His Loving Eyes [18+]

62

The sheets lay haphazardly around our waists, the air heavy with unspoken tension as I nestled against his side, tracing the contours of his hard stomach with trembling fingers. My head rested on his chest, seeking solace in the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath. But beneath the surface calm, a storm brewed within me.

Devon had drifted off to sleep, but the memory of his touch lingered like a haunting melody. His silence spoke volumes, louder than any words he could have uttered. The absence of his usual dirty talk, the abrupt halt to our passion – it all gnawed at me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

As I gazed at his peaceful slumber, a surge of guilt and regret washed over me like a tidal wave. I caressed his cheek, tracing the lines of his face, aching to bridge the chasm that had formed between us. But the weight of my mistakes hung heavy in the air, suffocating any chance of reconciliation.

Slipping out of bed, I sought refuge in the bathroom, my reflection a stark reminder of the recklessness that had brought us to this breaking point. The smudged lipstick and running mascara painted a picture of a woman unraveled, a woman teetering on the edge of her own undoing.

Returning to the bedroom, I found Devon still asleep, his presence a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me. As I reached for a t-shirt to hide the remnants of our fractured intimacy, the house seemed to hum with a tension that mirrored the turmoil in my heart.

Cleaning up the remnants of our passion in Devon's office, the scattered photographs of Serena served as a painful reminder of the betrayal that had threatened to tear us apart. The paternity tests, the tattoo bearing her name – each piece of the puzzle adding another layer of complexity to our unraveling love story.

"You scared me!" I gasped as he appeared at the door. Pressing a hand to my lips, I tried to mask the tremor in my voice.

"Why aren't you in bed? It's three am," Devon's voice was thick with sleep, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I wanted to clean the office, so Helena wouldn't see the mess," I explained, my words tumbling out in a rush as he stalked towards me, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"You should've stayed in bed with me," he growled, his tone brooking no argument as he scooped me up and carried me back to our bedroom.

As he deposited me on the foot of the bed, I sensed a shift in him, a darkness that lurked beneath the surface. His gaze, once filled with love and tenderness, now bore the weight of unspoken grievances. I tremble as I back up the bed until my body touches the headboard. The coldness of the sheets contrasts with the heat of the moment, making my skin prickle.

"You are mad," I state, my voice barely a whisper.

Devon's eyes are dark, a storm brewing within them. He grabs my ankles, dragging my body to the edge of the bed. "I'm furious," he growls, flipping me onto my knees on the bed. He pulls the shirt I'm wearing off my body, leaving me bare and vulnerable.