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“You honestly think this is easy for me? All this time,” he rationalized, looking deep into my eyes. “I thought you were my savior. Turns out, you could possibly be my demise.”
“I’m far from your guardian angel, Luke.”
And with that, he simply stated, “The devil was an angel once.”
He was over to me in two long strides, backing me up against the headboard.
I thought he was going to kiss me.
Touch me.
But he did none of those things. He took one last hard look at me, then turned, and left.
If I screamed for Nav to come free me, I’d only be making things worse between them, and the asshole knew it too.
I reluctantly turned off the light and lay down to try to pass out. The handcuff made it nearly impossible to get comfortable, so I tossed and turned, restless and dazed.
The tornado of emotions lingered in the room, in the air, in my soul.
Long after he left, his words still pounded in my head, over and over again. Not letting up until sleep finally won. It didn’t matter how many times I racked my brain for answers.
The man was already engrained in my heart.
I dreamed of the way his strong arms felt around me.
Engulfing me in nothing but his warm body.
His weight on top of me.
The reassuring words he always spoke in my ear.
“Sloan,” he whispered in my ear.
I swear it felt so real, so true, so consuming, like he was right there with me. I didn’t want to wake up.
I felt his lips on my neck, softly kissing me, making his way up to my mouth. I stirred, fluttering my eyes open. Blinking away the sleepy haze, I tried to focus. My eyes adjusted to the light cascading off the moon from the sliding glass doors.
“Luke?” I sleepily asked. “I was just dreaming about you.”
“Is that right?”
His eyes held so much emotion.
His sincere expression was almost hard to follow.
All I could see was pain.
My heart ached to see him broken.
I missed his smile, his laughter, his love.
I could physically feel his saddened glare on my face as he lay on top of me. Feeling it so much more than I could have ever imagined. Almost like I could touch it.
In the beat of a drum, he handcuffed my other wrist to the iron headboard.
I gasped, surprised but also immediately turned the fuck on.
I was never one for bondage. I hated not being in control. I avoided it at all costs, but sometimes it couldn’t be prevented. Each time, I’d hide within myself.
