Juliet

I flinch and jolt back, dismayed that he caught me fondling him.

What did I do? Why did I do this?

Oh god … I feel so bad.

My cheeks flush as I stumble backward. He sits up straight, staring back at me unapologetically. He doesn’t even seem fazed, despite the fact his dick is still hard … and pointing upward underneath the banana leaf.

And it’s all my doing.

You actually fucking fondled him, Jules. What the hell is wrong with you?

Since when did you turn into a goddamn pervert?

I feel so wrong. So wrong.

I shake my head and mumble, “I’m sorry.”

He cocks his head and rises from the bed slowly, waltzing toward me.

I brace myself against the wall as he approaches, my head turned to the side. I close my eyes, waiting for punishment. Will he tie me up again? Lock me up in the pit? Or worse, hurt me?

But he doesn’t do that.

Not any of that.

Because as I hold my breath, awaiting his move … he kisses me.

Right on my neck.

My eyes spring open only to meet his, the same hunger from before flashing in his eyes.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Another kiss follows … right below the first one.

My breath hitches in my throat as he keeps adding more.

He places a hand right beside me on the wooden wall, trapping me. His other hand snakes up my torso. His kisses are equally soft as they are sinful, and I can’t help but let go at the moment.

He grabs my breast and squeezes.

I can’t breathe.

Can’t fucking breathe.

His next kiss on my collarbone has my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

With a quick nudge, the top button of my shirt pops. His finger slips in … more pop … and down he goes until all of them have unfastened. He parts my shirt gently as his lips find mine, and he kisses me hard.

And his mouth … tastes so damn good.

Feels so good.

The way he parts my lips and pushes his tongue in without holding back.

I’m helpless against his assault on my senses, making me delirious with need.

“Jules …” he murmurs against my lips, softly nibbling them. “I dreamed of you. Naked.”

His hand wraps around my throat as he presses a demanding kiss on my lips and licks the roof of my mouth. “Under my palm.” I moan when he finds my nipple and twists it. “Begging for my cock.”

A wide grin spreads across his lips. “It wasn’t a dream … was it?”

I don’t reply. How can I? How can I ever admit it to him if I can’t even admit it to myself?

He presses another kiss to my mouth and licks the seam of my lips. “You touched me …”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, barely able to form the words as he tugs at my hardened nipples.

Everything is blurry, and I’m dizzy with lust. I don’t even know what’s happening right now. What I set in motion.

“Don’t be …” he whispers in my ear. “It’s the best dream I’ve ever had.”

His hand slides down my body and dives right between my legs.

I squeeze my thighs together and suck in a breath as he rubs me right through my shorts. He doesn’t release his gaze on me. Not as I struggle to breathe. Not as I squirm to stay upright. In fact, he seems to revel in the fact he can make me melt into a puddle with his fingers.

His mouth is on my neck as his tongue drags a line down, all the way to my breasts, while his fingers curl my shorts and snake their way inside.

He’s fondling me. Touching me in places I never thought I’d allow him.

His fingers dive into my slit as wetness pools between my legs, coating his fingers. I moan.

And I still can’t. Fucking. Breathe.

I shouldn’t allow this.

It’s so dead wrong.

What I did was wrong.

I feel wrong.

As my brain regains control, I push him away.

He blinks a couple of times, confused. So I take the opportunity to make a run for it.

“Jules,” he says as I run out the door. “Wait.”

I don’t reply. I feel too guilty. Too dark inside for this to happen.

I shouldn’t let him in. Shouldn’t let him do these things to me.

If I just could’ve kept my claws to myself, none of this would’ve happened.

If I hadn’t come here, he wouldn’t have happened.

We aren’t right for each other.

I grab the nearest torch I can find, light it in the big fire, and run. I don’t even know why I’m running. Why I want to get away so badly.

Into the dense jungle, in the middle of the night.

I don’t even care that it’s dangerous. I just want to get away.

With what I did … the way I fondled him … I’m ashamed. That’s why I’m running. I can’t bear to face him right now. Can’t bear to face myself.

The real danger in this jungle … is him.

He’s the one thing that can sway my heart, and I don’t want that to happen.

That’s why I’m so scared.

Not because of what he could do to me, or how badly I want him to take me.

It’s because I don’t want him to persuade me to stay.

Tears well up in my eyes as I keep running. I don’t know my destination, but anywhere is fine right now as long as it’s away from him. It’s not his fault; it’s mine. I’m weak, and it’s not something I’ve ever felt before.

I’ve never wanted a man so badly I’d touch him in the middle of the night while he was sleeping.

Who does that anyway? What kind of person do you have to be?

A nutcase, that’s who.

“Jules! Come back!”

I brush away the tears as I pass some more trees and ignore him. I can’t stop now. It’s already too late. I have to keep going. Have to keep trying to resist.

However, the moment I come to a clearing, I stop.

It’s that place … the lake and the waterfall … and the shower.

Did I go here on purpose or by mistake?

He guided me here with my eyes closed. Could I have found this on the memory of my steps alone?

I shiver and place the torch on a bunch of rocks.

I breathe out loud and let out all my frustration, all the pent-up sexual energy that was about to explode.

I don’t hear him behind me anymore, so maybe he’s given up trying to find me.

Good. I need some time alone to think.

And to decide.