My gasp sounds loud in the quiet library. I turn around in the circle of Alistair’s arms and bury my face in his throat, no idea what to say, what to do. Only knowing I’m here in this moment to give him comfort.
“He coerced my mother and sisters into voting for me. They were dependent on his meager income and our life…it was survival of the fittest. When my father pulled over to the side of the road and threw me out into the rain, they cried and apologized, but their words didn’t mean a thing, did they? The vote, the betrayal, still stood. So I never apologize, Shelby. Actions are what matter.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I whisper into his shoulder, heat prickling the insides of my eyelids. “I hate it.”
“No, angel. You leave the hating to me.” He strokes my hair. “You’re too…good for an emotion so ugly. You’re too good for…what I did to your innocent mouth.” His hand closes around the length of my blonde hair, winding it around his fist and pulling firmly, making me whimper. “You’re going to make me want to be a better man, aren’t you? Goddammit, Shelby.” He inhales against my throat. “Goddamn you.”
“You’re already a better man,” I whisper. “You just scare people away so they can’t hurt you anymore.”
“Why isn’t it working with you?” he says hoarsely, bringing our lips an inch apart. “Why…don’t I really want it to work?”
“I don’t know,” I say, unable to tear my attention off his sculpted, masculine mouth. “But I’m so glad.”
We stare at each other for long moments, our breaths growing more and more labored, his large sex thickening against my stomach. Rapidly.
Likewise, pivotal events are taking place all over my body. I’m wet and achy between my legs, my nipples are in pain from being hard so long. But the most intense of all is the reaction of my heart to having Alistair expose himself to me emotionally. To hearing him being honest, vulnerable. All those times I yearned for him while sitting in my tree and finally, I have access to what’s on the inside. It’s deeper and more damaged than I could have imagined—and all I want is more of him. I want him to take more of me in return.
It’s in that moment, when he leans in to kiss me, that I remember what I’m really doing here. I’m here to offer my body in exchange for leniency with my family.
If I tell him that now, right after his confession, he will hate me.
Oh God. What should I do?
My hesitation causes a line to form between Alistair’s brows. He opens his mouth to say something, but at the same moment, Pauline’s voice rings out.
“Please excuse the intrusion. I have a brownie for Miss Shelby.”
Alistair’s jaw flexes, but he nods. “Very well, you will eat now,” he rasps, using his grip on my hair to bring my ear to his mouth. “But after that, little girl. I’m going to eat you right up.”
Chapter 6
Alistair
This house feels different with her inside of it.
I’ve never wanted to be around another person…at all.
Let alone so fucking badly. She’s like a steady heartbeat in the middle of a gale, the purity of it, the reassurance of her, drawing me closer. Closer.
I thought telling her about my past might make her understand why I’m such a bastard—and why I’ll continue to be one. But she clammed up when I tried to kiss her. Have I ruined anything that might happen between us? If I could turn back the clock an hour and change my actions, I would. I’d allow the perfect exploration of her mouth on my cock without turning it into something forceful.
Better yet, I’d go down on her instead.
My dick is already hard from being close to Shelby, but it swells painfully when I think of getting my tongue between her thighs. Now that will be an effective apology. Far better than words. But first, I have another impulse that is entirely unlike me. I want to…be sensitive with this girl. Whatever the hell that means. As she revealed downstairs, she knows nothing about sex and knowing that, I should have taken more time to introduce her to the needs of the flesh.
“Thank you, Pauline,” I say briskly. “You may leave the brownie and go.”
My housekeeper does as I ask, setting the plated dessert on a side table next to one of the couches in the center of the library, bustling from the room again without a word. With my hand on the small of Shelby’s back, I guide her to the couch and sit her down. Then I pick up the plate and take the spot immediately beside her, carving out a bite onto the fork and dipping it in whipped cream.