D A C I A N
As Dacian retreated upstairs to his apartment, he was more physically sated than he could remember being. The sex had been better than he could possibly have imagined.
Fuck me. It was the best sex of my life.
With easily the hottest woman alive. And one he felt more connection with than he'd ever expected to experience.
And yet he was being torn asunder. His chest was painfully constricted and he felt like he couldn't breathe. Tears stung at his eyes as he closed the door behind him.
He couldn't lose her. He couldn't.
The simple fact of the matter was that Allie had quickly become his obsession. His addiction. His reason for living and his escape from the horrors of his past.
He couldn't give her up. He just couldn't. He wouldn't be able to breathe if he did. Wouldn't be able to get out of bed.
Wouldn't be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other and pretending to be okay.
Because he wouldn't be okay. Even more so than now – with his nightmares and his insomnia and his memories – if he lost Allie, he would very much not be okay.
I can't lose her. The four words that now defined his being.
He ran his hand down his face.
But according to his own principles, he could never fuck her again.
Every cell in his body rebelled against the thought. He'd finally found paradise, nirvana, heaven on earth, and he was contemplating giving it up? He couldn't do that either...
He was so totally fucked.