Tamina

My body feels heavily, like there's an invisible mass holding me down, only most of it rests over my lower region and down my legs. I'm eager to open my eyes, but there are two reasons why they don't budge: I don't want to start a new day, and I'm afraid he's not here. Biting my lower lip, they swing open only to slam shut when the blinding streaks of sunlight catch me. Rubbing them slowly, they finally peek open and everything feels eerily quiet.

The sheets feel silky underneath my fingers, and that's the only thing I can feel. No warm muscle or glimpses of rustled fabric covering another, and there's no heat. Craning my head over the covers, there's no sign of a handsomely naked form approaching from the joint bathroom or stretching from just rising from bed. Instead, there's a parchment of paper lying on the side I'd left him last night, where it's neat and tidy.

Confusion clouds my mind, even though I'd be happy just to wake up to him sound asleep, a note saying he's shopping for breakfast is the next best thing.

Good morning, Tamina, I hope you slept well. Last night was perfect, and I can't thank you enough, nor can I wait for us to share that moment again. I'm sorry I'm not there with you right now, work needs seeing to, but I'll have a driver sent to you just after lunch to allow you time to freshen up. Don't forget to eat, you need to remain healthy; room service is free at your disposal. I love you, and I'll message you when I'm free, have a good day xx

To say I'm filled with a discomforting amount of disappointment is an understatement, but I should've expected this beforehand. After all, Brandon did warn me of this when we decided to get together.

But why does it feel as if I've been used?

Sighing, I throw my head back, only to hear a quick wrap against the door. Groaning, the thought of facing someone feels unbelievably nauseating. It would be wishful thinking of it being Brandon, so that notion instantly flies to the back of my mind.

"Housekeeping!" a cheery voice calls, and it's a man at that.

Clearing the hoarseness from my throat, I holler, "Would it be OK if you come back in a moment?"

"I'll be quick, routine check!" they retort, and my heart sinks at the notion I'm not going to have some alone time to wallow in my own pity, that, and the morning he promised is out of the window.

After a few minutes, there's no sign of them leaving, and a heavy sigh comes from me as my head ducks under the covers when I call them in. The sound of the door opening and closing catches my attention, and all I can taste is strangely nothing, and the smell of sex on the fabric stirs my stomach. The longer I'm under here, the more unnerving it becomes, and it doesn't help now that the footsteps sound as if they've stopped beside the bed.

Taking a deep breath, my fingers work their way up to grip the pillow tightly, and when the mattress dips beside me, I lurch up with a cry and swing with all my might, only for a hand to catch the stuffed object inches from their face. When they peek around it, a squeak comes from me when their identity sinks in.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I squeal.

"What? Not happy I didn't steal a maid's uniform?" Lucius muses, waggling his eyebrows before setting the pillow down beside him, and then his eyes slightly widen before diverting away from me.

Confused, I'm about to voice it when the covers brush down my shoulders, leaving me to hastily pin them against my body before he gets an eyeful.

"Can you leave for me to get dressed?" I ask, my gaze glueing itself to my covered legs.

"In a bit, sweetheart. Anway, where's Brandon?"

"How did you know we were here?" I dodge.

With a surprisingly lazy shrug, he says, "It's not the first time he's brought a woman here, it was a hunch. I arrived not that long ago if you must know, now answer my question."

The way he said those words. . . they came out so easy, like there's no worry what effect they may have, or how they may sound, and it bugs me—even if it weren't that sentence, his easiness bothers me. Tracing my finger over the cover, I keep my voice cool so he won't see the effect they have on me. "He's nipped out to buy us breakfast, he won't be happy when he returns."

Lucius shifts in his spot. "Is that right?" he muses, eyes holding a sort of air that says I know something you don't. "I thought you would be. . . happier after spending a night with him. Let me guess, wasn't good in the sack?"

My cheeks boil, and the laugh he emits only infuriates me more. Shifting, a small groan falls from my lips, and after what feels like forever, I'm finally able to sit up. When my eyes swing to his, they're deflated of any humour, and as much as I'd enjoy it, not for this reason.

"It really was your first time. . ." he whispers, scrubbing his jaw.

Embarrassment floods through me. "I-I wouldn't lie about that. Honestly, if you came to gloat or try to rain on Brandon's parade, you failed. I slept with him because I love him, and he loves me." A small sigh comes from me. "Whatever he did in the past is between the two of you, and it should stay there if you two can't sort it out."

For once, Lucius is stunned into silence, and I'm about to kick him out when he adds with a playful grin, "You should have sex more often, it makes you even more feisty." My body shifts uncomfortably under the sheet in response, and he catches it. "You don't look good."

I scoff, gripping the covers. "Geez, how do you find all these women?" I roll my eyes. "You sure do know how to woo a woman."

Lucius' eyes narrow and the corner of his lip pulls down. "If I wanted to seriously woo you, you would know about it, sweetheart."

The look in his eyes have me swallowing back my words, and when his gaze drops to my lips, my tongue unconsciously sweeps over them.

"Please, leave so I can get dressed." My words come out harsher than intended, but I'm tired, and my body hates me right now; I'd rather deal with him when I have my wits about me.

Or never deal with him.

And I think my sheet tugging finally hits the nail on the head when he rises to his feet, but the look in his eyes is squinted in displeasure.

"Fine. Be like that," he grumbles. "See if I care."

A sigh of relief comes from me, and when I feel it's about time I'm able to relax, his body bends down and swipes up the note that was left to me. The smirk he wears is humorous. "What's this? A love letter?"

My heart is thudding in my chest, and it feels sluggish. "Please, don't read that!"

"Are you going to stop me?" When I don't answer, he grins. "Good morning, Tamina. . ."

Swivelling stiffly on the mattress, my limbs work enough for me to rise, but shuffling and bending down to collect my clothing proves to be rather difficult. I'm not sure why it hurts this much, but I know for sure I don't want to go through this again.

Perhaps I'm just not used to being held in one place for so long without stretching.

My eyes widen when my legs falter, and it doesn't help that Lucius is holding my dress and his face is inches from my own. Before anything can happen, his hands are quick to grip my hips and pull me close. I'm thankful I didn't fall flat on my face, but it's most likely better than being this close to a man—let alone Lucius—naked behind a sheet.

A wince falls from my lips, and Lucius is quick to shift his hold onto my upper arms, and the hardness of his eyes has mine dropping to the floor. His fingers curl around my chin to jolt it up again, and the words he murmurs shock me.

"He left you alone. . ." The blue in his eyes blaze to life. "You're going to tell me what's going on with you."

All I can smell is him, his musky cologne from the event, and the mint dancing on his breath, and it's too much mixed with his gentle hold. It makes me feel vulnerable. Strangely, his eyes shift from mine, but the sudden trembles taking over his body alerts me instantly.

Following his line of sight over my shoulder, I'm able to see what has him in such a fit, and my lips fall open silently while my hands ball to prevent their own shakes. Small streaks of crimson stain the sheet, and my mouth turns dry.

That can't be from last night. . .

"What did he fucking do to you?" he demands, tilting my chin once again to glare down into my eyes. "Tell me."

My lower lip trembles, hating the emotions he's provoking, like how it's making me feel as if I've done something wrong, even though I haven't. "H-he was just a little rough, it's fine. . . I told him to do what he thought was right since. . .."

The rough movement of the fabric shifting off my hip has my hand gripping his, and the sudden gentleness behind his actions leave me speechless. Lucius is careful in keeping my private parts covered, but the pads of his fingers are like a ghostly caress as they drift over my skin. He's not at his full height, and it stuns me, but the anger raging behind his gaze is freezing me in place.

Stiffly turning my view onto myself, I suck in a sharp breath. Small bruises dot over my skin, and it nearly brings tears to my eyes.

"I'm going to fucking kill him."

I shake my head. "I-I told him to—"

"What?" he seethes. "Don't tell me you actually enjoyed being fucked as if your worth nothing, like a possession?" The muscle in his jaw ticks, and my body instinctively tries to jerk back, but he keeps me pinned, even from his position. "If that's the case, I'll bend you over that sideboard right now and show you just how much of an animal a man can be."

A shocked breath falls from my lips, and the strength falters in my legs from the spitefulness behind his words, but his arms are quick to wrap around me, but instead of letting go, he stares down at me with regret, and what must be sympathy. It does something weird to my chest, but there's nothing I can do about it.