In the Dark--A Sexy Billionaire Romance Page 15

  He rocked against me, teasing us both, making me pant against his mouth as the sparks became flames licking up inside me.

  Then, just when it became too much, he pulled away, reaching for one of the condom packets on the nightstand. He ripped it open, sheathed himself in seconds flat, then came back over me. He reached for my hand and guided it down between us, wrapping my fingers around his cock, and I knew what he wanted me to do without him saying a thing.

  I lifted my hips and fitted him against me, then I guided him inside.

  There was no pain this time and only a little sensitive soreness. But I was so wet I barely felt it. He slid in as if he’d been made for me, fitting me so very perfectly, and then he paused, his chest rising and falling fast and hard.

  He looked down at me and I met his gaze, the amber in his eyes glowing. Staring at me the way I used to stare at him, as if I was the best thing in his life.

  My heart contracted even as my sex tightened around his cock, gripping him, holding him to me. I lifted my hands to him but he shifted again, turning us both once more until he was on his back with me straddling him again. His hands were heavy on my hips, holding me down on him.

  ‘Show me, Vee,’ he murmured.

  He didn’t explain, but I didn’t need him to. I showed him what was in my heart.

  I began to move on him, rising and falling, his hands guiding me in a rhythm that was at first strange, then interesting and then thrilling. I put my hands on his chest and stroked him, glorying in the scars, the rough with the smooth, and the hard muscle beneath it. In the heat of him. Loving how tight his jaw went and how his gaze was glued to mine, as if he couldn’t look away.

  I took his hands and guided them to my breasts and he stroked me, his thumbs circling my aching nipples, providing the most incredible counterpoint to the sensations that were building between my legs.

  It was so good. The pleasure made me shake.

  I put my palms on his chest and leaned on it, moving faster, wanting more friction, rocking my hips and I could hear his breath catch as the movement gave him more pleasure too.

  I loved the sound. Loved that I could do that to him—make this god of a man catch his breath due to the pleasure I was giving him.

  I loved him. I always would.

  But this isn’t for ever.

  I shoved the thought away, refusing to let it ruin this moment, going faster and faster, chasing the climax that hovered just out of reach. His eyes burning into mine were a deep gold now, his expression so fierce. Hungry. Making me feel like a goddess.

  Then he slipped one hand between my legs, finding my clit, giving me the extra sensation I needed, and the climax hit me like a wave, lifting me up so high I swore I could have touched the sky.

  I cried out his name, my whole body rigid, a lightning rod for pleasure. I ground down through my body and into his, and I heard him growl.

  His hands on my hips tightened and, as I rode through the last few pulses of pleasure, he turned me again so that I lay beneath him. And then he thrust hard, fast, as he found his own pleasure.

  He groaned out my name, his hands sliding beneath me, gathering me close to his chest. Then he turned his face into my neck, his breathing harsh and wild, his big body shuddering with the effects of the climax.

  I put my arms around him and I held him, my heart full and aching, tears behind my lids.

  I love you, I whispered. I love you so much.

  But only in my head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Elias

  I TURNED ON my side, gathering her close, holding her against me. She adjusted herself slightly, snuggling against me as if that was her rightful place.

  The intensity of the orgasm that had gripped me was still pulsing hard in my head, pleasure making me shudder.

  She was so warm. She felt so good.

  She loves you.

  I closed my eyes in the darkness, keeping her close, listening to her breathing begin to slow, become regular. Her body relaxed, as if finally letting go of something, and I knew she’d fallen asleep.

  I was pretty sure she hadn’t meant me to hear what she’d whispered as the climax had hit. Perhaps she’d thought I wouldn’t notice, being too occupied with my own intense orgasm. But of course I’d noticed. I noticed everything about her.

  She loved me.

  It wasn’t a shock. She’d as good as admitted it earlier, but I hadn’t thought about it. Deliberately hadn’t thought about it. Because complicated was exactly what I didn’t want and her feelings for me were the ultimate complication.

  That was why I had sex with strangers. Why I paid for it. Why I left my money on the nightstand and walked away. There were no feelings with strangers. No complications.

  But, also, not as much pleasure.

  I didn’t want that thought. I didn’t want the words she’d whispered to me, either, but they echoed in my head. And there was a part of me that wanted to let her go and walk away, walk straight out of that fucking door. Never see her again.

  But I couldn’t bear the thought. She didn’t deserve it and I wasn’t that much of a fucking coward. I cared about her. That was the issue. And no amount of telling myself that I didn’t give a shit made the slightest bit of difference to what was in my heart.

  I cared about her feelings, and what she thought, and what happened to her.

  It was a goddamned mess.

  I wasn’t going to sleep so I waited a time, enjoying the feeling of her in my arms, and then I gently eased away from her, getting out of bed and moving out into the living area.

  I wasn’t sure what I was doing. My body was moving on autopilot, reflexively putting the plates from our snack onto the hotel trolley, along with the half-drunk wine. The blindfold lay on the floor near the couch.

  Picking it up, I turned it over in my hands, the fabric soft against my fingertips.

  I’d already booked in another meeting with a Strangers employee, same time next week. And this blindfold would be for her.

  Except...

  Discomfort twisted in my gut, and it took me a little while to realise that the discomfort was reluctance. That I wasn’t happy with the thought of another woman putting it on. Another woman sitting in that chair. Another woman following my orders and loving everything I did to her...

  No, it wasn’t just reluctance. The thought left me cold. Absolutely fucking cold.

  You don’t want another woman.

  I found myself looking towards the bedroom, where Vesta was all curled up, naked and beautiful and so heartbreakingly desirable I could feel myself getting hard yet again just thinking about her.

  No, of course I didn’t want another woman. I wanted her.

  I wanted her to be here next Friday. And maybe the Friday after that too, and maybe for the next month of Fridays. Just her. Only her. I wouldn’t even have bothered to second-guess myself if it hadn’t been for those soft words whispered to me before she’d fallen asleep in my arms.

  I love you.

  This wasn’t just another Friday for her. It wasn’t just a night of great sex. It was her fantasy—I was her fantasy. She’d saved herself for me. She loved me, but she wasn’t going to demand anything of me. I knew that already. Knew that when tomorrow came, and I said goodbye to her, she wouldn’t protest. She’d turn away and walk out of that door because she wouldn’t want to put any expectations on me, not like my parents had.

  But that just seemed...wrong.

  Vesta had been denied the things she’d wanted all her goddamned life, by her parents and to some extent Traj. But being denied had never stopped her from fighting for her dreams. From going out there and getting them for herself. That college degree and her business, for example. She was a fighter—that was true.

  But why should she have to fight for this when I could simply give it to her?

 
I could tell her that I wanted more, that one night wasn’t enough. That maybe we should try another night, or maybe more. Maybe we should go out on a date or two. Or maybe even three. See how it went.

  Would that make her happy?

  You know what she really wants.

  I turned away from the bedroom abruptly, striding to the bathroom. I flicked on the shower and, not bothering to wait for it to heat, stepped under the water.

  It was cold, icy on the parts of my skin that still had sensation, but I didn’t shiver.

  Love. That was what she wanted. That was all Vesta had ever wanted.

  But love was demanding. It was pressure. It was injuring yourself and not saying a thing because you didn’t want to disappoint your parents. It was playing on that same knee for years, ignoring the pain because things had gone too far now, and two people’s entire future rested on you and your ability to play some goddamned game well.

  It was going into a burning building and rescuing someone, and then being left to agony in a hospital bed, because even though you’d saved their life they still felt you’d failed them in some way.

  Yeah, love was a burn that never healed, no matter how many times you grafted new skin over it, and I wasn’t doing that again. Never fucking ever.

  So, no. I couldn’t give her that.

  But I could give her great sex and company. I could give her some smiles. I could make her laugh. I could...help her.

  That would be enough, surely?

  It won’t be. You know that.

  But I shoved the thought away as I headed back to the bedroom, getting into bed with her again and gathering her close, pressing my face to the back of her neck. Inhaling the scent of musk and candy floss and Vee.

  It would be enough.

  It would have to be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Vesta

  I WOKE TO the smell of pancakes and bacon and really good coffee.

  For a minute I lay there, trying to reorient myself, my brain still cloudy from one of the best sleeps I’d ever had, the night before slowly coming back to me.

  A blindfold. A chair. Pleasure. Losing my virginity...

  Eli.

  Warmth filled me in a wave, wrapping me up in its arms and holding me tight.

  I’d spent the night with the man I’d loved since I was sixteen. I’d lost my virginity to him the way I’d always wanted. And it had been so good. It had been amazing.

  But a night is all you’ll ever have, and now it’s over.

  The wave of warmth receded, leaving me high and dry, and suddenly cold.

  Of course it was over. He didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him, and I was certain of it. And I couldn’t ask him for more. I couldn’t pin all my hopes on him the way his parents had done. Couldn’t force him to be what I wanted him to be. I had to let him be himself...and he was hurt.

  It didn’t matter. I’d known going in that we’d only ever have one night, so I couldn’t be sad about it now. Still, I wasn’t sure I wanted to sit there eating breakfast with him, watching the minutes tick by as our time together slowly ran out. That felt as if it would be a lesson in torture to me.

  Slowly, I got out of bed. I visited the bathroom, had a quick shower, then pulled on my dress. It was creased from spending a night on the bathroom floor, but there was nothing to be done about that.

  My sandals were in the bedroom, so I put them on, taking my time. But I was only drawing out the inevitable, and I knew it. And soon there was no more dressing to be done, leaving me with nothing to do but walk out into the living area of the suite.

  The little dining table had been set with a white tablecloth, the morning light gleaming off silver cutlery and glinting off crystal glasses, sliding over beautiful white plates. A spray of pink roses sat in a silver vase. There was food on the table too—fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon and maple syrup and pastries. Orange juice and coffee.

  And Eli.

  He sat there at the table dressed in his black suit, the black shirt he wore underneath open at the neck. The light fell over him, turning his short hair and the tips of his lashes bright gold, reflecting the same hints of gold deep in his eyes. His mouth curved as he saw me, a ghost of that easy, slow-burning smile that used to make my heart leap.

  Still had the same effect, judging from the tightness in my chest.

  ‘Hungry?’ he asked. ‘Thought you might like some food.’

  It was beautiful, the set table and the roses—my favourite flowers—the kind of food I liked. And the man I wanted, more than I’d ever wanted anything in my entire life, was sitting there waiting to enjoy breakfast with me.

  And for a moment I let myself imagine having this every morning. Having him every morning for the rest of our lives. I’d sit down with him and we’d eat and talk. Or maybe we wouldn’t talk. We’d simply eat and read the paper together in companionable silence. And then maybe we’d go back to bed again, lose some hours in each other’s arms...

  I wanted it. I wanted it so badly, it was pain.

  But I knew it wasn’t going to happen and suddenly the idea of sitting here with him, pretending that it would, was more than I could bear.

  I shook my head, tearing my gaze from his as I scanned the room for my purse. ‘Love to, but I gotta run. There’s a few things I need to do this morning.’

  ‘Surely you can stay for breakfast?’

  I went over to the chair I’d sat in the night before, very carefully not looking at him, spotting my purse beside it. ‘No, sorry. Really, I have to go.’

  I didn’t hear him move, but when I straightened up and turned he was right in front of me, his expression intent. ‘Vesta,’ he said.

  My throat closed. ‘What?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing. I just have to run—’

  ‘I don’t want you to go.’

  My heart shuddered to a stop. ‘I...’

  ‘I want to sit down and have breakfast with you. And I want to discuss maybe having this night again.’ Gold gleamed suddenly in the depths of his eyes. ‘Or maybe having a number of nights. Perhaps we could even go on a date, or a few dates. See what happens.’

  This night again. And maybe more than once. A date or two... See what happens...

  I swallowed. I’d expected a goodbye...not this. ‘You really want more?’

  ‘Yes.’ He took a step forward, coming closer. ‘It was good, Vee. Better than anything I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something. And I want it again. I want you again.’

  Oh, I could see it. Another night with him—a date, even. Us together for however long that might be.

  But it’s not what you want.

  It was more than I’d expected. More than I’d ever thought I’d have from him. But... I looked up at him, into his perfect face, the white lick of the scar marring the golden skin of his throat.

  One night. One morning. A few dates, more nights... No, it wouldn’t be enough.

  I didn’t want another night with him, or even more nights, or more dates. I didn’t want to ‘see how it went.’ I already knew how it went. I’d been living it for the last nine years, spending my soul on wishes, prayers and hope that he’d feel for me what I felt for him. Yet, despite all those wishes and prayers, all that hope, getting nothing back.

  It was what I’d been doing even before that too. Trying so hard to please my parents, surviving on the scraps of attention they gave me and hoping for more, yet never getting it.

  Well, I was tired of it. Tired of trying so hard just to be worthy of someone’s notice. Tired of desperately holding on to someone who clearly wasn’t interested. I didn’t want to go back to that. I didn’t want to be sending message after message into a black hole of silence. Calling someone who never answered and who never called back. Giving my heart over and over again to a man
who didn’t want it.

  I wanted nothing less than love because, Jesus Christ, after so long, didn’t I deserve it?

  My heart felt sore, my throat tight.

  ‘No,’ I said, forcing the words out. ‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

  A muscle leapt in his jaw. ‘Why not?’

  I had only the truth to give him.

  ‘I don’t want another night. I don’t want a date. I don’t want to see how it goes.’ I held his gaze, letting him see what was in mine. ‘I’ve spent a long time being unloved and unnoticed. Having people not really give a shit about me or what I do. And for a long time I told myself that I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, because I didn’t need anyone.’

  I took a step forward so I was close to him. ‘But I do need someone. I need you, Eli Hart. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t want to put anything on you, but you should know that. And I’m not refusing because my feelings have changed.’ I took a little breath. ‘I’m refusing because I’ve changed. I don’t want to settle any more, Eli. I don’t want to settle for less. I’ve been settling all my life and I’m not doing it any more.’

  He’d gone very still, tension in every line of him. ‘So, what do you want?’

  ‘You really have to ask me?’ I searched his beautiful face. ‘What I’ve always wanted. You. But not for a night and not for a couple of dates. I don’t want to have you but not really have you. I want your heart and, if you can’t give it to me, then I understand. I’m not going to force you.’ I swallowed, straightening. ‘But I’m not going to settle for less than that.’

  ‘Vesta...’ My name was a hoarse scrape of sound. ‘I can’t. What you’re asking... I can’t give.’

  It wasn’t a surprise. He’d barely thought of me in years, so why would one night of great sex change his mind? Yet, even though I’d expected it, the pain bit deep.

  ‘Of course you can’t,’ I said. ‘You forgot I existed for nine years, after all. But I never forgot, Eli. And I never stopped loving you. And...it’s time for me to move on.’ My heart had grown spines, stabbing into me, hurting, but I was used to the pain and I hardened myself against it. ‘This night was all about laying the ghost of you, and I have. I’ll remember it for ever, Eli. But...’