This is nothing, I want to tell her. Wait until you feel what’s next.
She has no idea what she’s in for, and though it’s all good things in my mind, I feel a sudden unwelcome pang of guilt just as I’m about to unzip her shorts. My defenses go up. I’ve no reason to feel guilty. I warned her. She knows who I am and what I’m after. So why do I feel the need to warn her again?
“My parents were soul mates in heaven,” she’d told me. She’d been created in love by an angel and a demon who were separated because of others’ lies and deceit. She is nothing like me. She gives all her money away to needy strangers, and has a heart for the downtrodden.
Who cares? Keep going, you bloody fool, before she changes her mind!
I never let myself think of how the girl will feel afterward while I’m working, but this doesn’t feel like a job. I don’t want it to be a job. I shove my inner work voice aside and give her one last warning.
“Now would be the time to stop me, luv. You’re about to be undressed, and trust me when I say it will be too late after that.”
She’s going to stop me now. I know it, and I feel a sense of relief. I kiss her stomach one last time while I can, so grateful to be this close to her for these fleeting moments.
And then she says in a sultry voice, “No, Kai. Don’t stop.”
I freeze. She’s giving permission.
Don’t stop.
I have to kiss the mouth that said those words. When I do, our bodies move together, and she’s clinging to me, rocking me from the inside out. And though there’s clothing between us, it’s the most sensual and satisfying thing I’ve ever experienced.
My chest swells with an abundance of that feeling only Anna can give me. It overpowers the beast inside me with its luminescence. A single thought echoes through my mind: it’s time to stop. I don’t even understand why. Clearly, Anna is ready. She has told me as much, and her body is screaming it, rubbing against me in a way that makes me want to explode.
It’s time to stop.
“We . . . ,” I mumble. “Baby, I . . . we have to . . .” Stop.
I am baffled by this thought. It’s as if it’s coming from a greater power outside me. With sudden clarity I know Anna will regret this spontaneous decision to sleep with me, for reasons I can’t begin to understand, but I know. Something will not be right if we do this. The sureness of it is enough to scare the shite out of me.
I shake my head. My entire body goes stiff and I try to lift myself, but Anna has ahold of me, and she’s whimpering for more like a needy little vixen.
I have to momentarily close my eyes against the sight of her.
“We can’t,” I whisper.
“Kai?” The sound of the surprise and hurt in her voice kills me. I want to give her what she wants—what we both want.
It’s time to stop.
I want so badly to ignore this stupid fucking feeling of intuition, or whatever the hell it is, and take this girl with every ounce of strength in my body, but I don’t dare. I’ve never had a feeling this strong and clear. When I attempt to move off her, she tightens her hold around my waist. Her back arches underneath me again, lifting her hips to mine in the most agonizing way. I am about to lose all control.
“Damn it, Ann, please! Don’t. Move.”
Our gazes collide, and we’re both panting with unsated need. She’s gorgeous and so bloody hot for me that I have to look away.
And move. Quickly. I get my arse off the bed, and immediately that overpowering sense of intuition leaves me, and it’s just me and the beast. Scorching pain racks me from thigh to stomach, and my head gives a giant throb. I grab my hair, pacing—I can’t stay still. What have I done to myself? It feels as if I might die. I try to shake away the excruciating headache that makes me barely able to open my eyes, but it’s no use.
“You don’t want me.” Anna’s small voice shoots straight through my ears and down to my core, making me groan with animalistic longing. Her eyes water and she looks lost.
Can she not see how I want to ravish her like the devil I am? I like to think of the beast and myself as separate entities, but I’m fooling myself. We are one and the same. Right now I want to give in to my darkest urges, throwing caution and gentleness aside, shredding every scrap of cloth between us, and overpowering her body with mine to see how loud her sweet voice can get.
“Don’t do that,” I struggle to say. “That was the single most difficult thing I’ve done in my entire life.”
I stand, trying to clear my head.
“I don’t understand, then,” she whispers.
No, no she doesn’t. And neither do I.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? And don’t think for a second I don’t want you—” I push my knuckles against my pounding forehead. “But it shouldn’t be like this.”
“Like what?” she asks.
Everything is wrong. I don’t even know how to explain it. I’m so bloody frustrated. Why is she asking me these questions? Is she blind to the kind of person she is, and the kind I am? None of this is good enough for her.
“Uncommitted,” I say. “In a hotel room.”
“Then commit.” Her voice is resolute. As if it’s that simple.
I throw my arms out, at a loss. “I can’t!” That is not my life, and will never be. She can try to slum it with me all she wants, and fool herself into thinking it’s okay, but I know the difference between us. Eventually, she will, as well.