Chapter Thirty-Six - Weston
Are we safe here? Or did we just jump into a whole other pot of problems? Are Pax and Five here to help us? Or help themselves?
“What are you thinking about?” Tori asks me.
“Nothing but how great it feels to be here with you. I’m sorry for all the shit that’s happened between us, Tori. Really. I am. I feel like I might’ve missed out on a lot of great years with you just because I didn’t take the time to see your point of view.”
“Ditto,” she says.
“Or get to know you properly.”
She turns her body so she can look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.” She sighs. “I think… I think I have no idea who you really are.”
God. This sucks.
Because I really want to tell her the truth.
But not now. Not tonight. Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow. Or… maybe the next day. Or maybe when all this is over. Then we can sit down and talk about it all. All the things I left out. All the things that still haunt me. Pax thinks he knows, but he knows what I already told Tori, nothing more.
“Are you… too tired?”
“Huh?” I answer, absently.
“West!” She giggles. “Are you going to make me beg for it?”
“Oh.” I laugh too. “No. No.” I move closer, position myself on top of her. “There’s no begging.” Our eyes lock. Like we don’t want to miss a moment. I kiss her on her mouth, her tender lips reaching for me, the tips of our tongues touching and then… I just can’t get enough. Everything that has happened over the past few days melts away and leaves nothing but desire in its wake.
“I need you, Mr. Conrad,” Tori says, pulling away just far enough to get words out. “If you want to be my prince, then fine. Because I really need a prince.”
I just stare at her. How to describe the feelings? How do I put into words the depths of hell I’d walk through just to get to her?
I only know one way and it’s not something I want to talk about tonight. So I let that go. I drop all that hate and anger I’ve got for the person who’s hurt her. And I just… be here.
My fingers weave into her hair as I take her mouth once more. Our touch is soft, and our kiss is long, and there is no rush to get to other places, or other parts, or the release.
The world just suddenly becomes slow. Like every moment with her lips against mine is a year we’ll spend together. I’ll make everything right and we’ll find our way through this maze, this labyrinth of wild emotions, as a team.
“Say it,” I mumble.
Her eyes have never left mine. They stare straight at me. Straight into me.
“Say it,” I command.
“Do you need to hear it?”
I nod. “Badly, Victoria.”
She tries not to smile, but it’s no use.
“I want you,” she breathes into my mouth. Her eyes flutter, like she really wants to close them. “Inside me. Please,” she says.
But that’s what not I’m looking for.
She spreads her legs wide for me, her breathing kicking up a notch. I’m there, giving her what she wants. Easing into her, the way I have hundreds of times before—but a completely different way too. She wraps herself around me, wraps me inside her grip, gripping my shoulders like she needs something to hold on to.
The sex is not the only reason why I love Victoria Arias.
It’s not just because I love slipping my fingers into her silky hair, or the way my tongue likes to traces circles around her nipples.
It’s not just the fact that her pussy is sweet and my cock fits inside just right.
It’s not just the way she arches her back in response. It’s not just the primal feeling she brings out inside me. That feeling of pure lust and longing for more of this, and that, and everything we’ve ever done.
It’s not just because she’s beautiful on the outside. I love her for the person she is on the inside. Flaws and imperfections. Fears and insecurities. I love her for her weakness and strength. Her beauty and pain. I love her because there is no other person on this earth who can make me ache for something the way she can.
I’m after that love in return. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from her.
We move together like our love-making has been choreographed. Like we are dancing our way through the last act, and no one is watching but us. And we don’t care. Because we don’t do anything for the accolades, we only do things for us.
The slow begins to wear off the way it does and the world begins to catch up. Tori is moaning and her hips are pressing against mine, urging me to take her harder. Push deeper inside her. Give her more.
So I roll us over and let her take control. She laughs, breathlessly, her smile contagious. And she begins to move her body in a different way. She’s gripping the hard muscles of my biceps like she needs them around her. She needs me to hold on and never let go.
I reach up, place my hand on the back of her neck and force her down onto my chest.
“Yes,” she says, her heart racing against mine. They race together. Like we are both trying to get across some imaginary finish line. “Yes,” she moans as I grip her hair, keeping her in place. I don’t want her to get too far ahead of me. She might take off and never come back if I let her do that. So I hold her prisoner there. In my grip. My cock buried deep inside her pussy. My lust out of control, my desire off the charts, my want… God, why does it feel this way to want someone so much?
“West?” she says.
Fuck. Stop being so damn dramatic, Corporate, and fuck your girlfriend the way she wants you to.
“West…” she says again.
“Come,” I say, pumping harder. So hard my balls slap against her skin. I reach down and play with her asshole. “Come, baby. I need to feel it. I need to feel your love so bad.”
We come together, that final rush of adrenaline the shot I need to put my fears aside. Put the last few days aside and just give in to her completely.
“I love you,” she says a few moments later when we are hot, and sweaty, and breathing so hard, it feels like our hearts might explode. She places my hand on her breast to feel the thumping. And then she places hers over mine.
We lie there, looking up at the ceiling of a six-million-dollar yacht, as those final thoughts of the day race across that finish line.
Victoria Arias walked into my life on my darkest day. Even though everyone thinks the darkest day came two days later with those rape charges, that was nothing compared to the kind of soul-crushing defeat I had to accept under that tree as I tried to drink my problems away. And this girl… this angel… appeared with a sweet voice and a talent for listening.
I think I won.
And it scares me.
Because someone else thinks I won too. And that’s why all this shit is happening. It’s not Perfect’s fault we got charged with rape. It’s not Romantic’s fault we got charged with rape.
It’s mine.