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Love Me In Darkness

Love Me In Darkness

LoviPola

4.7
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Under the cover of darkness, when the night envelops the world, Pennelope Casey finds herself entangled with the man of her dreams. He exudes charisma, oozes sexiness, and what initially seemed like a fleeting encounter without introductions has now evolved into a year and a half of pure pleasure. While it may be a tad peculiar that he only graces her bed under the cloak of night, Penn is convinced that he is the perfect match for her, and she finds it impossible to turn him away. Ace Romano possesses a deep understanding of Penn that goes beyond her wildest imagination. She is undeniably stunning, fiercely independent, and cautious when it comes to relationships. However, Ace, as he is known, battles with his own inner demons, preventing him from forming meaningful connections with others. Nevertheless, when Penn becomes inadvertently involved in Denver's dangerous underground scene, Ace's protective instincts emerge with full force. The challenge lies in Penn experiencing Ace's commanding alpha demeanor in broad daylight, which causes her to question whether he is still the one she thought he was.

Chapter 1 ACE&PENELOPE - PROLOGUE

As the covers gradually glided down my body, I felt a gentle hand rest on the small of my back. The touch was incredibly warm, almost to the point of being scorching, as if the blood coursing through its veins raced faster than that of any ordinary man. If this were indeed the case, I wouldn't find it surprising.

With a heavy heart, I reluctantly opened my eyes, only to be greeted by darkness, as always, whenever he paid me a visit. In these moments, a recurring pattern emerged-a fleeting instance of lucidity. It was a fleeting moment when my rational mind urged me to shut my eyes, part my lips, and sternly instruct him to depart.

However, deep down, I knew that if I were to muster the courage to voice my desire for him to leave, he would oblige without uttering a single word. As silently as he appeared, he would vanish into the night, leaving me alone with my conflicting emotions.

And he'd never come back.

But this was the right thing to do. The smart thing to do. Thesanething to do.

And I was thinking of doing it, honest to God, I was. I thought about doing it every time.

Then I felt his weight hit the bed, his body stretching out beside mine, he turned me into him, I opened my mouth to speak and before I could do the sane thing, his mouth was on mine.

And for the next two hours, I didn't think at all.

But I felt. I felta lot.

And all of it wasgood.

* * * * *

The room remained shrouded in darkness as I observed the shifting silhouette of the man. Lying in bed, I quietly watched him glide about without making a sound, which struck me as rather peculiar. Apart from a faint rustling of his clothes, an encompassing silence enveloped his movements.

Even as an indistinct figure, it was evident that he exuded an air of powerful and masculine grace, an aspect that struck me as unusual. Witnessing my enigmatic visitor donning his clothes was akin to observing a mesmerizing display of a badass, macho dance – or at least that's how it felt to me. Of course, such a comparison is not something one encounters every day, except in my bedroom, when he paid his visits. Well, to be precise, when he prepared to depart.

I was so captivated by the scene that I could've sold tickets to this enthralling display. But the thought of sharing this intimate experience with others gave me pause. Already, it seemed like I might have unwittingly shared these private moments with half of Denver, each of them getting their exclusive glimpse of our passionate encounters. The mere idea of it messed with my head, along with the fact that he kept coming back, and I willingly allowed him to do so, culminating in shared pleasure, followed by his own satisfaction. Often, like tonight, the cycle would repeat.

To be honest, I wasn't exactly thrilled about the notion of sharing even more than I might already have.

I closely observed his every move as he made his way to the bed, my senses heightened with anticipation. He leaned in low, his hand generating a comforting heat on my knee, and his fingers curling around the back, while he placed a tender kiss on my hip, his lips delicately grazing my skin, sending tingles throughout my body. Then, with a swift motion, he pulled the covers up, revealing my waist as they cascaded down.

I was mostly lying on my belly, partially on my side, with my arm bent, and my hand nestled under my face on the pillow. His body shifted in my direction, and his fingers slipped under my hair, gently pulling it back as his lips found their way to my ear.

"See you later, babe," he murmured softly.

"Later," I responded in hushed tones.

Ever so slightly, he shifted his head, and his lips gently brushed against the skin at the back of my ear, followed by the tantalizing touch of his tongue. The sensation sent tingles coursing through my body, causing me to shiver with delight.

He considerately pulled the covers up, ensuring I was cozily tucked in up to my shoulder.

Then, with a swift and silent maneuver, he turned, and just like that, he was gone. Not a sound, not even the faintest creak of the door opening or closing. It was as if he had never been there in the first place.

It's simply mind-boggling, utterly crazy.

I gazed at my bedroom door for a while, my body feeling warm, content, and weary, but my mind didn't share the same sentiment. Turning onto my back, I wrapped the covers around my naked form and fixated my gaze on the ceiling above.

The truth was, I didn't even know his name, which made me whisper to myself, "God, I feel like such a slut."

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