Queen of my Heart

40⚠

"WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?"

Bryan shut the door behind him. For a moment we were shrouded in darkness. And for a tiny millisecond, I felt a pang of fear.

Stop, I chided myself. Bryan will never hurt you.

Still, I've had enough bad experiences in the dark. And it didn't help that it was cold, as if nobody has lived here before. My vision could barely adjust, but I could see the faint outline of a bed.

I blinked and the light was on.

"Scared?" Bryan pressed up behind me, his torso in line with mine. "Don't worry. I'm here." His warm breath tickled the side of my neck, and an involuntary shiver went down my spine.

Breathless, I whirled around and nearly toppled backwards on how close we were. His strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist, his forehead against mine. "Why are we here?" I whispered, closing my eyes. I was afraid if I gazed into his drowning blue orbs I would never be able to leave him.

His lips brushed against mine. "To give you a gift." He squeezed my hips.

The small, seemingly innocent contacts of our skins sent my brain on haywire. "Where?"

"Look at me."

I didn't open my eyes. "Where's the gift, Bryan?" Please don't make me look at you. I'm hurting enough as it is.

"Baby, please look at me."

Please stop. "Bryan, don't be like this."

Fervor need laced his words, his arms tightening around me. "Juliet."

I came undone, his voice a gentle coax that's slowly unraveling my resolve, baring my heart, body, and soul. All of me, only for him. I opened my eyes and saw pain and love and want and need. I saw the eyes of someone mirroring my own.

Bryan caressed my face, his fingers as soft and heated as his gaze. "Will you forget everything tonight?"

"What?"

He gulped, and the conflict was visible in his eyes. This was hard for the both of us, and I didn't think anything could make this easier. "Just for tonight, let me give you my present."

He could ask me to jump off a cliff and I would've easily complied. He had me wrapped around his finger the moment his lips brushed mine.

I merely nodded, because I didn't want him to hear in my voice just how much I was craving for his touch.

"I love you," he said as he crashed his lips against mine, our mouths reunited after so long. There was too much passion, too much lust and pain, yet we couldn't stop. The need was too controlling; it demanded more and more as our tongues danced together, our hands no longer binded by guilt and regret as they moved around us -- clutching at clothes, tugging at hair.

A gasp escaped me as his mouth sucked on my throat. "Bryan." I undressed him, marvelling at the groan he let out. We locked eyes, his pupils almost swallowing the irises. I've never seen him so in pain yet so aroused before. "Are you sure?"

It was an irony. It has always been one when it came to us. He was supposed to be asking me that question, not because he was a man, but because I was supposed to be the weak-willed between the two of us. Not because I was a woman, but because I was Juliet. But I asked him first, for I wanted him so much that I would do just about anything to make him love me tonight. For the first time. And probably the last.

"I am sure," he breathed out, his hands never letting me go. "Are you?"

I kissed him, and it was a good enough answer for him. Pulling away the tiniest bit, I placed my trembling hands on his chest. His skin burned, his heartbeat a steady vivacissimo beneath my fingertips. "I love you, Bryan."