Blasphemous Read online

  “Don’t tempt me, Bass.” My body was shaking from rage. From wanting to claw those spellbinding eyes. From wanting him to just leave me alone. Most of all, from the thrill it was giving me and the effect it had on my body.

  “Hit me.” When he saw that I didn’t make a move. Something flashed in his eyes and he smiled like the devil himself. “Is the thought of me with another woman making you crazy? Or is it the thought of me falling in love again that makes you go nuts? Is it because you want to be the only woman, Emma?”

  I shot towards him and hit him, mad. “I don’t care! Go fuck yourself. I’ve had something better than you! You are nothing to me,” I said with little composure as I growled against his stupid form.

  He made an animalistic sound before slamming my back against the mirrored wall. “Oh, did you now?” Bass was menacing as he caged me in between his hands. “Is that what you did tonight, Emma, getting to know a French cock better?”

  When I didn’t answer him after two seconds, he lost it. “Fucking answer me!” he bellowed, making my ears ring.

  “No, I didn’t,” I responded calmly, even though I was panicking inside.

  “Why do you make me suffer by throwing men in my face? You know how it will make me feel and yet you still goad me to the point of no return. You tell me you don’t care about me, yet I’ve barely touched you and your body quakes against mine. Why’s that, Emma? Is it because you’re remembering me now? You remember how I can make this body go under my spell?”

  It was a sick, twisted thing, but this was what we did to each other.

  Stay the hell out of my space. I started to panic when Bass was so close and with a mood that was too familiar to me.

  It was predatory, determined, and ruthless. If he tried something, I had a slim chance of surviving. “No, I don’t remember any of it. I’m quaking because you’re drunk and making me nervous.”

  My entire existence overheated when his thumb grazed the bottom of my lip. I badly wanted to move and run, but Bass’s spell had been cast upon me, his subject, and there was nowhere to go. Like a spider unto his prey, once captured and bitten, you stay there—paralyzed into a state of shock—but knew what was happening around you.

  “Your lips are quivering, anticipating my kiss. Is that what you want? For me to kiss you until we are both senselessly craving each other? These lips told me how much you loved me, tasted me, fucked me—milked every drop of my come until I was spent.” Both of our breathing hitched as he continued to torture and murder all of my senses. “But you know what I really loved about it, Emma? You simply tasted like my forever.” I think he waited for me to answer his question, but I was utterly incoherent.

  When he lowered his head and brushed his lips against mine, testing my resistance, I was putty in his hands. He kissed me hungrily at first then slowly, as if making love to my mouth. “Emma,” he whispered, loaded with emotions.

  The way he said my name simply broke something inside my heart.

  No. Don’t go there, I thought as I detached my lips from his. “Bass, we have to stop this.” However, his lips went to the side of my neck, licking and nipping his way into my heart.

  Fuck, I thought with alarm when he ground his hips against mine while his leg parted my thighs to situate himself in between my heat. “Then, stop me,” he rasped out before he bit into my neck. Making my pussy release another well of liquid, trickling out of my soaked slit. “Stop me.” His hands were everywhere, cupping my breasts over my dress, and then slowly caressing their way south. I held my breath as his hand touched the softness of my inner thigh, jolting a shot of electricity across my frame.

  “Bass,” I hissed when his finger hovered underneath the elasticity of my thong, caressing it back and forth, quite close to the lips, driving me with need. For him.

  His touch completely lit me on fire. After eight months, Bass was the only one who could make me feel like this. Only. Fucking. Him.

  I let out a groan when his finger finally touched my labia, making me crazy—inhibited and carnal. “You’re so wet. So fucking wet, always so fucking wet for me,” he observed with evident pleasure from finding me slick with thick essence.

  Bass was breathing so hard against my ear as his finger slowly circled the entrance—gradually teasing, biding time to deepen his spell on me. I was on the verge of collapse when his lips kissed my cheek, while his finger leisurely drove me insane as they trailed off quite close to my lips. “Stop. Me.” He panted out. His hot breath gave me sweet agony, pushing me to the tip of surrender.

  Our eyes clashed—one consuming and the other devouring. All the while his finger teased my wet opening. “Stop me, Emma.” He warned me for the last time, eyes tenacious with one goal in mind.

  I couldn’t. I hated myself for giving in to his ministrations, but hell, he just felt too good.

  His hungered gaze never left mine as he plunged his finger inside my hot core. It was swift and I bucked, gasping at the rough way he executed it. We both released a deep growl; sharing the same hunger we’ve denied ourselves for so long. I haven’t had anything in there for months that it felt like my orgasm was a finger away from flooding out of me.

  I bit my lip as his middle finger rubbed, stroked and fucked me while his thumb grounded against my nub, ruthless and relentless with one mission in mind.

  To drive me crazy.

  A frustrated sob came out of me, slipping away from any control I had left because I simply couldn’t take it anymore. “Bass.” I whimpered, begging for release.

  “You’re so close. Give in to what your body’s been craving for. Let it go, my love.”

  One arm was wrapped around his neck while the other was bunched on his chest as I tried to control and fight the lethal waves of orgasm preparing to release and combust out of me. I was whimpering, sobbing at the sweet agony he was giving me. Bass remembered my body so well because, when I was about to come, he kissed me with savage, raw need just to muffle my screams. Those screams came out like I was being slaughtered, but in truth, my body was being freed.

  I was still sobbing a few minutes later. I wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t stopped kissing me, or how he made my body give in to his amazing advances without a fight the second he touched me down there.

  When I tried to break the kiss, his hands captured my head, so I didn’t have a chance in hell of moving as he continued to kiss me into a puddle of confusion. “I’ve missed you, moro mou,” he whispered in between kisses.

  I could hear some noise in the background, but I was so drunk on Bass; nothing mattered except him. I was surprised how he didn’t try to have sex with me after what happened. It seemed as if he was content in only holding my face and kissing me like I was the most precious thing in his life.

  His kiss wasn’t rushed, each stroke of his tongue was used to pierce my armor. The way he deepened the kiss in such deliberate, concise slowness was as if he was telling me something.

  I love you, the only thought that emerged whilst kissing him.

  We both froze when we heard someone clear their throat. This time it was loud enough to break us apart. “Excusez moi, Mademoiselle Anderson and Monsieur Cole.”

  Bass looked so confused as he looked at me before he checked where the voice came from. The elevator was wide open, on the penthouse floor, as the two concierge men waited on us.

  Oh no. I wanted to die with embarrassment then. I didn’t even want to think if they caught his hand underneath my dress because if I did, I wouldn’t come out alive out of this elevator.

  Bass looked unruffled as he exchanged words with them in French. Then the gentlemen gave us a knowing smile before giving us a curt nod and hopping on the other elevator; I was too ashamed to move.

  When Bass finally focused on me, he smiled before striding towards where my purse sat on the floor, and then gave me a quick kiss before holding my hand. “They’re French. They understand passion more than anyone. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  Not
knowing what to say, I bit my lip instead, trying to reassure myself that he was probably right.

  Leading the way, we were silent as we strolled towards our rooms. My gaze shifted away from him when we stopped right outside my door. I was still pink with embarrassment.

  “We need to talk.” Bass reinstated again.

  Did we have to? I wasn’t sure if I was ready for this, but one look at his concerned face made me nod in response.

  Bass opened my purse to get my keycard and took care of it. The room immediately sprung to life the minute we entered. The opulent French décor in deep cream, hints of whisper pink, and light mocha along with embroidered classic gold furniture accents with the low-hung crystal chandelier made this place whimsical. Add the heady; intoxicating smell of roses and the awestruck view of the Eiffel Tower from the balcony and it was a piece of luxurious, romantic paradise.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No.” Bass’s gaze intensely followed me as I got myself a bottle of Lemon Sparkling Pierrer. With it in hand, I strolled towards the doors that opened to the balcony.

  I studied the beautiful view of the city as I opened my drink and took a lengthy sip. Leaning against the door with my back to him, I spoke, “What did you want to talk about?”

  I didn’t hear him move, but I felt his presence close behind me. “I want you back.”

  Four words. I want you back. Didn’t we talk about this a couple of days ago?

  Tensing, I contemplated what to say. “Bass, we already had this conversation. You told me to let you go and I have. What happened earlier… I’m really sorry if you thought that meant I was going back to you. My answer stays the same.”

  He took a sharp breath, moving his body closer to me. “I’ve—” he started to say before he continued in a lowered octave, “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, but that doesn’t mean we’re right for each other.”

  “Letting you go was a mistake. I thought it was the right thing to do. You have to understand how shattered and hurt I was when you kept a lot of things from me, Emma. I thought I was going to be fine without you, but living my life without you is a punishment I didn’t foresee.” He took one more step, closing the gap between our bodies. I felt his hard chest against my back while I closed my eyes, trying to fight for all the reasons why we couldn’t be together again. The tip of his nose brushed against the crook of my neck, inhaling me deeply, as he leisurely moved it about, sending a delicious shiver to my core. “You were everywhere. You haunted me in my dreams. You lingered in my thoughts, but more importantly, you ached in my heart, Emma. It bleeds your name.”

  His lips brushed against my neck, giving it a soft kiss before he appeared in front of me, blocking my view until he was all I could focus on. “I know I shouldn’t have the audacity to ask this of you after I’ve callously pushed you away, but I’m going to. So, here I am, standing before you, begging for your consideration, once again.”

  “What about Nikki?”

  He shrugged, as if it was of no importance. “It was nothing serious. It was a casual arrangement.”

  Heat suffused my body when he said arrangement. “How casual? Sex arrangement like what we had before?”

  “Ours was different, Emma.”

  Really, somehow I was having a hard time believing that now. “It isn’t really. How long have you been with her?”

  “A week or so after we started filming in Dallas and I ended it before I left. I told her in the beginning that I wasn’t after anything, but Nikki can be very persistent.”

  I bet Nikki was and you had a hard time resisting her, I thought loathingly. “Mind telling me about Berlin?”

  “I didn’t invite her. She came on to me, but I told her no. However, the cameras only captured the moment where she kissed me. I don’t want to be with her, Em.”

  My body wanted him back. Hell, my heart was screaming for him. My mind was hesitant, though—as it should be— because, when it came to Bass, I was entering a battle knowing that I was never going to win it. Why? Because Bass was my love; if he hurt, I hurt. That’s what we did, together and apart. What good was to come out of it?

  “I was truly heartbroken when you left me, Bass. I loved you and yet you wished me away. I was comatose, deeply wounded with hurt and pain, I barely recognized myself. The time we were apart, taught me to be strong. I proved to myself that I was okay without you. That it was possible to live without you; that I didn’t need an insane, consuming, nerve-wracking connection to be with another human being. I was fine, Bass. I survived.” And here you are again, wanting to shake that world I had made for myself.

  I wanted to reach out and take that anguished pain in his eyes, but that wasn’t my job anymore.

  Holding my chin up to meet his unwavering stare, it captured me and plucked me out of my senses. “Then let me prove you wrong. We have two more weeks left. All I want is for you to spend time with me—no sex or kissing of any sort. Just spending time with each other like how it was with us in the very beginning.”

  Was that even a good idea? True, sex and kissing made everything complicated between us. However—even without those two—being around him, would still evoke the same feelings. I loved him, spending time with him would put me in a position where I would be used to his presence again. If it didn’t work out, how did I survive again without seeing his smile?

  “Why would you want to propose something that would be physically unbeneficial to you?” I was so invested in him as it was, but I just couldn’t risk another breakdown. I just simply couldn’t. How did I guard my heart this time?

  “I want us again, like before. Before things went downhill. Sex with you was never truly sex to me, Emma. It was a way for me to show you how much I loved you. Every time I made love to your body, you felt it to your core that I was giving you a piece of my soul. It was never sex. It was a way to connect and feel that love in a genuine sense with no lies to cloud us over, no pretense to hide from—just us—you and me. A man and a woman, irrevocably consumed with this earth-shattering, fever-inducing emotion, so strong, so astounding that it left us breathless. It made us yearn for each other even if we were nearby.”

  Those azure depths lovingly caressed my face, seducing my will, my reason, and my fated soul. “Even now, we’re this close, but I know you feel it. The more you run, the stronger it becomes. We’re only mere mortals against something larger than life. It’s that power to fight, Emma. Kismet. It chose us. You and me, bound forever.” Bass shot the words out with emphasis.

  What the heck did I say to that? He wasn’t going to stop at anything to get what he wanted. So, here I stood, baffled, having no damn clue where to go from here.

  “Bass—”

  “Two weeks, Emma. No one will know if it makes you uncomfortable.” He cupped my cheek, stroking, while the air between us charged with tension. “Just let me be around you.”

  Was that even possible? “Two weeks, no kissing or sex and we keep it between us,” I reiterated his rules.

  “As promised.”

  Two weeks. Fourteen days. Was it possible to be around him and keep him at arm’s length the whole time? It wasn’t, but I intended to prove myself wrong. “I hope you won’t be disappointed if you don’t get what you want in the end, Bass.”

  “God, I want to kiss you so badly, but I promised.” He kissed my cheek instead. “The next two weeks will be torture, but I’ll endure anything to have you in my life. You’re worth every agonizing moment, Emma.”

  “We’ll see.” I didn’t want him to be too confident.

  “I do love you, if it makes a difference at all. I just want to tell you that I do.”

  For the first time, I gave him a genuine smile before retiring for the night. “Have a good night.”

  “See you in my dreams, my love.” He grinned, kissing my forehead. “At least there, I get to do wicked things with you.”

  “Goodnight, Bass.”

  “Goodnight, Emm
a.”

  Chapter 30

  “Of all pains, the greatest pain, is to love, and to love in vain.”

  - George Granville

  Bass

  The next day, we were waiting in the guestroom until it was time for our interview when Dimitris started getting suspicious. “What’s wrong with you two? Why aren’t you guys fighting?”

  “What do you mean? I don’t fight with him that often.” Emma looked up from her phone whilst typing away.

  I hid back a smile, feeling a little heady that I could get close to her when we’re in private. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but if I had to grovel to get her back, I’d happily do it.

  I wondered who she was texting/emailing since her phone was constantly beeping. If it was Carter again, then I was in deeper trouble. His advantage under my absence possibly gained him much favor, but I was in despair and, if I had to fight for Emma again like I did before, then I would gladly do it all over again. I had two weeks without Carter’s presence. I had to efficiently use that to my advantage.

  When it was time to get on set, I purposely slowed my pace so I could get to touch her, smell her—something of her—to last me until tonight. Reaching ahead for her elbow, she gave a startled look, then calmed down when she saw it was me. “I just wanted to say hi.”

  Emma’s cheeks slowly flushed. The more time I spent with her, the more I noticed that the old Emma was still there. These were the little things that I loved about her. She was sultry and shy. Polite, but has a tendency to curse like there’s no tomorrow. She was feisty, yet vulnerable. Classy, yet a closeted animal in bed. A complicated mixture of good girl and bad.

  We were silent as we drank each other in, barely registering that we had stopped walking.

  “I might not get a chance to talk to you later since our schedule is pretty hectic today, but I just want you to know that I miss you.”

  “We’ll be working together for the rest of the day. How can you miss me? I’m right here.” Emma’s beautiful face contorted in a questing frown.