Chapter 13 – Wren
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling with arms clutching a pillow to my chest. It was midnight, and my eyes were still wide open. I’d been tossing and turning, rolling from one end of the bed to the other. My mind was restless, tugged at by a million different thoughts that wouldn’t let me sleep.
Val had occupied my thoughts, and as much as I hated the fact that he was living rent-free in my head, there was nothing that I could do to get him out. This unnecessary distraction began the very first day I stumbled upon him working out in the estate’s private gym.
That morning, I was wandering the mansion as usual when I heard the faint clanking of metal accompanied by a series of rhythmic grunts. I saw the “gym” sign above the open door across the hallway. At first, I thought it was just the guards working out and decided to walk past.
However, when I glanced at the inside, I stopped in my tracks. It wasn’t the guards as I’d thought. It was him. Val. He was alone in the gym, shirtless with only a pair of jogger shorts and sneakers. His back was toward the door, so he had no idea that I was standing there, watching.
My heart skipped a beat, eyes fixed on his back with raised brows. He was focused on the weight in his hands, his muscles flexing with each lift, his biceps tightening. The light caught on the sheen covering him, his shoulder blades shifting beneath the sweat-slicked skin.
It was so much fun to watch that I got carried away, and I didn’t realize I was already leaning against the door frame. I tried to fight the illicit thoughts that flooded my mind in that instant, but the raw sight of him in his element wasn’t helping matters at all.
I lingered at the doorway that morning, a lot longer than I’d intended to. It took the sound of approaching footsteps to snap me back to reality. I got a grip of myself, took one last look at his body, and then hurried away before someone caught me snooping around.
Ever since that day, I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head. I thought of him day and night, imagining all the crazy things he could do to me in bed. I wasn’t proud of those thoughts, especially because they were distracting me from the fact that he was a monster. But I couldn’t help myself.
Maybe I never should have peeped at him that morning. I should have just walked away the moment I spotted him in the gym. Instead, I stood there and let my imagination run wild while drinking in the sight of him.
I put myself in this situation, and now I was stuck, unable to get the images of his sweaty, masculine body out of my mind. The more I tried, the more difficult it became. And this was because that morning wasn’t the only time I watched him work out.
No.
It was just the first time.
I deluded myself into thinking and believing that I was only watching him so I’d better understand his personality. But the reality was, I was watching him because I loved the sight of his body and the feeling it stirred within me.
Morning after morning, I would sneak to the gym and hide behind the door, feeding my eyes with the incredible sight of him. I hated myself for doing so, and although I’d promised to put an end to it, I simply couldn’t.
He was my husband anyway, and so I shouldn’t feel guilty. Right? But this wasn’t just about guilt; it was also about my pride as a woman.
I should hate Val for all the bad things that had happened to me ever since he kidnapped me.
He ruined my life and stole my happiness—I shouldn’t be drawn to him the way that I was.
No. He was a monster, and I was supposed to see him as nothing but that.
Yet, this monster was slowly creeping into my mind with each passing day.
Maybe this was nothing but just lust. Maybe if, for some reason, he scratched my itch, whatever feeling was growing inside me would die instantly. Maybe giving in to this lust would fizzle out this flame that wouldn’t stop burning.
The mere thought of him inside me was both satisfying and frustrating at the same time. I loved how those illicit thoughts made me feel, but I despised myself for even enjoying it in the first place. Hence the frustration.
On several occasions, I’d come so close to touching myself—like right now.
I bit my lower lip, my legs slightly spreading apart as my heart raced in my chest.
Don’t do it, a voice warned me.
It’s no big deal, said another. No one has to know.
An argument sprang up in my head, one voice warning me against the idea of touching myself, and another feeding my lust.
I slid one hand down, my palm slipping underneath my panties. I closed my eyes, my chest rising and falling with slow breaths as a heatwave spread across my body. A moan fell off my lips the second my finger slid up my slippery entrance.
Fuck. I was wet already.
My free hand flew into my hair, my thighs closing in on each other as if to douse the sensation coursing through my blood. My body was trembling, my heart swelling with ecstasy. By now, I’d already silenced the voices in my head, and all I could think about was how to satisfy my desire.
My back arched in response to my fingers parting my folds. And just when I was about giving in fully, that voice returned louder than ever.
Stop!
I froze instantly, struggling to catch my breath. I rubbed my eyes and withdrew my hand from my tunnel. In my heaving chest, my heart was pounding like a drum, my body shaking—not from satisfaction but from this insatiable hunger threatening to drive me crazy.
Deep breaths, I thought to myself.
In through my nose. Out through my mouth.
“50…49…48…47…” I murmured to myself, in and exhaling on each pause.
This technique always worked for me whenever I felt overwhelmed. It didn’t quench the sexual hunger, but it helped me regain control of my thoughts and imagination. I massaged my temples, rose from the bed, and sat on the edge with my head bowed.
“...36…35…34…” I continued counting down.
The closer I drew to finishing, the more relaxed I became, the tension oozed out of me. By the time I was done counting down to zero, I was already feeling much better. I drew a deep breath, raised my head, and caught a reflection of myself in the full-length mirror across from me.
The left strap of my nightgown slipped off my shoulder, exposing the skin above my breast. The gown’s hem barely grazed my mid-thigh, revealing more skin than it should. I stood up, adjusted the fallen strap, and let out a sigh as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
“I need a drink,” I murmured to myself, combing my fingers through my hair.
Without wasting time, I headed out of my room with the intention of fixing myself a cup of coffee.
The marble floor was cool beneath my bare feet as I strolled through the hallway in the dead of night.
The mansion was quiet, and although I didn’t run into any of the guards, I knew those ninjas were lurking somewhere in the dark.
I was starting to feel comfortable behind these walls, safe even—and I hated it.
I hated how, without realizing it, I was beginning to accept my fate.
My plans to escape this place would have to wait for now.
All of my attempts to track the security patterns of the mansion had failed.
And even the blueprint I dug up in the library didn’t seem to match the structure in real life.
So, it looks like I might be stuck here for a while—probably even longer than I expected.
I headed down the steps like I owned the place—confident and unafraid. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted into my nostrils as I approached the kitchen.
Weird. Someone had already beaten me there at this time of night? Who? Maybe one of the guards or a maid, who just like me, couldn’t get some sleep. Regardless, I wasn’t turning back now; I came down to get a cup of coffee, and I was leaving without it.
Wait a minute. I paused at the doorway, suddenly catching a familiar scent beneath coffee’s aroma. The second I raised my head, my gaze fell on the one person I least expected to find here tonight.
Valerian.
Fuck.
My breath hitched, my heart sinking into my stomach as I stood there frozen in place. I’d just finished fighting to dispel the thoughts of him from my head, only for me to run into him barely five minutes later. How the hell was that fair?
And to make matters even worse, the man was fuckin’ shirtless. He wore a pair of jet-black baggy joggers that complemented his slightly tousled hair. He was busy fixing himself a cup of coffee with his back to the door when a flash of lightning outside the window caught my eye.
I should’ve been prepared for the thunder, considering the fact that light traveled faster than sound. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the loudness of that thunder clap. The clash was so deafening that it forced an abrupt yelp out of me.
My body jerked in shock, my left leg reflexively rising off the cool marble floor.
Undisturbed, he turned around to face me, stirring his coffee with a teaspoon. “You should’ve seen the look on your face,” he teased, lifting the cup to his lips. “Priceless.” He slurped his coffee.
My brows drew together, a faint scowl flashing across my features. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, changing the subject as I walked inside, my footsteps slow and measured.
“Neither should you,” he answered and set his cup on the countertop.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I replied, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
Outside, the rain began to pour, lashing against the closed windows as though nature was attempting an invasion. Lightning streaked the dark clouds, accompanied by rolls of thunder.
“Why? What were you thinking about?” He reached for the pot on the countertop, tilting it with steady hands.
“Nothing.” The word fell off defensively, and my breath caught in my throat, eyes widening by a whisper.
He glanced at me, and I avoided his gaze, fingers toiling with the golden lock that swept down my left shoulder.