Page 94 of Bene

High again.

Wishing she could change everything again.

Because soon the bliss would leave.

She knew it as he pulled out of her, rolled her over, spread her wide, and came right back to fuck her again. As she stared up at Bene while he held her thighs opened, and watched, enraptured, by the way his cock filled her full …

Soon, this would end.

She’d be good for a moment.

Then, she wouldn’t.

Because she’d have to face what she’d done here.

That she fell in love with a man she was supposed to hate.

That her misdeeds would hurt a man she loved.

She’d done this.

It couldn’t be fixed.

Vanna blinked awake in the bedroom, the vaulted, gray ceiling staring back at her from her position on the bed. On her back, with sheets tangled around her legs, and Bene’s arm tight around her middle, the room still smelling like their sex, and her body warm from his close proximity … well, it was the best way to wake up.

And on another night, if everything was different, it would have been the perfect way for her to wake up. She would have rolled over, tucked her face into Bene’s chest, pretended like morning was never going to come, and went back to sleep.

But she couldn’t do that.

Not when her mind ran a million miles a minute, bouncing from one thing to the next, all her mistakes and misdeeds warring with one another while her guilt climbed on top of all of it to roar and make itself known, too.

Who knew what it was?

Maybe it was the fact that Vanna was weak. That she had a heart—emotions and real feelings. That she couldn’t be cold, and see these people, their family, and the life they made for themselves behind their closed doors the same way her father had. She didn’t see monsters. Yes, they were bad people who did bad things, and the past had been colored a bright, violent red by those same things … but this was now.

Or maybe it was the fact that Vanna wasn’t made to fulfill a vendetta for a lot of the same reasons, and others, too.

None of it even mattered.

She couldn’t do this.

She shouldn’t be here.

What was she doing?

Tipping her head to the side on the pillow, Vanna found Bene still sleeping peacefully. Like this, the hard lines of his handsome face smoothed out, and he looked almost boyish. Still sexy, and everything bad for her heart.

Still hers.

Because that was the thing.

Somehow, this man felt like hers.

He became hers.

Sure, he hadn’t said it. Never breathed those three little words that would inevitably change everything between them, but he didn’t really have to, either. Love wasn’t words, she knew. Love was a feeling—a promise, and a loyalty to another soul. Love was so much bigger than just words, and if she continued to let this go on … it was going to be so much worse than what it already was, and that was her fault, too.

Vanna did this.