Chapter 39
Thrity- Nine
“She gave herself to me and carved her name into my fucking soul.”–Cyan MacBrady.
Aria’s body is still molded against mine as I pull away from her lips, her breath warm, her skin flushed.
Finally. Fucking finally. The war she waged against me, against herself, is over–for now, at least. She might tell herself it was a lapse, a moment of weakness, but we both know the truth. She was always going to be mine.
I drag my fingers down her body, feeling the way she shivers.
She fits under me as though she was made for this—for me.
And fuck it, I’m not letting her go.I take my time as I pull out and rise, shoving my pants and boxers the rest of the way off.
My shirt’s still half on; I strip it over my head, watching her the whole time.
My Dove, her chest rising and falling in a dazed rhythm, eyes heavy from what we just did.
It feels right possessing her, marking her.
Hearing her scream as I fucked her senseless.
No war, no enemy, no ghost from my past can touch what happened here.
These blessed moments will be among my most treasured memories.
She’s still riding the high, lost in it, her gaze trailing over my body, drinking me in like she can’t help herself. Until her gaze drops between us.
I watch the exact moment pleasure drains from her face, replaced by something sharp and cold.
“We didn’t use a condom.”
I meet her stare without flinching. “I know.” Her nostrils flare. I fold my arms. “Aria, I know you’re on the pill”
Her eyes flash, and my stomach knots at what I see there. “That’s not the point,” she hisses. “There are other things to consider.”
I fold my arms, forcing my temper down. “I’m clean… I get tested regularly.”
“Cyan, I don’t know you. I don’t know where you’ve been. You could’ve fucked someone else before coming home and then—” What the fuck did she just say?
Fire punches into my chest. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
She lifts her chin, bare and beautiful and furious, the blush on her breasts at odds with the scorn in her eyes. “Let me rephrase. Do you fuck Elana without a condom?”
I go still. My spine snaps straight at the sound of that name on her lips. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. You took her to the mayor’s ball, didn’t you?” Her voice is sharp, but underneath it I hear something else. Raw hurt. “Were you trying to keep it secret?”
Now I understand, remembering Rosa’s warning…
Lucilla. That interfering, miserable woman.
I’ll have a word with Thomas. If she wants to burn down her own marriage, fine.
She can keep her poison words the fuck out of mine.
Kicking my clothes aside, I step closer.
“I’ve fucked—” I raise a finger, pointing right at her, “one woman without a condom.”
That makes her pause. She crosses her arms, glaring, as if she just caught me in a lie. “Cyan, even if I believed you, me being the only woman you fuck without one doesn’t make it okay if you’re fucking her too.” She still doesn’t get it.
“For fuck’s sake, Aria, I haven’t been with another woman since the night I met you.” It comes out harsher than I intend. Her eyes widen, but instead of softening, her temper spikes.
“You’re lying,” she spits, sitting up, breasts bouncing with the movement. “I don’t believe you.”
My jaw locks. It shouldn’t matter this much whether she believes me.
But it does. The disbelief cuts deeper than I’d ever admit.
“You don’t get it, do you?” I move closer, voice dropping.
“You’re not just another fucking notch.” She blinks.
“You’re the only woman in my life, believe it or don’t.
It’s still the truth.”I lean in, my face inches from hers.
“You think you can push me away? Run from this? From me?” My tone turns lethal-soft.
“It doesn’t work like that, Dove. You were mine the second I decided it.
No matter how hard you fight. No matter what bullshit excuse you use to keep me at arm’s length.
That won’t change.” Her pupils blow wide, her pulse fluttering in her throat.
Her body reacts even as she tries to hold the line.
“You can hate me. You can deny me, and you’ll still be mine.
Every. Fucking. Piece. Of. You.” I enunciate every word.
I press my forehead to hers, voice a low growl.
“No one else will ever touch you. No one else will ever fucking have you, and if they try… they die.”
I bite her lower lip, claiming it, claiming her, then release her enough to see the war in her eyes. Aria pulls back, leaning against the headboard, dragging the sheet up over herself. She turns her head toward the dark stretch of ocean beyond the glass.
“It’s not that simple, Cyan.” Her voice is unsteady. She rubs her arms. “You can’t just decide that. You don’t get to claim me like some prize.”
The words land between us like a weight.
I want to lay her back down and fuck the argument right out of her.
Instead, I turn away and head into the bathroom.
When I come back, she’s curled under the sheets, body marked in ways only the two of us will recognize.
My mark, my fingerprints, and my seed are still inside her.
I sit on the edge of the bed with a warm, damp towel and slowly drag the sheet back.
“Open your legs.” My tone is softer now. Coaxing, not commanding.
She hesitates, then obeys. I clean her with slow, careful strokes.
She says nothing, but her eyes tell the story—the war between wanting and resistance.
She knows she’s slipping. I slide my fingers along the inside of her thigh, watching the little twitch she can’t hide.
“Look at me.” She doesn’t. Stares past my shoulder instead.
“Aria.” My fingers brush over her clit, light and teasing.
Just enough to make her breath hitch, to remind her that for all her protests, her body already answers to me.
“Cyan… please let me go.” Her voice cracks. “I’ve given you what you wanted.” She swallows. “I’m not the right person for you. I bring chaos to the people I care about.”
My jaw tightens. I drop the towel and lean in, closing the distance between us. “You think I don’t know how broken you feel?” My thumb finds her again, circling with agonizing laziness. Her hips jerk. “That you don’t deserve happiness? That you ruin everything you love?”
Her eyes squeeze shut. She believes it. Every poisonous word.
“That’s a lie.” I tell her, before brushing my mouth over hers with caressing kisses.
My thumb presses more firmly against her sensitive nub, drawing a whimper from her lips.
“You are the right person for me,” I breathe out, my promise.
“I see you.” My fingers rub slow, torturous circles.
She moans, the sound raw. “What is it about you? Why can’t I make myself run?”
I slide lower, my shoulders nudging her knees apart. “Because in my shadow, you shine brighter than anyone else,” I say into the inside of her thigh. Then I drag my tongue slowly through her folds.
She comes apart with a broken sound, fingers fisting in my hair, pulling me closer. I chuckle into her, the vibration making her gasp. Her taste is addictive; sweet, earthy, entirely hers.
I lick, suck, tease, my tongue circling her clit, my beard abrading her in a way that makes her whimper and grind against my face. My cock throbs, heavy and aching; I wrap my free hand around it, stroking in time with my tongue.
She’s babbling now—words I don’t catch, only feel. Her thighs shake around my head. She’s close.
One sharp nip at her clit and she breaks moaning my name as she grinds against my mouth, soaking my tongue, my chin, like she can’t get close enough. I savor it, every second, every drop.
When I pull back, my cock is at the razor’s edge. She’s watching me, eyes glazed, chest heaving.
I stroke my length once, twice, and with a violent grunt, I spill across her mound, heat striping her skin. Another mark and warning that this goddess belongs to me.
I smear it over her, coating her pussy with me. A primal instinct, older than language. Wanting her covered in my scent so anyone with eyes, anyone with sense, knows she’s taken.
Forcing myself to step away, I head back to the bathroom for another warm towel. I want to take care of her. When I return, the bed is empty. The door stands open.
Before I can follow, she walks back in, still naked, holding two bottles of water. She stops in front of me and holds one out.
“Here.”
I take it. “Thanks.” I trail my fingers along her jaw, tilting her face up. “I’m nothing like other men, Aria. My obsession with you isn’t going to end.”
My thumb grazes her lower lip before I crouch and wipe her clean, slowly and thoroughly. Her eyes flicker with acceptance, maybe fear. It doesn’t matter. She’s mine.
She swallows. “What happens now?”
Instead of answering, I move to the bedside table, blocking her view as I open the drawer. When I turn back, the ring glints in my hand for barely a second before I slide it onto her finger.
“Next,” I say, leaving no room for argument. “We’re getting married.”
Forty
“Pleasure is never free. It marks you, claims you, and when it’s wrapped in power, it demands a price your soul may not be ready to pay.”—Aria Boschett.
Waking up with sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Cyan is gone—of course he is with everything going on.
I stretch my deliciously sore body as memories of last night with Cyan flood back.
The way we came together was raw and primal, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.Now I understand Tasha’s addiction.
Remembering his mouth on me sends heat licking across my skin, desire pulsing like a slow-burning flame.
If anyone asked, I’d swear I glimpsed the pearly gates.