Breaking Her (Love is War #2) (25 page)

She laughed, a sound of pure delight that reverberated through me, making my heart pound, reminding me that it was still a slave to her whims, damn her.
 
"Who would I confront?
 
And about what?
 
What do I know, do you suppose?
 
If I say I know everything, will you slip and tell me even more?"
 

I took strong exception to how much she was enjoying this.
 
"This isn't a game."
   

Her smile died a short death, leaving behind the quiet rage that had never really left.
 
"You think I don't know that?"
 
Her voice was so full of icy bitterness that I could taste it in my own mouth.
 
She could flay me alive with that tone, strip the skin from my bones.
 
"You think this was ever
fun
for me?
 
Being lied to?
 
Being
manipulated
?
 
But I won't be answering your questions anymore.
 
You'll be answering mine."
   

I didn't argue with her.
 
Instead, I toasted the air and finished my drink.
 

I think I'd have agreed to anything just then if it kept her from leaving.
 

If it meant she would keep coming back.
 

I'd reached my threshold on living without her.
 
As dangerous as it was, as much as it made my chest cold with fear, I was done staying away from her.
 

And,
God help me,
I didn't have the will to live with the lies anymore.

"So if I agree to answer your questions," I began, sometime later, charging bravely through the pregnant silence, determined to negotiate with her.
 

Compromising had always, ironically, been one of our strengths.
 

Ironic because two more prideful, stubborn souls had never walked the earth.
 

I think, and had always assumed, that it only worked because we were so devoted to each other.
   

We'd grown up as godless, savage creatures, believing in nothing so much as each other, and somehow it had always been enough.
 
When you can't imagine living without a person, of course you'll do what's necessary, concede when you have to, to keep the peace.
     

"You'll stay with me," I forged ahead.
 
"We'll be together."
   

She didn't answer for a long time, instead just looking at me, her eyes hard and unyielding.

I studied her back, taking in her dear face like I could never have enough.
 

Because I never could.
 

I was always obsessed with her.
 
It was one of the defining, consistent characteristics of my life.
 
Obsessed not just with her perfections, but also with her flaws.
 
Her stubborn pride even held a special place in my heart.
 
It had ruined me as a person in so many ways, but God did it get to me.
 
She took it to a level where, even when it was to your detriment, you almost had to admire it.
 

But I had reached my limit.
 
She would be compromising today.
 

We had lapsed into a staring contest, one I was determined to win.
 

I would have this from her.

And so I did.
 
She broke first, her hard eyes wavering, lids trembling for a heart-turning moment before they watered and she looked away.
 

"We've been at war for so long.
 
How do we just let that go?"
 
Her voice was tremulous from her loss.
 
It wasn't easy for her to concede defeat.
 
It never had been.
 

"We've been at war alright, but you just didn't see that we weren't supposed to be fighting each other.
 
It was
wrong
, but it's over now.
 
I'm not asking for everything at once.
 
I understand the damage that's been done here
more than anyone.
 
I'm just asking you to try.
 
Give me your time, every spare moment of it, and I'll give you some answers.

I had her.
 
I saw it.
 
In her clenched fists and quivering lips, I saw it.
       

I moved a step closer.
 

She braced but didn't move away.
 

I took another step.
 
She closed her eyes as my fingers traced over her brow.
 
Feather light, I stroked her temples, sliding my hands back to cup her head.

I gripped her hair with both hands and touched our foreheads together.
 
"You'll stay with me," I repeated.
 
"We'll be together."
 

I needed this to be very clear; a verbal confirmation.
 
There could be no miscommunications.
 
We'd had enough of those.
 

"And you'll tell me the truth?" she said in a vulnerable voice that gutted me far quicker than a razor sharp one could have.
   

"Yes.
 
Yes.
 
I'll answer your questions.
 
Your turn."

"I can't just let these things go.
 
I can't just forgive.
 
Not you, not me."

"I'm not asking you to," I explained.
 
My tone was calm and reasonable, my heart pounding like a stampede.
 
"I'm not that greedy or that delusional.
 
I asked you to be with me.
 
The rest can come later."

Her voice was barely audible in the quiet room, but piercing all the same.
 
"Yes.
 
I'll be with you."
 
She sounded uncertain and dismayed, but I'd take it.
   

My eyes shut tight in acute relief, and I held her like that for a time, our foreheads touching, my fingers gently rubbing her scalp.

I felt I could have stayed that way indefinitely, I was so grateful for the connection.

But then she touched me, her hands reaching up, stroking lightly from my wrists down to my elbows and back again.
   

And that was it.
 
Sweetness turned base.
     

Blood rushed through my body, my stomach clenching as lust kicked in, too overwhelming to deny.
   

It was an effort not to drag her down to the floor, or hell, push her to her knees.
 

I straightened instead, pulling away from her, and she opened her eyes.
 
They flitted from my face down to my bare chest.
 
I dragged a hand through my hair and watched the way every movement of my body caught her attention.
 

She licked her lips, and I twitched so hard that her gaze caught the movement darting farther down.
 
She sucked in a deep breath that made her breasts shift, which caught my gaze.
 
Her nipples were hard under her tight white cotton shirt.
 
Without even willing it, my hand moved to her, thumb tracing over one of the hard little nubs.
   

She sent me one long, sultry look, and lowered to her knees.
 

"Jesus," I said.
 
I steepled my hands at the crown of my head, eyes glued to her as she shrugged off her shirt, unclasped her bra, and slid it smoothly off.
 

She rubbed her face against me like a cat, using her nose to play with me through the sweats.
 
It was adorable and one of the most arousing things I'd ever witnessed.
 

My stomach clenched as she opened my sweatpants, dragging them down, freeing my heavy length to bob against her lush pink lips.
 

Jesus
.

She'd just sucked my tip into her mouth when I snapped out of my trance.
 

I tried twice before I found my voice.
 
"Wait.
 
Stop."
 

Me turning down head from Scarlett.
 

That had to be a first.

But I needed something else just then, and the urge was so realized, so
complete
that I never even considered denying it.
 
When I spoke, my voice was hoarse with all the words I couldn't find for a need so powerful it left me shaken.
 
"I need to be inside of you."

She laid her cheek against me, rolling her eyes up to look at mine.
 

"Let's go to the bedroom," I said thickly.
 

She didn't agree or disagree, so I pulled her up, lifting her under the arms and propping her on her feet.
 
I couldn't keep my hands to myself.
 
I palmed her breasts and watched her jaw go slack.
 

Fuck.
 
I let her go, taking a step away as I pushed my stiff length back into my pants.
 
"Bedroom.
 
I want you in the bedroom."
 

I turned, heading down the hallway, through the entryway, and up the double staircase.
 
I headed for the east wing of the house, aware every step that a topless Scarlett followed.

"This place is bigger than I thought," she observed, her tone neutral.
 

"Do you like it?"
 
I hoped so.
 
I'd purchased it with her personal preferences in mind.
 
Because it was for her.
     

"Sure."
 

At least it wasn't a no.

My mouth twisted wryly as I showed her our bedroom.
 
The house was for her.
 
The bedroom for me.
     

"Subtle," she said wryly.
 
The ceiling over the bed and every wall that wasn't a window was mirrored.
 

What can I say?
 
I like to watch.
   

"It's the first time we've had a house to ourselves.
 
I might have gone a little overboard."
 
Proving my own point, my eyes were on her in the mirror as I spoke.

She met my gaze, hers enigmatic.
 
"You planned this all along."
 

I shrugged.
 
It was too complicated to explain, the efforts I had gone to based on the most meager thread of hope.
 
And I was not in the mood to talk.
         

We were of a like mind, apparently, because she started peeling off her jeans without another word.

I shoved out of my sweats, my eyes glued to her, raking over her, devouring every inch of skin she bared.
 

When she was bare, I was on her, pushing her to the bed, straddling her, pressing my chest to hers, our warm flesh rubbing together, creating more friction than I needed to ignite.

I cupped her face in both hands and kissed her, shifting on top of her, wedging myself between her legs.
 
I pulled back to watch her face as I breached her, near mindless with need.
 

Abruptly and unexpectedly, she began to struggle, pushing me off her.
 
I moved back with a jerk, too stunned to protest.
 

"Not like that," she said, flushing.
 
She sat up, not looking me in the eye.
 
"Not face to face.
 
Not right now."
 

It stung, but I told myself it was fine.
 
She had given me so much in such a short time.
 
It was a miracle that she was even here.
 

Clearly, more time was needed for certain intimacies.
 
But if I worked on her long enough, she wouldn't hold back.
 
It was inevitable.
 
Left to our own devices, we would give each other everything, because that was the order of the universe.
 

I truly believed that.
     

I brushed off the sting and accommodated her.
 
I was too far gone to split hairs, my mind in a dark and primitive place that didn't particularly care about anything except getting balls deep inside of her and rutting like an animal.
 

She showed me just what she wanted by moving to a large chaise lounge that dominated the corner of the room closest to the shoe closet I hadn't yet shown her.
 
She climbed onto the cream-colored piece of furniture, getting on hands and knees, positioned right on the edge.
 

I didn't need to be told twice.
 
I was covering her back, arms reaching around to palm her breasts, my tip butting up against her entrance between one thumping heartbeat and the next.
 

I shut my eyes with that first drugging thrust.
 
She was wet, pliant, so I didn't hold back, jamming in to the hilt without preamble.
 
The noise that escaped me right as her wet heat covered the base of my shaft was more animal than human.
 
I was not a thinking being in that moment.
 

I was mindless.
 
Her
slave
.
     

I watched us in the mirrors, watched myself going in and out of her, watched my cock squeezing in and dragging out slowly, then faster, frenzied.
 
As soon as she began to get loud, close to her release, I slowed the rhythm again.

She was braced on all fours, her back arched, but her head was turned with mine, watching our bodies, never meeting my eyes no matter how long I stared at hers, trying to catch her gaze.