Only You

Chapter 32

Elora

The man turns his head and kisses my cheek before pulling away, looking too serious for my liking. He has the face on he always does when he's about to ask me something he thinks I won't like. He's always right.

"Will you ever tell me what happened to you?" he wonders.

I swallow thickly. "I don't know." While the answer used to be a hard no, it's becoming harder and harder to deny Alexey anything at all. Not just that but I've found myself fantasizing about it, telling him everything I've never spoken up about before and having him comfort me.

Of course, the fact that I want it so badly is enough to make sure that I don't cross that line. If I confided in him, I'd take us to a whole new level. At least for me. And while I already have no idea how I'll possibly ever end this thing between us, getting more attached won't make it easier.

Alexey sighs but is careful to conceal his disappointment otherwise. Giving me his most convincing little smirk, he makes quick work of yanking my dress off me and turning us around so he's on top of me. The couch is a lot more narrow than the bed so we're already having some difficulties but with a solid arm near my head, Alexey doesn't seem concerned.

He looks down at me, fire blazing in his eyes until he sits back on his knees between my spread legs. He presses a firm kiss to my naked stomach, no doubt feeling the shuddering breath that evokes. God, but every time he kisses or caresses my middle so gently, my nerve endings go crazy.

When he twists around me just slightly and kisses the marred skin on my left hip, a shyness I'm no longer used to around Alexey washes over me, and the ugly claws of my old insecurities dig themselves into my gut. I try to twist away, to hide my imperfection from him but he merely tightens his grip on me, keeping me in place.

"What are you doing?" I ask, still trying to wiggle away.

"Kissing you," he replies dumbly, right before lowering his face once more. This time, I cover my scar with my hands before his lips can touch it, feeling stupid but unable to help myself.

Alexey's eyes meet mine and his brows dip. "Why won't you let me kiss it?"

"Because it's ugly," I retort, hating how weak my voice suddenly sounds. Alexey's brows only dip lower.

"Baby," he says softly but I'm already shaking my head.

"Just don't get too close. Please," I ask him.

"I've already seen it a million times, Sweetheart. It does nothing to reduce your beauty and certainly isn't something to be ashamed of. It tells a story. Yes, a bad one but one that helped shape you into the strong, beautiful woman wearing the red lingerie that is before me now." His hands gently come on top of mine, still hiding the scar. "Take them away, Sweetheart. Don't hide from me."

My heart does a horrible flip and my hands happily comply as he starts pulling them away. When he presses his lips to my skin again, keeping his eyes locked on mine, it's all I can do not to give into a whole body shiver.

"Tell me what you feel, my darling," he prompts, peppering the area around the white line with chaste kisses.

I let my eyes flutter shut with another deep breath and reply, "Only you."

We stay like that for a few heart-warming minutes, his lips attached to my skin and my eyes closed as I soak it up. "Tell me what happened. If nothing else, tell me about this," he finally whispers, running his thumb over my scar as his head comes back to mine.

"Alexey," I protest softly. Over the weeks, he kept digging a little about my past but all he got from me was the confirmation that it was no one in my family that hurt me.

Why can't he just let it be? Why can't we just enjoy the present when it's already clear we can't have the future?

"Elora," he echoes me with the same tone. I hold his gaze for several seconds before deciding that if we're going to have this talk, I'm not lying beneath him for it. Despite the man's best efforts, I manage to wriggle out from beneath him and sit up on the far edge of the couch, arms crossed over my chest as I level him with a look.

"Fine," I say, a little more bite to my voice than intended.

"This won't do," he simply replies, reaching out to pull me back into his lap.

The sudden move gives me whiplash so I wonder aloud, "What are you doing?" forgetting, that I was trying to act exasperated with him.

"Holding you. Act mad all you want but don't even try to put distance between us that neither of us wants." He kisses my lips quickly. "Now, go on," he says almost cheerily, acting as if this was the simplest thing.

I scowl at him but soon realize that I won't be able to keep up the act once I start talking. With a sigh, I let my body melt into his. "I don't know where to start but I won't provide you with any background information so this might not make sense. This story is all you get," I tell him, hoping I don't sound too harsh. He nods.

"It's not a very long tale. There was just a day when I was feeling particularly restless about meeting him and maybe a little braver than usual. When he started getting all touchy-feely, I tried to get away and things escalated a little. He got mad and tried to hold on to me more tightly but I was able to free myself with a shove. In the process of getting away, I lost my balance and bumped into the edge of a desk a little too hard." I hesitate, debating whether to tell him more or stop here.

When he keeps looking at me expectantly as if he knew I was thinking about going on, I decide to confide in him a little more. Can't hurt now, can it? "You remember when I told you about how I used to love riding a bike?" He nods.

"Well, I wasn't allowed to tell my parents how I really got hurt but as I said, the wound was too deep to hide and I had to go to the hospital. He forced me to convince my parents that I had an accident with my bike and since my parents didn't like their daughters sporting any flaws or being in danger, I was no longer allowed to ride a bike from that day on."

Surprisingly, I was able to take that trip down memory lane without the usual nausea and gut-wrenching panic. I'm not delusional enough to think it doesn't have anything to do with Alexey's steady caress on my waist.

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Story time