Chapter 45

Nan’s POV

This man…oh this man….

A few little words and defenses shatter. He is the center of all my fears. And my desires…

It was his voice that pulled me from the depth of my nightmare. A lifeboat out of the cold and dark. Saving my drowning soul as well as my physical body.

He makes me want to fight…. to fight him when provoked…to fight against the injustice I face …to fight for myself.

I thought I had felt his arms around me in my delirium. Embracing me. Whispering reassurances and promises.

‘I must be imagining it,’ I thought. ‘Why would Lionel be here when I am so unwell?’

Then I woke up from my sickness. And there he was. Sitting at my beside.

Tired lines were etched on his face. His fancy party outfit crumbled and dirtied. His face unshaven for the first time I’d seen him.

‘So handsome, even when he looks exhausted,’ I muse. Yet he smiled so warmly at me. Open relief all over his face.

It left me confused. Hadn’t he left me to the wolves? Had he not stood by as I was humiliated?

Had he not left me to drown?

‘No, Lionel would never do such a thing. Lionel is the one who saved you.’ I remember.

Angry at myself for thinking for even a moment that he would do that to me. Lionel is not the type of man to do that even if he is angry with me. Argument or no argument.

Yet things had…changed in the time I was sick. In ways I had not foreseen. It leaves me confused and daringly hopeful at the same time.

Lionel is at the top of the food chain. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I doubt the man has ever washed a dish in his life.

Yet that same man cared for me during the worst of my sickness. Personally, changing my bandages and nursing me back to health. Never leaving my side from the look of the chair and blanket at my bedside.

‘I don’t think he realized he was wearing the same clothes until I took a bath,’ I suppose.

But his words…oh his words…

“I’m so sorry Nan…. You are so important to me Nan…the idea of you with someone else drove me temporarily insane.”

I had missed him. My heart has a hole in it that only Lionel’s presence could feel. I’d been emotionally bleeding out without realizing it.

I missed his dry sense of humor. How we could have a whole conversation with just our eyes. I missed his silent, protective presence at my side.

I realize I had not been truly angry. I had been hurt. His actions and apology washed away that last sting of hurt.

In its place is the fragile bloom of spring. One I am ready to nurture for once.

Between nursing me back to health…his caring attitude and remorseful apology…and the tender look in those mocha eyes…

I could not help myself. I push myself as close as possible. And I kiss him.

His lips on mine feel like coming home. There is desire. But there is none of the urgency and rush from before.

This kiss is slow. A soft embrace as we are reintroduced to each other’s bodies. Tender and caring.

Lionel leans forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. Subtly urging me to lay back down. I break the kiss and comply with his request.

He moves his body to hover over mine. I watch lazily. Still weakened from being sick.

He uses one arm to lean on his elbow. His inky curls curtaining my face. His eyes darken as he takes in the little smirk on my face.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you when you haven’t fully recovered.” Concern lines his voice.

I reach a hand up to his face. Run my fingertips along the sharp ridges of his cheek bone. “I trust you, it’s fine.”

He reaches with his free hand up to the one I am caressing his face with. He lightly intertwines our fingers. Places a little kiss to my knuckles.

No other words are spoken for a while. We do not rush into sex. That is not our intention here. \

I lose count of the lazy kisses we exchange. I am more than content just breathing in the same air as him. Of letting our lips speak words we are not quite ready to speak.

Each kiss is like tiny embers. Flaming the slow building heat in my chest. A spark.

Then his hand drifts lower and lower…until they slip beneath my panties. I breath out a little sharply at the touch at my intimate spot. But I don’t stop kissing him.

His explorations are tentative. Lightly testing my reaction. Seeing what pleases me.

I moan when he finds that little nub and starts rubbing little circles. I try to bite my lip to hold in the sound. But he does not like that.

“Don’t hide from me. Let me hear you.” He breathes into my ear.

His touch turns teasing. My hips rise to meet his touch. Needing more…more…

The little burning ember in my chest has become a furnace. I am aware of every point of contact between us. I suddenly wish there were less barriers between our skin.

It’s a visceral need. I can’t stop from seeking every inch of bare skin that I can. I need it.

He must feel it too. I see the little glow of his alpha eyes. The room is warmer.

‘His fire powers,’ I think. ‘He’s losing control.’

But I am not frightened. Somehow, I know I am in no danger. Not from Lionel.

I don’t care about anything else right now. All that matters is touching Lionel. Feeling Lionel.

He presses chaste kiss to the side of my face. Completely at odds with the filthy way his hands move. His stubble scratches my jaw.

It’s enough to send me over the edge. My mouth falls open and my toes curl in pleasure as I climax. It takes me several minutes for my mind to connect back to my body.

In that time Lionel has reached his own peak. He takes the cloth near the bed and wipes himself down. He puts his pants back on that I had not realized came off during our activities.

The room has darkened enough that I can only catch the outline of him. He lies on the bed next to me. It’s silent save for our panting breath.

‘I’m going to have to take another bath soon.’ I nearly giggle. My afterglow lasts for only a few more moments as I recall something.

My thoughts tumble over something strange. ‘I know I have good chemistry with Lionel…but that was something…different.’

I had been in a few relationships. Some good, some bad, some mediocre. I am no blushing virgin.

There was typically some genuine desire and heat between the lovers I’ve had. I’ve also had good experiences before. But nothing like this.

No one before Lionel ever made me burn. I did not feel like burrowing beneath their skin to bask in their warmth. Simply kisses weren’t addictive.

But they were with Lionel. I could never be close enough to Lionel. I just wanted to kiss him every moment of the day.

I could have dismissed this. Shrug it off as longing. Perhaps touch starvation.

But that did not feel…right. I’d been too angry to notice it this time. By going slow this time I unwillingly noticed how…different this was.

His touch felt electric. As though I could catch fire. But it did not come from him…it came from within me.

There had been this tugging feeling. Urging me closer, closer, closer. It only let up once I received my pleasure.

And the way my chest felt…like a live flame. Ready to burst. It should have been painful.

But it wasn’t. All of this…it’s strange. ‘What was that?’

But I do not know how to verbalize this. I sound crazy. I glance at Lionel.

His eyes stare into space. He looks…distracted. Troubled.

I go to speak. To check him. But his next movement kills my words.

He rubs his hand across his chest. As though he does not realize he is doing this. In the exact spot my own chest had burned.

‘Did…did Lionel feel it too?’