Page 42 of Secrets of the Brother
I felt the hesitant press of her teeth just over my heart.
I pounded into her. “Bite me, Bianca!” I commanded.
She sank her teeth into my flesh but without breaking the skin.
In that moment, I came.
I pressed her head against my heart as I released my hot come deep inside of her. My body jerking with each violent spasm. Relishing the sharp sting of pain from her teeth. Hoping it scarred.
She collapsed on top of me.
I wrapped my arms around her, clasping her to me.
Neither of us spoke.
The only sound in the room was our harsh, mingled breaths.
After several minutes, I gently slid her beside me on the bed and left the room.
I crossed the hall into the bathroom I had finished refurbishing.
In its center was a massive, slightly chipped, antique porcelain claw-footed tub. I turned the polished brass spigots and tested the water until it was the perfect temperature. I then placed the stopper in the drain to fill it so she could take a bath.
Before leaving the bathroom, I paused and stared into the mirror.
Over my heart were two tiny red crescent-shaped bite marks.
When I returned to the bedroom, she was wrapped in a blanket leaning against the headboard, her knees drawn up to her chest.
Her eyes were wide. Her expression drawn.
She flicked her eyes down my chest to my open jeans and back up to the bite mark on my chest.
I pulled my jeans up over my hips and raised the zipper. I then stepped toward the bed.
She stiffened.
I stilled.
She clutched the blanket more firmly around her shoulders. “What we just did…what just happened…it can never happen again.” She swiped at a fresh tear on her cheek. “This whole situation.Us.It’s toxic. It’s fucked up. It’s not healthy.” Her gaze swept over the rumpled and stained sheets. “It nearly broke me getting over you. I can’t go through that pain again.”
I stood there and watched her.
There was nothing I could say.
I wasn’t going to apologize because it would be a lie.
I was sorry for how it happened, but I wasn’t the least bit sorry ithadhappened. If that made me a monster, then so be it. I was already headed to hell for so many other things, I would gladly skip down that path for this one.
I fisted my hand. But at what cost? I would rather cut off an arm than cause her more pain, and yet every fiber of my being raged at the idea of letting her go.
She stared at me for several heartbeats.
When I remained silent, she lowered her head. She then got off the bed and, keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around her shoulders, swept past me into the hall. She crossed to the bathroom, where the water for the hot bath I had drawn for her was still running.
She turned to face me. Her dark eyes were filled with tears. “Loving you is a weakness, Enzo, not a strength.”
With that she closed the door.
