Third Debt (Indebted #4)(95)

Dropping his hand, he looped his fingers with mine and together we ducked around corners, scurried beneath paintings, and entered the secret door to his bachelor wing.

He’s no longer a bachelor. He’s taken. He’s mine.

My eyes drank in the maroon painted walls as Jethro prowled the halls of his own quarters. He seemed more at ease here, safe. Ever since finding his chambers, I’d wanted to return. I wanted to explore and see how many secrets his personal space would divulge.

Jethro guided me past gaming rooms, studies, and elaborate dayrooms until he opened the last door and pushed me through.

The moment we were inside, he locked it.

My eyes darted, taking in plasterwork of swooping birds of prey, the deep red carpet, leather-gilded walls, and priceless furniture that out-shadowed any antique my family had back in London. His room was masculine, almost medieval, yet there was a tranquillity about it, too.

I trembled as Jethro came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my front. His lips kissed the diamonds around my throat, drifting to my collarbone. How did he feel about my collar now? Did he have a strange love-hate relationship with the beautiful jewellery like I did?

I swayed backward, pressing myself into him.

His hot breath cascaded over my shoulder. “There aren’t any cameras in here.”

“Oh…” My heart rate skyrocketed.

Jethro’s hand cupped my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “I can do whatever I want to you.”

Once upon a time, that would’ve been a terrifying threat. Now, I knew him. Now, I trusted him.

I moaned as he palmed my other breast. “You can?”

“I can do whatever I need.”

“And what do you need?”

His teeth sunk into the flesh between my neck and shoulder, his tongue stealing the sting. “I can be completely myself. I can take everything you have to give.”

Words deserted me as he spun me around and captured my lips.

His taste slipped down my throat. His eagerness wrapped around my heart.

We only kissed for a moment.

But it felt as if we kissed forever.

Sliding, licking, tasting.

He swept me away from this dimension, guiding me to a different one—a more spiritual one where our hearts beat to the same rhythm and our desire thickened with every breath.

Walking me backward, his arms swooped down and hoisted me off my feet. I gasped at his power, kissing him harder. Instinctually, I wrapped my legs around his hips. He groaned as my * pressed against his straining erection.

Still kissing, he headed forward. Arms bunched, lips slippery, he marched me to the bed.

Then I was falling.

And he was falling with me.

The soft mattress cushioned me, while the hard demand of Jethro landed on top, squashing me with fervent need.

My lungs deflated; a small vertigo wave tried to steal the magic of the moment.

He chuckled. “I’ve gone dizzy from switching from vertical to horizontal.”

In that second, I loved him so much I might burst. “Now you know how I feel most days.”

He pulled back, brushing hair from my face. “Is it terrible? To have your brain work against you all the time?”

His question was so much deeper than just enquiring about my imbalance deficiency. It was a probe into how I coped—a mutual understanding of what it was like to have a condition rule your life. “I manage.”

“You manage better than me.”

I cupped his cheek. “Everyone has complications. Some harder than others.”

He smiled softly, pressing another kiss on my mouth. “Yes, but some of us are stronger than others.” His lips trailed to my ear. “And you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

His hand disappeared down my side, tugging at my t-shirt. I wriggled, helping him slip it over my head. I lay in just my knickers in the arms of the man who’d been given a task that would never come to pass.

Jethro would never kill me.

I knew that with utmost certainty.

He couldn’t because it would kill him, too.

His jaw locked, eyes devouring my naked chest. “You’re so f*cking beautiful.”

A prickle of sensitivity darted over my skin, centring in my core.

He ran his fingertip around my nipple, causing it to pebble. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Never let myself open to the pain it can cause.” His finger drifted down my sternum, moving toward my bellybutton. “I need you to know.” His finger coasted lower, dipping into the manicured curls between my legs. “I need you to know that I adore you. I worship you. I don’t just love you, Nila Weaver. I treasure you. I’ve never had anything so goddamn precious as you.”

My mouth fell open as he pressed a single finger inside me. Words flew from my mind as every part of me focused on his touch.

“I’m going to show you what it’s like in my world. Will you let me?” His finger slipped deeper, pressing against my inner walls.

I bit my lip, nodding. My eyes were heavy, body begging.

I was warm, content, and truly happy for the first time in my life.

I didn’t want to move or talk or do anything to burst this magical bubble.

Another finger entered me, stretching, coaxing, dragging me from needful to insane with desire.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for last night. I’ll never be worthy of what you’ve given me. But I’ll make it my life to repent and prove how f*cking sorry I am for what I put you through.”