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“I’m not trying to. I’m trying to be with you just as you are.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he says, making a sound of frustration. “You’re extremely stubborn, you know that?”
“Yep.”
“Brielle?”
“Yes, Sylar.”
“Come here,” he growls, pushing me back on the bed and kissing me hungrily. I run my fingers down his bare back, wishing my T-shirt was off, so I could feel his bare skin against mine. But I’ll take what I can get. My breasts press against his chest and I can feel my nipples pebble. I’m so turned on, but it’s up to him to make the move, to take what he wants, because I don’t want to push him into doing something that he regrets afterwards. I might not be the most patient woman in the world, but I know Sylar is different to other men.
He breaks the kiss and looks down at me. “I love kissing you.”
I smile and reach up to touch his face. “Me too.”
“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who can test my resolve,” he whispers, then shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you, Brielle?”
Love me?
Fuck me?
Never let me go?
I could name a few things, not that I’d vocalize any of them.
I kiss him in answer, pulling him down on me, loving the feel of his weight. He lets me roll him over onto his back so I’m on top. His eyes never leave me, and I like that. It’s intense, and it’s powerful. I feel so giddy when he looks at me like that, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like he’s so fascinated and amazed by my mere presence. To see that in the eyes of a man so rough around the edges, so guarded, is something I’ll never forget.
“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” I tell him. “They were the first thing I noticed about you.”
His lips kick up at the corners in obvious amusement.
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t think I’ve heard the word beautiful being applied to me in my life,” he says in a low tone, his hands running down my back. “You’re something else, Brielle. You bring out a side of me I didn’t even know existed.” He pauses, then says, “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
I know exactly what he means.
“Me either,” I reply with full honesty, and I don’t really know what it is. It’s more than just lust, than just mutual attraction.
It’s visceral.
That’s the only word I can use to try and explain it.
I climb beneath the sheets and he does the same. “I like having you in my bed.”
“I like being here,” he rumbles, pulling me into his arms. “Anywhere you are.”
I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.
*****
I wake up in the middle of the night, and Sylar isn’t in bed. I know he won’t like it if he thinks he woke me up, but I find myself getting up to see what he’s doing. I find him on the couch, TV on, in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts.
I’m pretty sure my face looks like the love heart eye emoji right now, because the view of him is one I could definitely get used to.
“Hey,” I say softly, my voice husky. I climb onto the couch and rest my head on his lap.
His fingers tangle in my hair as he gently massages my scalp until I’m about to fall back asleep. “I want to stay up with you,” I say, yawning.
