Chapter 33 - Of Mice and Men

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The bed is warm and comfortable. I burrow my face into the pillow and let my mind adrift before I suddenly open my eyes and blink. This is not my bedroom. The sunshine is stealing in from the gaps in the blackout blinds that cover several large windows.

I lift my head up and let my gaze wander. The bed is a mess. Someone had pulled a comforter over me but underneath it, the sheet is tangled around my legs. There are pillows strewn across the kingsize bed and on the floor.

The room is decidedly masculine with warm earthy tones of wood for the floor and walls and whites and greys everywhere else. The silky comforter that covers me is steel grey and the sheets and the pillows are all white.

The rumpled spot beside me is empty but the smell of his cologne and his male scent are strong everywhere, especially on the pillows and the sheets.

My eyes fall on the large black tufted leather headboard and the memory of sinking my nails into it as he pounded into me from behind flashes in my mind. He was frenzied, intense, and relentless.

I clenched my thighs together at the memory and avert my gaze from the headboard, afraid to look at it closely in case there are scratches or imprints of my nails marred the soft leather.

There's the delicious soreness everywhere in my body and when I flip off the comforter, I groan at the faint burn marks on my thighs from the graze of his lightly bearded jaw and cheeks.

He won. He did tell me that when we finally did it, it's because I wanted it, not because I was forced into it. And I did want it last night. I was begging for it. I want it now. I want him now.

But even without stepping outside the bedroom, I know that he's not here. The energy is different when he's not around. Now, it feels...empty. I don't know how I manage to "feel" him but our connection might have grown stronger after last night.

I push down this yearning I have for him and glance at the clock on the bedside table.

I have to stifle another groan when I see that it's already after 1 pm.

Last night, we couldn't get enough of each other and Sacha had amazing stamina that kept us awake all night, moaning and screaming each other's names. The sun was almost up when we both finally passed out from exhaustion. So, it's no wonder that I wake up late today.

Finally, I slide out of the bed to pad naked across his room to the ensuite that looks like a spa with white marble floor and walls. A shower enclosed in four glass walls stands right in the middle of the opulent bathroom. A deep bathtub with jets sits in a corner and there are stacks of thick white towels on a shelf in another corner next to the marble sink.

I brush my teeth with a new toothbrush that I found in one of the drawers and use his shower gel and shampoo that smells woodsy and spicy and very very masculine.

I intended to borrow one of his shirts after the shower, but I find my suitcases sitting on the floor in his walk-in closet.

Why are they in his closet? Am I sharing his room? I don't think it's a good idea for me to be sleeping with him every night. I am already lost in his magnetic pull and I can feel my wall crumbling. If I let him in more than I'd already had, by the end of this, there will be nothing left of me. I'd truly be destroyed.

I wander outside and find two more bedrooms. One is directly next to his and the second one is at the other end of the hallway. They're both beautifully furnished but smaller than the master bedroom. I choose the one furthest from his room and drag my suitcases into it.

I get dressed but leave the suitcases lying on the floor as I feel my stomach rumbling. I do smell something delicious coming from downstairs.

I find the cook, Molly hunched over the oven when I get to the kitchen.

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