Page 36 of Dark Christmas
He grins, that dangerous smirk that both terrifies and thrills me. “That’s exactly what turns you on, isn’t it?”
I’m speechless. No man has ever dared to speak to me like this, especially not a lady of my station. His words shock me to my core, leaving me momentarily frozen.
Without another word, he moves in and effortlessly scoops me up, cradling me against his chest as he strides toward the bed. My pulse quickens even more, my breathing shallow.
“What are you going to do?”
His eyes gleam with dark intent as he lays me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine. “I’m going to do what you’ve been fantasizing about since we met,” he growls, his voice thick with desire.
I want to protest, to deny it, but I can’t. He’s got me pegged, reading my every thought like an open book. Before I can find the words to argue, his hands are on me, sliding up my dress, moving along the curve of my thigh, sending shivers up my spine.
When his hand reaches my slip, my body arches against him, a moan slipping from my lips. I’ve never been touched like this before, and every inch of me is aching for more.
His fingers tease my womanhood, exploring me in a way no one ever has. My body becomes alight with want, a frenzy of need building inside me, and I can see the dark satisfaction in his eyes as he watches me come undone beneath his touch. He loves the control he has over me.
“What do you want?” he growls, his voice low and thick with dominance.
I can’t help it; the words slip from my lips before I can stop them.
“I want more. More of this. More of you.”
His smirk widens, and he climbs on top of me, his weight pressing me into the bed as he grinds his manhood against me. The heat between us is unbearable, and my hands move on their own, undoing the front of his pants. The moment his hardness leaps into my hand, I moan, my body trembling with anticipation. I guide him to my entrance, ready for him to take me completely.
He begins to slide in, and—
CLANG!
A loud crash jolts me back to reality.
A damn garbage truck slams its way down the street below. I blink, shaking my head, and realize I’m in my writing room, fully dressed, laptop open in front of me. I stare down at the page, the scene I’d been crafting vivid and intense, so real I’d forgotten where I was for a moment.
"Jesus," I mutter to myself. Talk about being in the zone.
I stand up and stretch, feeling the satisfying pop in my back. A smile spreads across my face as I glance at my laptop. Holy shit, I’ve written more in the last few weeks since moving in than I have all year. I lean back in my chair, grinning.
“Thanks for the inspo,” I mutter to myself, thinking of the handsome, brooding man I’m currently living with. Melor, the muse behind my fictional Duke Allsbrook—a deadly, sexy force of nature.
I take a moment to look around my writing room. It’s perfect. There’s greenery everywhere, potted plants on the windowsill, ivy trailing down the bookshelves that are packed with every writing guide I need. The napping couch has been a lifesaver, allowing me to regroup and reset whenever I need to.
But honestly, the real game-changer has been Melor. He’s made sure I don’t want for anything. Whether it’s coffee, food, a new writing guide or notebook, it just magically appears. It’s like having a personal assistant that looks like he just stepped out of aGQspread.Oh, and is also a trained killer.
I laugh to myself. If I could only forget that pesky little detail about my life being in constant danger, this setup would be downright dreamy.
As I make my way to the second floor, I catch myself thinking about the last few weeks. It’s been a weird mix of normal and completely surreal. For instance, last night I made dinner for Melor. Nothing fancy, just baked chicken and roasted potatoes, but he seemed to love it. It felt so… domestic.
After dinner we watched the movieCrazy, Stupid, Love,laughing at the ridiculousness of Ryan Gosling trying to coach Steve Carell into being a ladies’ man. It actually felt like we were in a real relationship, not just two people hiding out, especially seeing as we had sex afterward.
I shiver at the memory, smiling to myself as I save my work and close my laptop. There was a moment last night when he was on top of me, his hand sliding between my thighs, his fingers doing that thing that makes me lose my mind. He kept a slow, torturous pace, whispering in my ear, telling me how he loved the way I was falling apart beneath him.
And then, just when I couldn’t take it anymore, he moved faster, and I came so hard I swear I saw stars.
It’s been easy at times to forget the danger lurking outside these walls, the reason I’m even here.
My phone buzzes, yanking me away from my thoughts. It’s Claire. I can already feel the excitement in her as I answer.
“Amelia! How’s the class going? Tell me everything!”
I bite my lip, scrambling to come up with false details. “Oh, it’s amazing,” I say, keeping it short and sweet so as not to trip myself up in more lies. “I’m learning a lot.”