“You don’t need promises,” he scoffs at me before kissing the tender spot on my neck. Whispering at the shell of my ear he says, “You love it when I fuck you like I did tonight, though, don’t you?”
I can only hum in response, my body instantly responding to his as his warmth covers me. “You know why I love fucking you like I do?”
“Hmm?” is my only answer to him, as if I don’t care, as if it’s not a thought that keeps me up at night. He doesn’t answer until my eyes are on him.
“I love that I tame you.”
They say he fucks the wild out of me. He has me on a leash. I don’t know how or why, but he does.
“You’re saying love an awful lot tonight,” I murmur.
“Is that really why you’re acting differently? Because you love me?”
“Because I’m scared to love you.” Before he can respond I add, “To love anyone.”
“You can love me, Ella. I promise,” he tells me. “I’ll protect you, provide for you.”
My gaze drops to the moonlight spilling across the bedroom floor. I can’t look at him as the memories flash through my mind.
Promises, promises. Men give them out like candy. James whispers promises just like my father did to my mother.
Those promises he gave her that she fell for.
The promises he told before he killed her. And before I killed him.