from you.”
Swooning, I sank against him. “You always make me sound like I’m the dangerous one.”
“And you are. You know why.” His hand slipped around to thumb the swell of my bottom lip. For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore the pain and take me down on the bed. “Believe me when I say it’s hard for me to admit this but”—he paused his quietly stated sentence and the mood in his eyes began to change—“I don’t want to be the man who punishes you because he can’t trust you. We both know what it’s really about. I’m not sure what other way to be or if I can ever stop feeling that way over you. Help me. I need you to teach me.”
“Teach you to do what?”
“Love you the right way,” he said softly against my lips.
My breath stopped for a moment and my heart began to palpitate. Had he not suddenly made me, I wouldn’t have been able to endure keeping up with his eye contact. “Is this a joke?” I asked quietly. “Elias Cari is asking me to teach him?” My voice cut out as the wave of emotion began burn through me. “I can’t. I don’t know if I know the right way, either.”
“Then, we’ll both teach each other. I want this to work, Hanley. I need it to work.”
“From the bruise on your body, I feel like we’ll be constantly fighting against everyone else to make sure it does.” Moving slowly and carefully, I slipped my hands down his chest and gently touched the mark his father left him with. “Your parents treat you like you’re a bystander to your own life and they don’t respect you.” Running my fingertips up his chest and around his jaw, I gave him a sweet kiss. “You deserve to be King, Elias. Natanael Cari is going to constantly hold you back. I want to help you become what you were born to be.”
With a smirk, he disregarded his pain and hoisted me up until my legs wrapped around him. He carried me toward the couch and sat down with me straddling his lap. A devious twinkle appeared in his eyes as he slipped bac
k against the couch while putting his arms behind his head.
“Tell me all of your plans, and I’ll tell you mine,” I said coyly.
His smile turned brighter, appearing proud in the moment. “At first, I wanted to use you to make my plan happen, but it’s too dangerous. I don’t want you involved.”
“I want to be involved. You’re not the kind of man who can stay in someone’s corner for long. You are meant to be out in front. And…I believe in what you said about changing the regime. I know you haven’t told me about everything you’re planning. Whatever you’re not telling me, I know it’s something big. I want to help.” Sloping forward, I caressed his lips with my own. “Please let me help you like you’ve helped me. Tell me everything you have on the agenda, and I’ll tell you where I can fit in.”
His smirk transformed into a signature smile that made my heart stutter. “What exactly do you want to know?”
THIRTY-TWO
WORK AT LA DENTELLE was slower than usual. I tried to busy myself with the racks and not focus on the fact that Jaco had returned as my personal and very visible bodyguard. It was no longer a nuisance now that I understood why he was needed, but it was still hard to get used to.
During my break, I made my way to Gloria Jean’s for a hazelnut coffee. Once I returned, I stopped at the doorway as I caught a glimpse of a woman I didn’t expect to see so soon. Skylar was back to her signature look, appearing the best I’d seen her look in months. She waltzed straight up to Claudia. I watched them for a while as their voices began to rise and the conversation turned into a shouting match.
Through the chaos of talking over each other, I figured out what Skylar and Claudia were arguing about. Skylar had come to get her job back, but Claudia had no interest in rehiring her.
Claudia stormed around the cashiers’ desk and retrieved Skylar’s last check, sending her on her way. Skylar paused in the middle of going through a long list of derogatory words to hurl at Claudia as though someone had tapped her on the shoulder. When she saw me, what little color there was to her face became nonexistent. She immediately ran to the back of the store. I looked around and over my shoulder, expecting Jaco to give me a problem.
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