20. Galena #2
"You said they talked. Did they say why?" He nodded once, looking as if he’d rather not say. “You told me you wouldn’t lie.” The reminder tasted like ash in my mouth, but I wanted to know. Burned to know why those men thought it was okay to take, and take, and fucking take.
“Scarpato wanted to make a point. To the Commission. To us.” The words seemed to cost him, but he didn’t look away even as they hung between us, suspended in a haze of bitter memory.
“He wanted it to be personal to Maxim and me. Most of our loved ones are protected. You and your mother weren’t. That was the excuse anyway.”
"And my mother and I were that message." I let the truth settle into the hollow space behind my ribs. It burned, but in a way that clarified things. Focused me. I looked back up at Ilias, and this time I studied him more closely.
"Yes, you were that message.” He obviously didn’t like having to tell me. The light caught the bruise along his jaw. Another mark I hadn’t noticed before. He looked like hell. Like a man who hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't stopped moving.
"I don’t know if I can do it,” I admitted, voice tight. "I want to. I think I need to. But now that it’s real, it just..."
He nodded slowly, his hand reaching forward to curl around mine.
There were callouses on his palms and fingers, a roughness that made me wonder what he did to get them when he wore his fancy suits.
"You don’t have to decide today. Or tomorrow.
Or ever, if it doesn’t feel right. This is your choice.
Yours. No one else's. Remember, you don’t have to go. They’re going to die either way.”
The way he said it—calm, unflinching—gave me more permission than anyone ever had.
"That day … it felt like they were taking all my power from me. I kept thinking, if I could have one moment back, if I could scream louder, move faster … maybe things would have turned out differently.”
“Well, this will be your choice. A chance to take your power back if you want to. But it’s up to you. You can do it yourself or not. I’ll help you if you want, or I’ll do it for you. It would be my privilege.”
"You didn’t have to do all this," I whispered.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing faintly. “What do you mean? You’re my wife.”
Something about the way he said it made me want to cry. "I don’t want to be a burden."
His expression darkened. “That’s the last thing you are. You don’t owe anyone your healing. Least of all me. It’s a privilege to be your husband.”
Silence stretched.“Why?"
He didn’t speak for a long moment. Just looked at me, like he was weighing how much to say.
His fingers flexed on mine. "Because I see you, Galena. Not just the broken parts. All of it. You walked into hell and made it out the other side. And even now, when you’re shaking, you’re still standing.
I’ve known men who would fold under less. "
I swallowed hard. My heart pounded as I searched for the right words to begin the conversation I wanted to have.
“That’s a lot to see in someone you barely know.
” A smile played around the corners of his lips.
I nodded slowly, breath catching. “I don’t want to be protected from this, Ilias. I want to see the end.”
“You will,” he said. “But only when it’s time. Only when I know you’ll walk away from it intact.”
I searched the expression on his face. There was weariness there, but also remnants of the rage he kept leashed. Then, softer, I added, “I’ve been wondering if you’ve been avoiding me.”
He blinked, surprised. “Avoiding you?” His fingers tightened, and he pulled me a little closer.
“We haven’t really talked. I don’t know what we are or what I mean to you.
There was a lot of talk about us being roommates, but things have been shifting.
” My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to look into his eyes.
I needed us to have this conversation so I could move forward.
It felt as much a part of moving forward with my life as catching the men involved in the attack on me and my mother.
He stepped into my space slowly, as if he didn’t want to startle me. “Did you want me to stick to that promise, liakáda? It was a mistake on my part to make it anyway.”
“No. I don’t want you to keep it. I want you to break it into a million pieces. I want to be your wife for real. I don’t want to be a roommate or pretend.” The admission was a leap of faith, but I didn’t want to tiptoe around what I wanted. I wouldn’t leave it to chance or have him guessing.
His eyes darkened, pupils dilated in a way that made the apex of my thighs dampen. “I hope you know what you’re asking for. God help you now.”
Then he kissed me.
Hard.
Hot.
My breath rushed out of me as I pressed into him, fingers fisting in the front of his shirt. His mouth was demanding, reverent, claiming. My heart pounded wildly as heat surged through every inch of my body.
He picked me up in one smooth motion, carrying me up the last flight of the stairs to the floor where his suite was. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, my lips finding his neck. He smelled like rain and soap and something unnamably male that made my knees weak. Sweat.
We didn’t speak as he carried me to his bedroom. He shut the door with his foot, his hands everywhere—my back, my waist, my thighs.
“You say the word—and we stop. Nothing happens unless you want it.” He looked at me hesitantly.
“I don’t need you to stop,” I breathed, pulling his mouth back to mine.
What began as soft touches quickly gave way to heat. He laid me out on the bed like I was something precious he intended to unwrap one layer at a time—but with the focus of a man used to control, to restraint, to knowing how far he could push.
“I can’t wait to take my time with you," he murmured, voice velvet over gravel as he stripped off my shirt. “To learn every place that makes you gasp and moan.”
Already, I was primed to explode, needy and panting as his hands glanced over my hips, tracing every curve as if he were thinking about where to start.
He stripped me slowly, purposefully, his fingers brushing reverently over bare skin, lighting sparks down my spine.
Every button he undid, every inch of fabric he peeled away, came with that steady, watchful heat.
His calloused fingertips brushed against my skin with whispered touches, avoiding the peaks of my breasts, my aching nipples, or my dripping pussy that I wanted to grind against him.
When he stood back to look at me, I was naked and open beneath the soft lamp glow. I should’ve felt exposed. Instead, I felt worshipped and beautiful.
He kissed the inside of my wrist, his tongue flicking out to taste the pulse point. “Hmm, you even taste like sunshine.” Then he repeated the motion at my throat, hovering over me as he nipped at the skin there before moving to my breasts. “I want to see you unravel for me piece by piece.”
Then his mouth was on me—hot, deliberate, relentless.
He licked and kissed and sucked, and I lost all ability to hold back the moans that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside me.
He drew pleasure from me like he was learning it, committing every sound to memory.
He kneaded my flesh in his hands, molding it and cradling my breasts together, his eyes hot on mine before taking my nipples in his mouth and gently biting them in turn, all while watching me carefully as if he were doing just what he said he was going to do — learn what made me gasp and moan.
“I love your tits, and I think they like me,” he cooed, molding them in his hands one by one as he sucked each nipple into a peak. “See how rosy they are. Like flowers.”
Need pulsed through me, and by the time he rose and undressed, my body was flushed, writhing, and desperate.
Ilias was even more impressive naked than when he was clothed, if that were possible.
Muscles on muscles with that magical V-shape that you saw on bodybuilders.
Obviously, he worked out. I’d feel inadequate if he weren’t staring at me with such abject worship or if he weren’t so turned on.
As soon as he was naked, he had gripped his dick so hard I thought he’d hurt himself.
It was thick and long with pre-cum already leaking from the purple tip.
I wasn’t sure it would fit if I were being honest. I was tiny in comparison to him.
He kept his eyes on me constantly, even now as he slid my thighs apart. “Let me see this pretty pink pussy. Open for me.”
Sliding my thighs wide as he asked, I was gratified by the twitch to his dick, but then mortified when he bent down and gave a long inhale. Was he smelling me? Instinctively, I tried to close my legs.
“Don’t,” the command was immediate, stopping me in my tracks.
“God, I could almost come by the scent of you.” His finger grazed just the edges of my folds, gathering the wetness on the tips of his fingers before dipping tantalizingly inside my channel as I fought to keep still and not rock up onto his hand.
“You’re so beautiful, and this pussy is so perfect.
Dripping for me isn’t it? So fucking wet. ”
“Yes.” The word was a moan as he continued to slide his finger lazily into me. “ Please .” I gripped the sheets in my fingers, trying to keep my hips still.
Crouching between my thighs, he nuzzled my clit before attacking with a vengeance, latching onto it as he sucked it into his mouth before adding another finger, stroking them into me in an undeniable rhythm.
Stars were just appearing behind my eyes when he eased off my clit, the pinnacle I’d been climbing falling away .
“No, no. Ilias, I was so close.” The frustrated whisper slipped out, but he paid me no mind as his fingers continued at a slower pace.
“Be patient. I’ll make it good for you. You’ll see.” Bending over me, he cupped one of my breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth, driving my need even higher as each tug seemed to be timed to the drive of his fingers.
“ Please .” My hands strained on the sheets, and the muscles of my thighs trembled as they spread for him, the need curling in my belly.
“Today we’ll go easy,” he whispered, giving my ear a little bite.
“You’re going to come now.” He bit hard on my nipple and speared his fingers into my channel, curving them into me so that his thick fingers hit my g-spot on each stroke while his thumb strummed my clit.
I came in a rush, my body exploding like I’d rocketed away from Earth and fallen back again.
“Jesus,” I mumbled as he pulled his fingers from me and sucked them into his mouth, watching me with gleaming eyes.
“Like sunshine. I’m going to be eating this pussy every day.” I wanted to clench my thighs around his hand and trap it there. “Do you like that idea?” he asked as he watched me. “You do, don’t you, you naughty girl?” He reached for a foil packet.
I didn’t bother answering because he was keeping up his own steady stream of dialogue while he ripped open the packet with his teeth and rolled it on. My pussy clenched while I watched him, already anticipating the feel of his dick inside me. I couldn’t wait.
“You’re so pretty when you come. I’m going to make sure it happens again.
” He slid into me, slow and thick and perfect, I gasped—because even though I’d imagined this moment, nothing had prepared me for the way he filled me, stretched me.
“Again.” Thrust. “And again.” Thrust. “I’m going to fuck you every chance I get. ”
His pace was deliberate. Controlled. He held my hips, dictating every micro-movement. “You feel what I’m giving you, wife?”
“Yes.” The answer was automatic, the pull deep within me as I locked my gaze with his.
He kept his eyes on mine as he moved deeper, voice rough. “Say my name.”
“Ilias.”
“Good girl.” He stretched my legs wider as he watched the way he fit into me, sliding with deliberate slowness. “We were made for each other. Look at how you take my dick. Sucking me in so deep. The things I’m going to do to you now, Galena.”
His words stoked the flames even higher. “Good. I want to do them all.” The feeling was just there, out of reach, aching. The moan that escaped him as his hips snapped forward pleased me. I was glad this was just as difficult for him as it was for me.
His pace built as he drove into me relentlessly, and pleasure built like a storm. My body arched, my breath breaking. I begged without shame.
He reached between us and stroked me exactly where I needed. “Come for me, Galena .” The world finally shattered.
I screamed as I came, writhing under him, barely aware of his release moments later—groaning low, buried deep, his body shaking.
He collapsed onto his side, pulling me close, his lips against my shoulder.
“You’re mine,” he whispered again.
And I believed it.