23. Sian
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SIAN
I sit at the window and read my book in silence. I'm so drawn into the fictional world that when my door slams open, I scream, regardless of how safe I'm supposed to be.
"Fucking hell," I say, holding a hand to my chest as I look at an irate Tate standing in the doorway. This is the first time I’ve felt a tension as strong as this since the party, and it’s not in a good way. He’s furious. "What the hell is your problem?"
"I don't know, Sian. Why don't you tell me?" he asks, crossing his arms. There's no trace of a smirk on his face. He's dead serious.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I look at him, genuinely confused. "You're the one who burst in here."
Tate crosses the room and stands in front of me. "My father just had an interesting conversation with me. He said he spoke to you today."
I knew there was tension. I wonder what I said that set him off. "Yes. We spoke about books and my ex."
"Your ex." He draws the word out. "Daniel."
"Yes, Daniel. Why? Do you know him?” I ask, suddenly worried.
Tate laughs. "You're funny. As if I’d ever associate myself with someone like that.”
“Tate, I don’t know why you’re getting angry with me, but you need to calm down.” I’ve never seen him outraged before.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Sian. You don’t know what I’m dealing with.” He paces the room. “Are you helping him, in any way? If so, I need you to tell me right now and tell me the truth.”
"I don't know what you're talking about, but you're being a fucking jerk," I say as tears spring to my eyes. "I would never do anything for that vile asshole. Ever."
“Is that your honest answer?” He turns sharply and steps towards me. He stares, and it’s like he’s looking into my soul, begging me to help him, but I’m not sure how. His eyes are telling me one thing, but his words and presence are telling me something entirely different. He’s struggling to keep his emotions in check, like he’s at war with himself.
I need to calm him down. “Tate, listen to me. I told you you can trust me. I haven’t lied once in the whole time I’ve known you. I have no reason to. I’d never lie to you." I watch as his breathing slows down. I take a step towards him. “How do you know Daniel?" I don’t know if he’ll answer me, or if I even want to know. It could change everything.
"He’s an enemy. One I never thought I’d find. That’s all you need to know. He got the better of me once, but I don't make the same mistake twice." His eyes bore down into mine, debating if I’m telling the truth.
"He's my enemy as well. He fucking raped me, Tate! If you don't trust me, and if you don't want me here, then let me go. I'll find my own way to protect myself from Daniel."
He looks like he's swallowed something sour, and then he touches his chest, almost absentmindedly.
I frown. "What's wrong?"
Tate sighs and looks out the window, swallowing hard. He looks down at me. "I don't know who I can trust just lately."
"You asked me to trust you, and I did," I say quietly. "I think it's only fair you extend the same courtesy."
He drops his head. “You’re right, but I know Daniel. The real Daniel.”
"I figured," I say quietly. "How do you know him?"
Tate looks at me for what feels like the longest moment before he starts to unbutton his shirt. He shrugs it off and drops it to the floor.
I catch my breath; he is incredibly sexy. He has tattoos, many of them, but where there are no tattoos, I see scars. They look ugly on his perfect skin. Some are long and thin, and a few are chunky and angry red. They must have been deep cuts. How did I not see or feel these the night in his office? It was dark; I could hardly see anything. Maybe I was so wrapped up in Tate and basking in the ecstasy to notice.
"I was taken when I was twenty-two. Lured into atrap."
"By Daniel?" I ask, looking up at him.
He shakes his head. "A woman. She claimed to have been raped. I had been seeing her, and I was angry, so I went after the person. I didn't know then who my captor was, but he did this." He traces the scars. "The thin ones were just cuts from a knife, but the big, ugly ones... he stabbed me with a short, heated blade."
I reach out, and he grabs my hand mid-air.
"I won't hurt you," I say quietly. "I'm not Daniel and I’m not that woman. I hate them both more than words can say."
Tate stares into my eyes before he finally lets go of my hand. I trace the scars softly. "It was him?"
"It fell into place today. A part of me thought history was repeating itself. That you… were working for him. I thought maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that you were at my club that night. The same time shit was happening behind the scenes. That you were snooping around for him. Perhaps he punished you because you didn’t get the information he wanted. I know that’s stupid and a horrible thing to say after what he did to you. I saw the bruises, the injuries he causes you the night I found you at home. You couldn’t have faked that."
I can see why that would have been the first conclusion he’d jump to, but after everything we’ve been through since, it leaves a sting. "You thought he sent me here to trick you?" I ask quietly, stepping closer.
"As a distraction, perhaps," he whispers.
I lean forward and press my lips against one of the scars. It's smooth. I look up at him. "I would never do that. I'd never help him, no matter how much pain he’d cause me." I don't know what's gotten into me, but knowing Daniel hurt Tate makes this connection I feel to Tate so much stronger.
I kiss another scar, and he sighs. "Sian..."
"I want to forget about him," I say shakily.
Tate reaches up and strokes my face. "I want you to forget."
"I would never betray you," I whisper, tilting my head and kissing another scar.
Tate breathes deep. He reaches underneath my chin and tilts my head up. "I can make you forget." He presses his lips against mine and I sigh contentedly. It feels right, this kiss. It's perfection.
Tate slips his tongue into my mouth, and I roll my tongue over his. We stay like this for a moment before he breaks the kiss. He strokes my face.
"I want more," I murmur. "Make me forget."
Tate scoops me up and I hold on to him. He lays me down on the bed and slowly starts to peel my clothes off. He is so gentle. So unlike Daniel. I push the thought of Daniel out of my mind, not wanting to ruin this moment. Tate pulls my shirt off and tosses it aside. He kisses me deeply, and I sigh into his mouth.
He kisses my face, covering every inch in kisses. "Everywhere I kiss, you're mine," he murmurs against my skin.
"I'm yours," I groan as he starts kissing my neck.
He reaches behind me and swiftly unclips my bra. He takes it off and settles between my legs as he kisses my shoulders before he slowly peppers kisses down my chest. I raise my hands and gently run my fingers through his hair, mussing it up.
I swallow as he kisses the supple skin of my breast before he lowers his head and suckles on my right nipple. I gasp; he's so gentle, and it’s so erotic. His hands gently move up and down my body, massaging it. I grip his hair as he sucks harder on my nipple. He then switches to the other.
He kisses down my stomach and hooks his fingers into my pants and underwear, pulling them down gently. Tate tosses my clothes aside and spreads my legs. He kisses my thighs gently, and I close my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even.
He continues to kiss my thighs as two fingers slip between my folds and circle my entrance.
I moan softly, and Tate murmurs. "From this point on, I’m the only one who gets to pleasure you." He slides his fingers up and circles my clit. I gasp and shiver slightly. His fingers go back down and he slowly pushes those two fingers inside me as his lips and tongue tease my clit. He sucks and licks as he moves his fingers in and out of me, angling them until I squirm beneath his touch. He's found the spot. I've never felt like this. I feel so seen, so important. It’s even better than the first time we had sex, and I thought nothing could ever top that.
Tate groans softly, and the vibrations make me clench the bed sheets in my fists. He continues to move his fingers. Continues to tease my clit with his tongue and mouth. I can feel pressure building inside me. Then he stops, and I look down at him, panting slightly. He's undoing his pants, and I lick my lips.
Tate kisses up my body once he removes his pants, and he kisses me gently. I can taste myself on him, and I've never been more aroused. Everything about Tate is intense; not like Daniel, who just took.
I push the thought of Daniel out of my mind; he doesn’t belong there. Instead, I focus on Tate, who has paused and is looking down at me. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly.
"More than okay," I whisper, leaning up to kiss him again.
He nods, and I can feel his cock ready to push into me. I put my hands on his shoulders as he slowly eases in. His girth spreads me in a way I've never felt before. I pant slightly as he bottoms out inside me before I kiss him hungrily. He breaks the kiss.
"You’re mine now, Sian," he murmurs. "Do you understand? I need you to say yes."
I nod. "Yes. I’m yours, Tate."
He starts to move his hips slowly at first, and I lie still. He kisses my lips, then my cheek, then my neck. He buries his face in my neck as he moves a little faster, and finally, I feel like I can move with him. Our hips move in rhythm, and I groan out softly, my breathing heavy. Tate nips and sucks at the skin on my neck, and I whimper softly. He lifts his head to look at me, and once he's sure I'm enjoying myself, he buries his head in my neck again. I can feel he's holding back, and I know it's because of me.
"Ha... harder," I say softly.
Tate looks into my eyes and nods. We lock eyes as he moves harder and faster, and I can feel the pressure building up inside me again. I groan, and he reaches between us to touch me. As his fingers find my clit, I arch my back slightly. "Oh, God, Tate."
Tate smirks. "That's right."
I punch his arm but start to squirm under him. "I'm so close."
"Come for me," he murmurs, kissing along my chin.
I cry out, my hips bucking slightly as I chase my orgasm. Tate groans as I clench around his cock, and he speeds up. He continues to move while I orgasm, and soon, he buries himself deep inside me. He groans as warmth spreads inside me. I fall back onto the bed, thoroughly spent.