Winning the Heir Who Bullied Me Chapter 114

Nathan freezes for a heartbeat. Then he unfurls, wrapping his arm around my waist as he pulls me in closer. I climb into his lap, straddling him.

My hands slide past his face into his hair, threading my fingers with his soft locks as our lips clash in a kiss that’s equal parts leisurely and urgent.

His hands brace against my back, pressing me into him tightly like he’s afraid to let me go.

I freeze when I taste salt and pull back ever so slightly.

“Oh, Nathan,” I breathe, pulling my hands back to wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks.

He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. “I love you, April.” The words shudder out of him, and I feel them in my soul.

“I—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get it. You’ve lost people before, and you coped. You picked yourself up and kept living. I’ve never lost anyone like that, but today, when…”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his eyes still closed like he’s watching a memory behind his lids. “When you chose Lucas today, it felt like I was losing you, and I can’t… I *can’t* lose you, April.”

I reach around me, grab his uninjured wrist, and bring his hand between us. I press his palm flat against my chest, right over my heart.

“You have me, Nathan,” I whisper. “You’ve had me since the first day of Sophomore year when I first saw you in Mr. Shefield’s office.”

He exhales.

I lean forward and press my lips against his eyelids gently, urging him to open his eyes. When he finally does, I hold his gaze, letting the stormy depths of his eyes draw me in.

“You *have* me,” I repeat. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re never losing me.”

I lean in, pressing our foreheads together so he has no choice but to look right at me. “Do you believe me?”

He sighs. “I’m a wreck, April. I—”

“You’re scarred and broken and lost, and sometimes you hate yourself so much, you can’t breathe.”

Nathan’s eyes flare wide for a second.

I press my lips to his. “I love every part of you, Nathan. Even the parts you hate.”

I pull back so he can see the honesty in my eyes. “*Especially* the parts you hate.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he chokes out.

“You deserve love,” I reply without missing a beat. I kiss him. “You deserve someone who sees you, really sees you, and runs towards you with open arms, not away.”

I kiss him again, feeling his body relax under my touch. “I’m that someone,” I say softly against his lips. “I’m here, Nathan, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He grips the fabric of my dress, pressing me impossibly closer.

My hands slip from his face and wrap around his neck. I bury my head in his shoulder, breathing him in, savoring the warmth of his body. The steady rhythm of his heart anchors me.

After what feels like forever, I hear him mumble grudgingly, “You look hot.”

I let out a breathless laugh and pull back slightly. “Blame the stylist team.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, cupping my cheek. “You have me, too, April,” he says tenderly. "Just so you know.”

I close my eyes and smile, leaning into his touch. “I know.”

I turn my head, pressing a kiss to the bruise around his wrist. I hear his breath hitch and feel his pulse jump against my lips. I smile and do it again.

His grip around me tightens a fraction as I cradle his hand against my face, pressing featherlight kisses into his inner palm.

“April,” he breathes softly.

I open my eyes, and my heart leaps into my throat at the hunger that darkens his eyes. *Fuck.*

His hand still in mine, I lean in and kiss him.

Unlike the tenderness of earlier, this kiss is firm, thorough. His tongue slides between my parted lips, stroking mine with an intensity that has my bones turning to jelly.

I release his hand to wrap my arms around his neck, drawing closer, so close I can feel his heart thundering against mine.

His hands drop and grip my thighs on either side of him, burning my skin through the sheer tights.

“April,” he groans against my lips. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Indulge me,” I nibble on his lower lip. “I’ve had the most awful date ever.”

I feel him smile against me, and I want to weep with relief.

“How awful?” he murmurs.

I trail my lips along his jaw, feeling the muscles clench. “When historians recount the world’s worst tragedies, they will start with this date.”

I think he means to scoff, but it comes out more like a gasp when I press a kiss to his neck.

“Did he talk your ear off?”

“They’re still bleeding.”

“Did he touch you?”

I remember the press of Lucas’ hands against my mouth, the fear that coursed through me when he did, and I forget my line.

I swear internally when Nathan stiffens and moves back. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping me from turning away.

“Did he touch you, April?”

I press my lips to his, allowing the safety and love I feel with him to wash away the terror I felt in that car tonight.

“I’ve since scrubbed my body with bleach,” I sigh against him.

“April—”

“Hey,” I kiss him again and press our foreheads together. “We’re done talking about Lucas. Lucas is inconsequential. All that matters now is you and me, okay?”

Nathan's eyes flicker between mine, like he can see through them to my memories. “You would tell me, right?” he asks hesitantly. “If he ever…tries anything inappropriate.”

Unbidden, the moment in the woods when we went glamping flashes through my mind. And then that god-awful dance at the ball.

*Wanna be my plaything?*

The last thing I want to do is lie to Nathan, even by omission, but absolutely no good will come from opening that particular can of worms. Especially after Lucas has practically declared he’s done with me.

So I shove it all into my mental box, chain it up tight, and push it down, down, down.

“No more Lucas,” I whisper, kissing Nathan again.

I slide my tongue between his lips, sweeping into his mouth. He lets out a low moan that vibrates through my entire body, concentrating low in my stomach.

It’s easy to forget about Lucas, especially when I press closer and feel Nathan’s erection pressing against me.

“April,” he groans. “We should stop, I can’t—”

I pull back slightly so our lips are still touching. “Can’t what?”

Slowly, deliberately, I roll my hips against his, and his breath hitches. “Seems to me like you can,” I breathe.

His eyes are almost pitch black. “I don’t have it in me to hold back tonight, April,” he bites out.

I lean in and kiss his neck. “Then don’t.”

His fingers flex against my waist. “You don’t understand—”

“I do,” I murmur, rolling my hips again. I close my eyes, struggling to breathe against the onslaught of pleasure the move elicits.

When I’m sure I’m not going to combust anytime soon—at least not yet—I pull back and stare straight into Nathan’s lust-darkened eyes.

“I want this,” I declare, more certain than I’ve ever been about anything. “I want *you*.”