Regret Page 12

She’s the artistic one, not me.

  “There’s more.” I walk past, indicating she should follow.

  Belle trails a safe distance behind as I lead her through the garage, her hesitation obvious once she realises where we’re headed. I open the door to the studio, lean around to flick the lights on, and then step back.

  “Ladies first.”

  A smile tugs at her lips as she steps past me and gasps. “Holy….”

  “I guessed the colour based on what you liked in the house.”

  Judging by the tears on her cheeks, I did good. Belle walks further into the room, her hand trailing over the pale grey walls as she heads for the glossy black cabinets still in pieces along the back wall.

  “I haven’t quite finished it.” It looks flasher than it really is; the workstation is simply part of a flat pack kitchen set.

  She leans over to pull the edges back on a cardboard box that sits in the middle of the room. “Oh my God.”

  It’s the centrepiece of the whole room: a vintage-styled black chandelier that’ll hang from a pendant in the middle of the studio, recessed lights giving her the direct light she needs otherwise.

  “You’d need to kit the room out with whatever else you need, but it gives you the bare bones,” I explain.

  She runs the back of her hand under her nose and shakes her head. “It’s amazing, Zeus, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?” My frustration is clear in my tone. She’s still caught up in what others think—I can tell.

  “I can’t use this studio. I can’t work from your home.”

  “Fuck’s sake, Belle.” I close the space between us. “It’s our home. Don’t you get it? I brought you back here to show you this, because all of this could be yours.” I throw my arms wide and turn as I step away. “All of this should be yours.”

  Her nostrils flare, the strain evident in the tears that still leak over her cheeks. She doesn’t say a thing, simply hugs my sweatshirt to her before it clearly registers that she’s cloaked in something of mine. Her hand is a blur as she yanks the zipper down and shakes the wet clothing off.

  I frown and fold my arms when she holds it out for me.

  “Take it.”

  Fuck’s sake. I snatch it from her grasp and turn tail, marching out of the room to ditch the damn thing in the laundry. She doesn’t follow at first, taking her sweet time before I hear the door to the studio close and the swish of her wet pant-legs as she tracks across the garage floor. Yet she stops, not quite making it back into the house.

  I find her at the nose of the Barracuda, the dustcover in her hand as she lifts it to see underneath. She doesn’t seem to notice I’m there, so I lean a shoulder into the doorframe and watch as she uses her free hand to lift the cover higher.

  “You like it?”

  The cloth billows when she drops it. “Sorry.”

  “No. You can look.” I step into the garage and yank the cover off, revealing the stripped bones beneath. “I keep it covered to stop the dust from the driveway getting over everything.”

  Belle circles the car, squeezing between the tail end and the garage door to end up on the same side as I am. “It’ll look so good when it’s finished.”

  “Look even better with you in it.” Or on it naked.

  “Zeus, stop it.” Her brow pinches as she drops her gaze to the floor.

  “Stop what?”

  “Talking as though us, together, is a thing.”

  “Isn’t it?” I pick the dustcover up and throw it over the car again, busying myself with straightening it out so that I don’t push her up against the wall and remind her what it is that we let go of.

  Fuck her boyfriend. Fuck whatever she’s got herself into with him. If she thinks I’m going to hide how I feel out of respect for some douche who can’t even bring himself to be with her, then she can think again.

  Belle retreats into the house while I finish up, silent and lost in her head. I walk through to the living room expecting to find her there, yet the space is empty. To my surprise, I find her seated on my bed looking at the picture I keep on my nightstand.

  The only picture I have of us.

  “I wondered where this went,” she whispers, her finger tracing the outline of her arms in the shot.

  “I should have told you, but I didn’t exactly know how to explain that I stole it.”

  A small laugh falls from her lips as she gently sets it back in its place. “You, unable to explain stealing something. That doesn’t make sense.”

  I chuckle, taking the spot next to her on the side of the bed. “It doesn’t, does it?”

  Hands in her lap, Belle turns her face to mine, brow pinched as she peers out from under her lashes. Her uncertainty echoes my own as I sit here and look at the girl—no, woman—I love and wonder how the fuck I fix something I broke with such force?

  I had her trust, once. I convinced her that she could rely on me, that I would never intentionally hurt her. And then what did I do? Betrayed her trust and caused her the worst kind of pain there is. I pushed her away, straight into the arms of another man, and now I have one hell of an uphill battle to undo all those wrongs, to take back what’s mine.

  She draws a shaky breath, her lips slightly parted as her gaze falls to the floor. I freeze, not wanting to move for fear of missing whatever it is she’s readying herself to say. Belle swallows, still unable to look at me as her brow pinches tighter and she admits, “I broke up with him. Damien. We’re done.” Her lips twitch in and out of a smile in the blink of an eye. “I realised that I never loved him like I love you. I didn’t know how.”

  She lifts her eyes to mine, worry mixed with hope, overshadowed by how vulnerable she is in the moment.

  She called it off. She ditched the arsehole.

  I shouldn’t revel in somebody else’s pain like this, but… “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “You would have been miserable with him anyway.” I reach out and tug her into my lap like I’ve longed to since my arse hit the mattress. “He obviously didn’t know how to love you either, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, right now. Would you?”

  Her gaze follows my hands as I reach for the hem of her shirt. My dove has come home, and I’m not letting a little bad timing deter me from my plan. I intended to bring her here, to remind her where she belongs. If thinking she was still with that jerk didn’t deter me, then like fuck a recent break-up is going to stop me.

  Belle’s chest rises with the deep breath she takes, and then stills as I see the resolve settle in her eyes also. What’s time anyway, but a concept thought up by men who wanted to explain the sun and the stars? An hour, a day—no measure of time would have changed the fact we’d end up here, like this, eventually. Her teeth pinch her bottom lip as I take a hold of the cotton and coax it from beneath her sexy little arse and then up her stomach toward her ribs.

  “You say stop, and I let you go. Okay?”

  She smiles, eyes hooded as her hands trail my shoulders. “Why would I do that?”

  Worry and doubt melt away as she lifts both arms, eyes locked with mine. I strip my girl of her rain-dampened clothing, revelling in each inch of skin as it’s bared to me. The shirt hits the floor, her hands already on her bra as I reach over my shoulder and jerk the wet T-shirt from my body. With each piece of clothing our actions become quicker, more desperate, Belle’s frustration clear as she cries out at the denim stuck around her legs.

  I drop to my haunches, my own jeans undone yet still on, and help her step from the confines of her clothing. She stands before me in only her panties, every inch a delicious feast for my eyes as I rise to full height once more, my palms trailing up the sides of her body.

  So long since I’ve touched her, so long since I’ve held her, and yet the sensation is as familiar as if it were yesterday. This kind of high, this kind of natural drug—you don’t forget that.

  Belle’s thumbs hook in the waistband of her underwear, yet I stop her with my hand over hers. “Leave them o
n.” There’s something about a woman naked save for that last barrier that drives me wild. It’s the tease, the hint at what lies beyond. The thought that by pulling the fabric aside I’m stealing something I’m not supposed to have.

  I guess in a way I am.

  Belle gives me a curious look, yet obeys my demand and shifts her focus to what clothing of mine remains. “These need to go.” She grips my waistband and shoves. “As fuckable as you look wearing only denim.”

  Fuckable. Something I can’t imagine her having the confidence to call me before.

  I lift one foot after the other as she squats before me, pleased she stripped my boxers at the same time. I reach down to coax her up, yet she pushes my hand away and peers up from before me, her eyes hooded as one hand slides to my already stiff cock.

  “Dove….”

  Belle’s eyes slip closed as her hand slides over my shaft. “I’ve missed hearing you call me that.”

  My breath escapes as a hiss, the feel of her hot mouth when she wraps her lips around my length pure heaven. I’ve missed this girl so bad, literally lost my mind living without her. But no fantasy I jerked off to over the past three years could compare to the real thing. None.

  I honestly thought I’d screwed things up for good; hurt her too badly for her to find it in herself to forgive me. Fuck—maybe she still hasn’t. But no conversation is worth interrupting her for when she pumps my cock like she’s been doing it for years.

  Fuck, that’s perfect. “Belle, baby. You’re gonna need to stop.”

  She peers up at me, fist still tight on my dick as she licks her lips. “I could do this all night.”

  “I have no doubt you could.” I tuck my fingers under her chin and coax her to her feet. “But I need in you too fucking bad to be able to do this slow.”

  Her palms find my jaw, her lips on mine. I steal her air, consuming the girl like she has me. I want her to know what it felt like to have her take away my ability to breathe, to have her place a weight on my chest that never once shifted until her old man delivered the news that she was home.

  Belle pulls away from the kiss, lips swollen, panting as she catches her breath. “You still taste how I remember.”

  I reach down to push my hand inside her panties and run my fingers through her wet folds. She watches as I bring my hand to my mouth and suck the digits clean. “So do you.”

  A breathy moan escapes her as I push my hand back between her legs to tease her some more. The sight of her wanting—it’s everything. I take a moment to really drink her in, every inch of her as she stands before me, willing and waiting. Hips tilted toward mine, Belle wraps an arm around my neck to steady herself and shamelessly grinds against my hand as I push two fingers deep. My lips find her neck, my cock aching to find home as well. Yet the mewls she makes as I pump her toward climax are too perfect to ignore.

  “Come for me, dove. Come all over my hand, baby.”

  She sags as her legs weaken, yet I catch her with my arm around her waist and hold her languid body as she falls apart. Her muscles clamp down tight, the force of her climax seeming to take her by surprise.

  Fuck—it takes me by surprise.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper as she rests her forehead to my chest. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

  Her hand slips between us, her fingers finding their away around my cock once more as she stays tight against me. “I need this in me, Zeus. I need to feel you in me.”

  I take a seat on the side of the bed, more than ready to let her do whatever the fuck she wants to me. Belle stands before me, seemingly unsure what to do before placing her knees either side of my hips and climbing onto my lap. The feel of her fingers as she runs them through my hair, the way she arches her back to press those gorgeous tits against me—I’m a wrecked man.

  “Was there anyone else?”

  I take her face in my hold and brush my thumbs across her cheekbones. “Why ask me that now?”

  “Because I don’t want anything between us—literally. I want to fuck you bare, Zeus, so I need to know.”

  “You don’t need to worry.” Yeah, there was the two I told Jodie about, but I used protection both times and the last woman was a fucking age ago. I’m not getting into details now, not when all I can think about is sinking balls deep in the woman I love and losing myself in her. “Put that pussy where it belongs.” Not as though I could get her pregnant anyway.

  I push that last thought to the back of my mind, unwilling to deal with the regret it incites.

  Belle rises up to position herself, fire in her eyes as she holds my gaze. I grip her arse, fingers hooked in her panties to pull them aside while I help hold her weight as she lowers herself. She sinks deep, a moan growing louder with every inch I bury in her wet heat. Fuck, this girl is it for me, everything I could want, everything I need.

  “Fucking use me,” I snarl, jerking her hips forward to seat my dick properly. “Take what you need, dove.”

  I can only hope I’m enough for her, that shortcomings and all I’m everything she needs.

  Hands on my shoulders, she rocks her hips. Each breath she takes short and sharp, as though she can’t believe how good it feels. My fingers dig into the soft flesh or her arse as I help her out, slamming her down to take me deep. My cock twitches when I bottom out; if I’m not careful I’ll make myself come.

  Three years of fantasy is currently a reality, riding my cock like she owns it.

  “Zeus….”

  “Yeah, dove?”

  “I want to be closer,” she moans as her hips rock back and forth. “I need to be closer.”

  Consider it done. I lift her off, my dick hitting my stomach with a slap thanks to her arousal slick on my length. “Turn around.”

  She gets to her feet—albeit wobbly—and turns so her back is to me. I damn near come from the sight alone as she bends double to remove her panties, putting her wet cunt on full display.

  “Tease.”

  Belle huffs a little laugh as she stands tall once more, peeking over her shoulder at me.

  I scoot back a foot and pat the bed between my spread legs. “Feet here.”

  Hands on Belle’s hips, I help her get repositioned on my lap, both of us groaning at how good it feels to slide my cock back inside of her.

  “Fuck, that’s deep.” She leans back, resting her palms on my hips to take her weight.

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tight against me as I begin to rock my hips, slow and smooth. She pushes back, urging me to pick up pace. Before I realise what I’m doing, I have one hand wrapped around her throat and the other massaging her clit as she pivots her pussy along the length of my cock.

  She’s mine, in my hold, and like fuck I want to let go. “Okay?” I murmur, needing to be sure she’s okay with how I have her.

  She utters a throaty, “Uh-huh.”

  “Want me to fuck you harder?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Want me to ruin this pussy for anyone else? Make it mine?”

  “Ughhhh.”

  “Whose are you, dove?”

  “Yours, Zeus.” She barely gets the words out before dissolving as her climax hits.

  I shunt into that golden pussy, seeing fucking stars as my cum spills into her. In that moment I know two things without a doubt: one, I want to fuck this woman every day for the rest of my goddamn life; and two, if any other man touches her then she’ll find herself a prison bride.

  Because I’ll murder the fucker who tries to take her from me a second time.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Belle

  Well. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

  My fingers trace the lines that define Zeus’s muscles as he lies sated in the middle of the bed. His hands are tucked behind his head—which showcases the shape of his arms—a silly smile on his face.

  “Zeus?”

  “Mmm?”

  “What happened after I left?” I push up onto my elbows, stretched out on my stomach beside
him.

  The corners of his mouth turn down, and the lines between his eyebrows deepen. “Another day, dove.”

  I settle into the sweet spot between his arm and side, pulling his thick forearm over my side to encase me in all that is him. He seems happy now, but I saw that change in Zeus earlier. Fuck—it’s in every photo he has on Facebook, which isn’t many. There’s a distance, a cool indifference that leaves shivers racing down my spine.

  I need to know that wasn’t all because of me. Why did he reoffend? What pushed him over the edge?

  I couldn’t handle being responsible for that.

  “What are you thinking, babe?” The timbre of his words rumbles beneath my ear.

  “Nothing much.”

  “I call bullshit.” He rolls to his side, keeping me in his hold, so that we’re face-to-face. “Women always think about shit after sex.”

  “Was that all it was?”

  “Dove….”

  I shrug, twisting my head so I can avoid looking him in the eye. “I didn’t know.”

  He pushes me to my back, rolling over top in the process. My hips are crushed to the bed beneath his weight, his semihard cock evident between us. “Are you fucking serious?” His eyes search mine, a glimpse of that hard man from earlier returning. “Have I ever given you reason to doubt how I feel about you?”

  “You blocked me on Facebook.”

  “Because seeing you living while I was dying….” He shakes his head, hanging it between his shoulders so that his forehead rests on my breastbone, his face hidden as he mumbles. “I couldn’t do it.”

  My fingers find their way into his hair, weaving through the long black locks. “Why did you tell me to leave then?” I tug his head to make him look at me. “I would have stayed.”

  “Exactly.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can properly study my face as we talk. “And where would that have left you?”

  I let the emotions flow free; releasing the well of frustration I’ve filled these past years. “Happy.”

  “Babe.” He strokes my face, quiet adoration on his as he clears away my distress. “Don’t. Don’t regret what you’ve achieved.” Zeus places a kiss to the tip of my nose, another to my mouth. “I’m so fucking proud of what you’ve done.”