Take a bite of the Forbidden Love

Chapter 3

The morning sun filtered through the heavy, charcoal-tinted drapes, casting a muted glow across the room. Levitt stirred, her consciousness slowly returning through a thick fog of sleep. The first thing that registered wasn't the light, but the scent—rich, intoxicating notes of cedar, rain, and a clean, masculine warmth. It wasn't the sweet, vanilla aroma of her own room.

Then came the physical realization. The mattress beneath her was firm, holding her body with a structured support completely unlike the feather-soft plushness of her own bed.

Panic flashed through her veins. Levitt's eyes snapped open.

The sight before her stole the breath straight from her lungs. She was tucked flush against a broad, bare chest. A heavy, muscular arm was wrapped securely around her waist, pinning her to a body radiating pure heat. She looked up, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, and met the sleeping face of Demetrius. His sharp features were softened by slumber, his dark hair messy and falling over his forehead.

Memory rushed back in a humiliating wave—the freezing night, the lavender tea, the sheer exhaustion that had made her turn the wrong doorknob. She was in Demetrius's bed.

A wave of sheer terror crashed over her. If anyone found out, if Aunt Renee or Uncle Peter walked in...

Holding her breath, Levitt carefully slid her hand down, trying to lift his heavy arm off her waist. She moved millimeter by millimeter, desperate to sneak out before he woke up. But the moment she managed to create a fraction of space, the arm around her waist suddenly turned to iron.

Instead of letting her go, Demetrius tightened his hold, pulling her forcefully back against him until there wasn't a breath of air between them.

"Don't go," he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly morning rasp that sent a shiver straight down her spine. He didn't open his eyes. Instead, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, his warm breath teasing her sensitive skin. "Stay. Just for a few more minutes."

Levitt froze, her mind screaming at her to fight it, to be rational, to remember the four years of discipline and walls she had built. But looking down at him, feeling the solid, undeniable reality of him holding her as if she were the only thing that mattered, her resolve shattered. The burning, forbidden desire she had buried so deeply finally won. Just this once, she told herself. Just for this fleeting morning.

Giving in, Levitt let out a soft breath she didn't know she was holding and relaxed into his embrace. Her fingers trembled slightly as she raised her hand, finally allowing herself to do what she had dreamed of for years. She gently ran her fingers through his dark, thick hair, caressing the soft strands.

Demetrius let out a low, satisfied growl at her touch. His lips pressed against the warm skin of her jawline, moving slowly, deliberately down to the sensitive column of her neck and her collarbone.

A soft, helpless moan escaped Levitt's lips as his mouth claimed her skin, the heat of his kisses sending waves of electricity through her entire body. She arched slightly into him, her hands gripping his shoulders as the sheer intensity of the moment threatened to consume her.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Demetrius murmured against her skin, his voice thick with a raw, uncharacteristic tenderness. He peppered soft, sweet whisperings between kisses, telling her how beautiful she was, how he had hated the distance between them, how he never wanted to let her go.

Hearing those sweet nothings from the otherwise cold, untouchable Demetrius filled Levitt with a dizzying, euphoric happiness. But right alongside the joy, a cold spike of fear pierced her chest.

Even as she melted under his touch, her mind flashed to images of Aunt Renee's disappointed face, Uncle Peter's stern disapproval, and the vicious, unforgiving gossip of New York's high society. To them, she was the charity-case niece who had crossed an unforgivable line with the youngest son of the empire.

Clinging to him in the dim morning light, Levitt felt entirely alive, and utterly terrified of the storm they were about to unleash.