The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“It’s said he was buried with a locket that held a photo of
her.”
“Right. After a long life without her.” I searched his eyes.
He couldn’t seriously be asking me to be his mistress.
“I need you, Addie.”
“I couldn’t do that, Eli,” I whispered, blinking as fresh
tears brewed. “I couldn’t be your mistress, standing aside to
watch you father children with another woman. Children I
would want to share with you.”
“Fuck.” He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. It smelled
of whiskey when he exhaled. When he looked at me again, he
looked terribly sad, and I wished I could agree to whatever he
asked, but I knew deep down that I couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“I only feel free when I’m with you.” He inched closer,
his mouth merely inches from mine. “I only feel anything
when I’m with you. I don’t want to give this up. Je ne veux
jamais que cela s’arrête.”
My heart broke with his admission. I never wanted it to
end either. I didn’t respond. Not with words. I wouldn’t cave
to his demands just because I felt sorry for him in the
moment or because his words made me feel things I couldn’t
control. I’d been there and done that in the past and it left
me running for the hills. Instead of saying anything, I leaned
in and kissed him. It was a soft and tentative kiss that he
matched. His hands moved underneath the tank top I wore
and explored me as the kiss deepened. The gentleness of his
touch would be my undoing. Without words, I showed him
that I too only felt anything when I was with him, that
everything inside of me matched everything inside of him.
That knowing he had to marry another woman was killing
me slowly. As we undressed and kissed and touched and
explored each other’s bodies slowly, I started to cry because I
knew it would be the last time. This was the end for us and