Only You (Sweet Torment 2)

“How do I—” my voice cracked. I didn’t know what to do other than ask him how to help. How could I take this from him? How could I be what he needed me to be? It was stupid. I should go, let him grieve. Because in the end, I could offer nothing, and I knew it.

I let go of his shirt and took a step back. “I should be going,” I whispered, thinking it was for the best. He didn’t need me, because there was nothing I could provide.

His eyes shot to mine with so much venom it could have poisoned me from across the room.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, straightening his shoulders and taking one step toward me. “Don’t you dare walk away from me when you want to stay. Not again.”

I gasped and my whole body froze. “Leo, I don’t think—”

“Stop. You always think. If you leave, do it because you want to.” He took another step. “Do you feel anything?” His voice was harsh and made me shiver.

“Of course I feel.”

“Really? Because every time I think you do, you go and prove me wrong.”

“That’s an awful thing to say.”

“It’s an awful thing to feel, Paige!” He ran his hands through his hair. “You have me chasing you and I should fucking know by now you’re a runner. You’re the very thing I learned not to pursue, and yet here you are, holding my damn heart in your fist like all this is a game.”

“It’s not a game,” I defended.

Heat surged from my toes to my ears and everything I wanted, everything I ran from, and all the emotions and fear and sadness I’d felt for years flooded to the surface.

“You’re the one who has me in your hands, Leo. I fucking hate it.” I stepped toward him. “What do you want from me to make today better? To admit I want to stay? I do! So much. All the time. You make me feel . . .” My throat closed a little and the next word hurt so much to say. “Wanted.” I shook my head. “But I’m not what you need. I’m . . . temporary.” And the thought made me sick inside.

He walked toward me and didn’t stop until his chest was against mine and his hand on the belt of my coat. “You have one thing right, Red”—he tore open my jacket—“I do want you. So much it actually hurts.”

Cupping my face, he seized my mouth and kissed me hard and deep. Shucking my coat off my shoulders, he gripped me tighter and my knees buckled. He followed me down, laying me across the plush rug in the middle of the floor.

I pulled at his shirt and finally got it off of him. He tossed my heels off and in one fluid motion, yanke

d my nightdress over my head, leaving me in only my panties.

His mouth fastened to my breasts and he sucked hard. Without leaving my skin, he got his pants off and kicked my legs apart with his knees. Everything about him was primal.

The last time we were together, I sated my lust and my emotions on him, and he let me. Let me take him how I needed. Let me feel that control. Tonight he needed me. I felt it deep in my soul. I wanted to be whatever he needed. Trusted him with everything.

Reaching for his pants, he quickly got a condom and put it on.

“Need you now, angel,” he rasped.

I nodded, needing him too. Ready to burst from the intensity. He licked his fingertips and touched my core, wetting me slightly. Then he was over me. His strong arms on either side of my head, biceps bulging, and in one powerful thrust, he entered me.

I cried out to the ceiling both with the shock of the tight fit and pure, raw lust.

He muttered something in Greek and I clung to him. There was nothing slow. Nothing sweet about this. It was raw. Hungry. Angry. Not with each other, but with the world. With things that couldn’t be changed.

I clawed at his back. Locked my legs around his hips and squeezed.

He growled and thrust harder, deeper, faster. But it wasn’t enough. For either of us.

As if reading my mind, he grated, “More,” and sat back on his haunches.

Never leaving my body, he straightened on his knees and gripped my waist. My shoulders were still on the rug but he lifted my hips off the floor and held them flush against his. At this angle, he hit me deeper than I ever thought possible. An instant zing of intense pleasure pulsed from the darkest depths of my core to my entire body. No one had ever been so close . . . in any way.

Holding me against him, he fucked me hard. Deep. Taking his time to stir his hips and hit every part of me. I reached out, panting and moaning, needing to grab onto him, but all I could reach was his stomach.

His abs flexed so hard he looked made of steel. I ran my fingernails down his torso, leaving a trail of red welts in their wake. He hissed and pounded harder.