Take a bite of the Forbidden Love

Chapter 9

The storm had passed by morning, leaving the New York skyline washed in crisp, pale sunlight. Levitt woke up slowly, the golden light warming her skin as she stirred against the soft sheets. Turning her head, a soft smile immediately graced her lips.

Demetrius was right there beside her.

As she shifted, a sharp, dull ache blossomed deep within her thighs—a physical reminder of the intense, passionate way he had claimed her virginity last night. She bit her lip slightly, but the discomfort was easily drowned out by the overwhelming warmth swelling in her chest. She ignored the soreness completely, propping herself up on one elbow to look down at him. To her, he was, without a doubt, the absolute best thing that had ever happened to her.

Without the cold, distant armor he wore at the mansion, he looked breathtakingly handsome. The sharp lines of his jaw were relaxed, and his dark hair was a messy, endearing contrast to his usual perfectly combed style.

Unable to resist, Levitt lifted her hand, gently hovering the tip of her index finger over his forehead. Slowly, tenderly, she traced the line of his brow, the bridge of his straight nose, and down to the fullness of his lips.

Suddenly, a large, warm hand clamped around her wrist, halting her finger right at his chin.

Levitt gasped softly as Demetrius's dark eyes flicked open. A lazy, wicked smirk instantly spread across his face, his morning voice deep and scraping against her ears. "Caught you. Are you always this sneaky when you admire me?"

Levitt's cheeks burned a furious crimson, and she tried to tug her hand back, looking away defensively. "I wasn't admiring you. Your hair just looked messy, that's all."

Demetrius let out a rich, deep sound that started in his chest and broke into a genuine, unbridled laugh. It was the first time in four long years Levitt had ever heard him truly laugh, and the sound was so beautiful it made her heart skip a beat.

"You're a terrible liar, sweetheart," he murmured, his smirk softening into something incredibly tender. Before she could protest further, he pulled her down by her wrist, rolling over until he hovered over her.

He didn't give her a chance to speak. He kissed her—a soft, lingering morning kiss that tasted of warmth and possessive affection. When she melted into it, he pulled back just an inch, only to press another kiss to the corner of her lips, then her cheek, her jaw, and back to her mouth, kissing her again and again until she was breathless and giggling softly against his chest.

"Come here," he whispered against her skin, effortlessly lifting her from the bed.

Levitt wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her into the small, modern bathroom. The soreness in her muscles flared again, and she buried her face in his shoulder with a tiny whimper. Demetrius immediately noticed, his arms tightening around her securely. He set her down gently on the bath mat and turned on the shower, waiting until the glass enclosure filled with thick, billowing steam.

When he guided her under the spray, the warm water cascaded over them, instantly soothing Levitt's aching body.

Demetrius stepped in behind her, his large hands immediately finding her waist. The water slicked his dark hair back, accentuating the sharp, striking angles of his face. He took a bottle of body wash, working it into a rich, fragrant lather between his palms before placing his hands on her bare shoulders.

His movements were no longer driven by the frantic, hungry desperation of the stormy night. Instead, he washed her with a reverent, torturously slow gentleness. His soapy hands glided down her back, smoothing over the curve of her waist and thighs, his touch a silent apology and a healing balm for the soreness he had caused.

Levitt leaned back against his broad chest, letting her eyes close as the hot water and his touch worked through her fatigue. She turned around in his embrace, lifting her hands to wash the remaining rainwater and sweat from his skin, her fingers tracing the hard ridges of his chest.

Demetrius looked down at her through the falling water, his gaze burning with a quiet, profound intensity. He cupped her face, tilting her chin up as the shower drenched them both, and kissed her deeply amidst the rising steam—a promise that the hidden, agonizing years behind them were finally over, and this was just the beginning.