Chapter 19: I Treasure Your Soul

I lead her out of the lift when the doors open and I notice that she is focused on one of my Mother's paintings as I lead her through the foyer. I want to tell her about them, but that would be against the rules. I can't resist when I see which one has caught her interest though.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It's my favourite."

"It's incredible. Do you know the artist?" She looks like she wants to reach out and touch it. For some reason, it pleases me that she likes it.

"My mother." I hear the pride in my voice, but I wonder if she will hear it too. "All of them, they are all hers."

I used to love watching my mother paint as a child. She even tried to teach me, but I would always compare my pictures with her masterpieces and be sorely disappointed in them.

Mum wasn't though. She used to cover the fridge, the walls, the doors, any available surface with my pictures. She said they were the most beautiful pieces of art she had ever seen. She told me they were like treasure to her because an artist always puts a bit of their soul into their work and therefore those pictures held a part of me.

It's the same reason my foyer is full of her work; I treasure her soul.

I don't tell Aurora that though. I might have willingly broken a few rules tonight, but that would be too much. I've already told her more than I've ever told any of the girls I've brought home.

It's not that she's the first to comment on the paintings. Others have mentioned them. But she draws the information out of me. She makes me want to share with her, but I have to keep something of myself back.

No matter how many rules I break, this is still only for one night. It might be the best night of our bloody lives, but it will still be just one night.

When we enter my apartment, I give her a few minutes to adjust to it. Most women need a moment or two to get passed the extravagance of the place. They really are like magpies, most of them, craving expensive gifts and shiny pieces of jewellery and when they see my home, they realise that I have the means to give them what they crave.

She makes jokes about just how extravagant it is, and I can't help but laugh. It's nice not to feel like she's seeing pound notes all around her.

"You like it?" I ask, for some reason her opinion matters.

"Yeah." She nods. I'm unconvinced by her answer, but I don't question it. Her opinion shouldn't be important.

I pull her towards the sofa, and offer her a drink, asking if she wants anything, but she shakes her head.

"Only you."

Her answer is pure heaven to my ears.

"Good answer."

I sit and pull her into my lap and kiss her again because I don't think I ever want to stop. I start to take off her clothes. Her heart is racing; I can feel it as I remove her bra. She blushes again.

F*ck. That blush is hot.

She pushes against me, pulling me closer. I want more and from what I can see she does too.

"Please," she whimpers.

"Please what?" I ask.

"Please..." She's breathing harshly. "I want you."

I lick my lips because I can still taste her there and I don't think I'll ever get enough of the way she tastes.

She starts to undo my shirt buttons, and the feel of her lips on my skin is agonising. She flings my shirt away as if the idea of me wearing clothes is offensive to her.

I chuckle and get to my feet, lifting her into my arms. I want her in my bed. Now.

I've never been particularly patient and right now is no exception. I carry her across the room and down the hall until I reach my bedroom. I drop her onto the bed before pulling down her jeans and then her knickers.

I step back, giving myself a moment. I need to regain some control. I want this to last. I want to keep her here for as long as I can.

"What are you doing?" she asks tentatively.

"Just admiring the view." I smirk.