Once, my paranoid love

“Let me handle this,” Derek’s voice, soft and reassuring, came from behind me. He reached for a dress and handed it to me with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of the moment.

Derek took a dress from the closet and handed it to me. With trembling hands, I grabbed the cloth. His touch was gentle, and his grip on my hand was firm, anchoring me in a moment that was fraught with unspoken tensions.

Derek’s voice broke the silence, his questions revealing his curiosity and concern. “Are you afraid of me? And, once again, why did you address me as Mr.?”

I stammered, my words coming out in a nervous rush, “No, I’m sorry.”

Derek drew me closer to him, his touch serving as both a reassurance and an inquiry. “You are trembling, why?” he asked as he studied my quivering form.

I nodded in response, unable to articulate the source of my unease. The events of the morning had left me feeling unsettled, and Derek’s abrupt change in behavior had only added to the confusion.

Whenever Derek touched me, it was as if a current of electricity surged through my body, sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to regain my composure.

His hand found its way to my waist, a tender gesture that held both warmth and concern. “You’re all drenched. Why are you so reckless?” Derek inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of worry and frustration.

Derek’s touch on my shoulder was gentle, and he started to wipe away the water droplets that clung to my skin. I felt a comforting warmth in his presence, and in that moment, I couldn’t help but react instinctively. Without opening my eyes, I clutched his shirt and buried my face in his chest, seeking solace and refuge in his embrace.

As I held onto him, my muffled voice reached his ears. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my words laced with guilt. “Last night, I went to meet him. He wasn’t eating, and I was just worried, nothing else.”

Derek’s response was gentle but firm, and he said my name, “Elena.”

In that moment, I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes or respond verbally. All I could manage was a nod, a silent acknowledgment of the complex emotions that swirled within me.

Derek, sensing my vulnerability, gathered me into his arms.

Our gazes remained locked, and Derek’s hand gently wrapped around my hip. With cautious steps, he approached the bed and took a seat on the edge. I instinctively took a step back, feeling a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. What was his intention? I could feel his finger tracing a delicate path along my neck, and I closed my eyes in response. The simple touch sent a surge of warmth through my body, despite having just finished a shower.

Derek’s voice broke the silence, his words laden with a mix of protectiveness and concern. “Let’s stop talking about him. I don’t want to hear about what you did.”

However, before I could react, his husky voice added, “Let me wipe your hair.”

I had just divulged everything about last night, but he didn’t offer any immediate reaction or judgment. Instead, he focused on the simple act of wiping my hair. Confusion swirled within me as I contemplated his actions. What was the best course of action now?

I blinked open my eyes and bit my lower lip, struggling with my thoughts and emotions. I hadn’t realized that, in my internal turmoil, I had sunk to the floor, positioning myself between Derek’s legs. As he began to wipe my hair with a fresh towel, I couldn’t help but question the boldness of my actions. Was I overstepping boundaries? Should I apologize once more?

My head leaned against him naturally, as if drawn by an invisible force, and I couldn’t fathom the reasons behind my actions. The intimacy of the moment left me feeling both vulnerable and overwhelmed. I questioned my own audacity, my heart racing with uncertainty.

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‘Elena, when will you accept me? I want to wildly love you and watch your every reaction to my touch,’ Derek thought as he tenderly wiped the water-slick strands of hair from her face. He had watched her from afar, yearning for the connection they’d yet to share.

Frustration and jealousy simmered within Derek. ‘What did you see in that bastard that you can’t even want to come close to me,’ he pondered. Derek couldn’t help but wonder what made Elena so drawn to someone else when he was right there, willing to give her the world.

Elena’s eyes remained shutting, lost in the soothing sensation of the warm water cascading over her. Her long, dark lashes caressed her cheeks, a delicate contrast to her porcelain skin. Derek’s gaze dipped to her lips, plump and inviting, a magnetic force he could hardly resist. The water flowed over her, caressing every curve of her body, emphasizing her innate sensuality.

A vivid memory from the night before played in Derek’s mind. Elena had been with him, yet her thoughts had seemingly wandered elsewhere, and it had left him frustrated and longing for more.

‘Why did you go to him always? Is my love not enough for you?’ Derek thought, his voice filled with an aching plea. He watched her chest move rhythmically, the gentle rise and fall, and couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy towards the man who had occupied her thoughts.

Unable to resist any longer, he leaned over, his lips brushing against her earlobe, and his tongue darted out to taste the lingering droplets of water.

**

As I slowly opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of his long, dark lashes, casting delicate shadows over his strong, angular features. He was so close, mere inches from my face. I felt a shiver trace its way down my spine.

My lips quivered ever so slightly, and I couldn’t help but bite down on them. I was determined not to make a sound, to maintain a facade of composure, but beneath the surface, my heart raced erratically, and my breath came in shallow gasps.

I lay there, my body frozen, my head resting on his thigh.