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“I like you,” I said. “To me, you will always be perfect. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not sorry that you have to struggle. Does...does that make sense?”
His eyes went soft and he pulled me into his lap, cradling my head against his chest.
“It makes perfect sense, cariad,” he murmured.
Neither of us felt much like talking anymore, so we finished our whiskey and ice cream. I lay beside him, curled in the heat of his body. Feeling his chest rise and fall. His breath kissed over my face and his fingers stroked through my hair.
“Clara?”
I kept still.
“Yes?”
“I killed twelve men with my bare hands in the arena so I could be the Welsh King.”
There was faint tightness in the center of my chest and nothing more. The soft caress of his hands overwhelmed everything. Even fear.
“I thought so,” I whispered.
He kissed the back of my neck and his breath burned to my core.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MERRICK
We didn’t speak of the intense sex or my confession again.
Instead, we kept going on the same trajectory. Fucking, eating, and fucking some more before passing out in bed. It was easier to talk with our bodies than our mouths.
Although, I did let my mouth do a lot of the talking between her legs. Her pussy made all the noise in my head stop. It focused me. Gave me something that was positive and without pressure.
It was beautiful. Slightly pink with a freckle on the hood of her clit that I hadn’t noticed until halfway through the week. I kissed it every time I took her panties down. And every time, she shuddered and squirmed.
She wasn’t judging me or making me perform. And she didn’t mind that sometimes when I woke, unable to sleep, all I wanted was to put my face between her legs until I passed out.
The snow melted and there was light flooding. We stayed an extra day and didn’t bother to put our clothes on. I kept her on her back with her legs open. Taking my mouth, my cock, my fingers. Her spine rolling through her orgasms until she begged for mercy.
Then it was all over.
Then, without warning, we were home. Standing in the cold hallway with our suitcases.
In shock.
“I…I’ll go unpack,” I said.
She made a noise in her throat and I turned at the end of the hall and looked back. Her eyes glittered with tears and her knuckles were white. Gripping her suitcase because she had nothing else to hold onto.
“Merrick.”
“Clara, we promised,” I said.
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
I took a breath, forcing my feet to keep still. If I took her in my arms, it was all over. I would take her up to my bed and fuck her, kiss her, and tell her I would never let her sleep alone again.
“Clara,” I said, my voice tight. “I can’t be the only one who breaks this off. You said it was just for the week. We both have to hold to that.”
She swallowed, nodding.
