Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I attempt to keep from crying. His words should not make me want to cry, but they dobecause I know that my time with him is coming to an end and I won’t be hearing them ever again.
“Please don’t,” I whisper as he begins to move inside me.
He pauses immediately, and I can see the question in his eyes. He thinks I’m telling him to stop moving. I’m not. I love the feel of him deep inside me. I never want him to leave. I wish we could be like this forever.
“No, keep moving. Just stop saying sweet things,” I whisper. “I can’t handle it.”
He snorts, lowering his head slightly before his lips brush across my own.Sweet. Too damn sweet. I hate it, but at the same time, I love it. And really, I hate itbecauseI love it so much. What a nightmare this has become. We’ve woven a tangled web with one another, and I don’t think any of us is going to come out of this unscathed.
As much as Gunnar claims this is only for fun, I see the way he looks at me. This isn’t just for fun. This is real, and it’s just as real for him as it is for me. Which makes this dangerous. So fucking dangerous that I can’t even believe we are still doing this.
His breath comes out labored as he continues to move slowly inside me. His gaze stays connected with mine, and sweat begins to bead on his forehead.God. Why is he so damn beautiful and sexy and good?
Why does this have to be so good?
Why does he have to be so good?
Why dowehave to be so damn goodtogether?
Every moment that passes, I fall deeper in love with him, and then I’m filled with regret, with pain, and with extreme sadness. I’m pathetic. I’ve fallen in love, and I continue to hurt myself every single minute of every single day.
I should push him away. I should make him leave me alone. I should demand that he walk away. Or maybe I should run tothe man whom I agreed to marry and stay with him until the nuptials.
What I shouldn’t be doing is climbing higher and higher toward another orgasm. I shouldn’t be clawing at his flesh, pulling him closer. I shouldn’t be silently begging for him to fuck me harder and harder with each thrust of his hips.
I shouldn’t be silently begging for this moment to never end.
But it’s about to end. Because the orgasm that I’ve been on the edge of having happens. It races through me like a rushing wave. I come. But I can’t do anything other than hold on in the position I’m in. I’m rendered almost helpless, and I really like that. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so out of control as when I’m with Gunnar.
My Viking.
I wish I could keep him for always.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LAINEY
Thankfully,I don’t run into my brother at the clubhouse while I do my walk of shame out to Gunnar’s bike, since I came here with the girls and my car is still at home. The fact that I bought a wedding dress to marry one guy, then slept with a different guy almost immediately after, is probably something that a psychologist should be studying.
Pressing my cheek to Gunnar’s back, I close my eyes as the wind whips by my face as he rides. I know he’s taking me home, and it’s almost the end of our time together, but I’m choosing to savor this moment.
Right here, on the back of his bike, my arms wrapped around him and my pussy sore from him being inside me, it’s everything I ever dreamed about. This is my fairy tale come true, this moment.
I’m not sure if that’s pathetic or what, but I also don’t care. I swore to myself years ago that I would never fall for a Vicious Reaper, and yet here I am, fallen flat on my face for this man.Deeply and madly in love with him, even though he doesn’t feel the same, no matter what anyone else says about it.
And even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. I made a commitment, and I’m going to follow through with it, because the world doesn’t revolve around me. As much as I wish it did, it doesn’t.
My marrying Paul doesn’t only affect me; it also affects my brother, his family, and the club.
So that’s what I keep repeating to myself over and over, hoping that my feelings will get buried sooner rather than later and I can move forward. That I won’t be mourning what I’ve wanted for years, that I won’t be thinking of this moment—being on the back of Gunnar’s bike, my arms wrapped around him, my body sore from being with him. My heart is full to bursting.
I hope I can forget all of this, that it will be nothing but a blip. A distant memory of what was. And what could never be. That’s a lot of hope I’ve got riding on it. But it’s all I can do, because if I don’t, I could ruin a lot of lives.
Something I would feel immense guilt about.
Something I refuse to feel guilty about because I’m not going to let it happen.
The ride back to my place is too short. I wish it were about an hour or five longer, but as the bike pulls up and the engine is turned off, I let out a heavy sigh. It’s back to reality. Back to my life and planning for my unknown future.