Chapter Nine- Milly's Past
Marco's P.O.V.
She looked so fragile in her sleep. So vulnerable.
So unlike the way in which she held herself in the company of others.
Chloe possessed a certain vitality- an open, honest and straight forward appreciation of life that I found attractive in a surprising visceral way.
I sit down on the end of the chair and tentatively reach out to brush back her curls from her face, my fingers remain for a few seconds. Fighting the urge to sink my hand into the silken; richness of her hair. I pull back my hand and lean back cautiously, surprised by that moment of raw desire. So sudden and intense.
My gaze travels down......lingering on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts; being careful not to wake her, I place my hand on her chest and feel the steady throb of her heart beat, beneath the palm of my hand.
Humans. Such dainty creatures.
A sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escapes her lips. Those lips...........
She'd wanted me to kiss her last night, when we danced in the moonlight. I don't have to close my eye's to conjure up the image of her ........waiting. Her eyes had grown wide with expectation before her lids lowered, she'd tilted back her head slightly and her lips parted.....waiting. I could feel it in the shift in her pulse, the way her body leaned into mine.
Beneath my hand I feel her slacken, her whole body relax in her slumber.
And then of course there was our conversation this morning, the issue of....love.
She's asking for something I cannot give, things are how they are. She shouldn't expect anything more, it will only result in this delicate organ under my hand being broken. Things needn't be complicated.
I retract back my hand take up the book, still open on the page she was reading.
Pride and prejudice
"The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which tuned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend".
laughing lightly to myself at the irony in her choice of reading material; I glance at my watch. It's only five in the afternoon, I shouldn't care.....and I don't. But, I can't just leave her here, she's fallen asleep on the most uncomfortable chair in the room. She'll be stiff and sore when she wakes up. If I take her to her bedroom she'll obviously know she's been moved.
I stand up and gently lift her, trying not to rouse her, like strands of gold her hair cascade's over my arms. I try to ignore the feel of her all to feminine curves. My intention was to place her on the couch, in the far corner of the room. But before I take the first step. Her scent.......sharp as a knife, stabs at my senses.
She has such an alluring, fruity scent, sickly sweet like honey, mixed with a flowery scent. Roses. It's very......arousing. I glance down at her sleeping form in my arms and watch the throb of her pulse in the base of her throat.
Tempted. I bow my head into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweetness and wanting so badly taste. My gums start tingling expectantly with thirst.
'"The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest". I whisper against the flushed skin of her neck.
Before I do anything I'll most likely regret, I bring her over to the couch and place her down. Then retreat back to my study.
