Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ADAM
The pounding on the door outside my room was persistent as fuck, making it impossible to concentrate. I had come to my room to search for my pen that I misplaced. It was dumb, really. A stupid pen that I insisted on using every day because my dead wife had gifted it to me. But this had been the first time in the five years since her passing that I carelessly misplaced it. I’d tear apart this whole house to find it. And I was. At least until the knocking disturbed me.
I pulled open the door that I had left ajar, seeing Mercer knocking on Bellamy’s door. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He turned toward me, his eyes looking panicked. “She’s not opening the door.”
“How long have you been knocking?” I didn’t bother asking if he knocked loud enough. The whole fucking house had to have heard him. Hell, even Ace had wandered down the hall to stand next to us, his hands on his hips as he looked between us.
“Long enough. Ace asked me to get her for lunch.”
Ace nodded. “It’s been a few minutes for sure.”
Mercer swallowed. I knew what he was feeling, knew the trauma from his childhood was surfacing, the ghosts chasing him from the time he was a defenseless child, unable to help the only person he depended on. But Belle wasn’t his mother. She didn’t do drugs; she didn’t partake in intentional overdoses. And she’d surely not be selfish enough to leave us with the aftermath of such things. She was ours and we’d never let her get pulled that far under with her thoughts. We’d vowed to protect her, after all.
“She’s fine,” I reassured him.
“Should we go in? Check on her?” Mercer asked, and I knew that was the first and last thing he wanted to do. He was committed to our Belle, and he’d not hesitate to rush in and protect her. But he never wanted to walk into a room feeling as he had in the past, where someone he’d cared for lying dead.
“She had a lot of sun today.” Ace’s voice was slightly nervous. “Maybe it’s best if we went in. Just to make sure she doesn’t have heat stroke or anything. She’s pregnant, after all. Can’t that make your body extra sensitive?”
I knocked on the door; it shook on the hinges as I called her name. When no one answered, I put my ear to the frame, hating myself for opting for the expensive build and not cheap cardboard walls. “I think I hear music. I doubt she hears us.”
Though I wasn’t sure how she couldn’t. Even asleep, I would have woken at the sound of Mercer banging on her door. Beside me, Mercer put his ear to the door too. “I think I hear it too.”
I shook the knob, thankful that she had left it unlocked. I met their gazes. “I’ll go in and check on her.”
I didn’t wait for their responses, instead pushing the door open, instantly being met with music. I searched around the room with my eyes before I dared step inside. I didn’t see her. With my best friends on my heels, I turned the corner to her bathroom and froze. She left the door open, a practical invite for a view of her naked body, fully displayed with her head tilted back and…
“Fuck.” Mercer’s words were strained, and I understood. I understood completely because I couldn’t get a single word out of my closing throat.
“I wish I was the showerhead.”
I didn’t bother to glare at Ace. We all say stupid shit under duress, and didn’t the sight of Belle getting herself off with a showerhead constitute as duress?
Stalking forward, I picked up her phone off the counter and turned off the music. It took her a moment to realize the music was off. When the silence registered, her eyes shot open, meeting mine as the horror washed over her face. Her skin instantly reddened, embarrassment flooding her, and I don’t know why she’d be embarrassed. This was her space. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
My breathing came quick as I stepped toward her, her eyes wide. When I got close enough that the mist of the shower surrounded me, I stopped. I tried not to let my eyes roam over her breasts, tried not to find the slight curve of her stomach attractive. I tried, and I fucking failed. My eyes took her in greedily, devouring her without a single touch. Looking at a naked woman, feeling things I’d not let myself feel in five fucking years, and I knew it should feel wrong. But damn if it didn’t feel so fucking right in this moment.
My hand reached, practically prying the showerhead from her iron grip before placing it above her head, where it belongs. Her teeth pulled at her lip, victim of her anxious ways, making her bite down as her body shook in front of me. All I could think about was the look of bliss when her head was tilted back, when she sought her own pleasure, unknowing that we watched from feet away.
I stood, my height looming over her. How had I not noticed how small she was until now? Then again, I didn’t let myself notice much, had I? I hadn’t let myself notice the forest of greens in her eyes, or the divine smell of her skin and the musk of her need. I was barely coming to terms with the fact that she was mine, that I’d ignored all her needs completely.
This shouldn’t have happened.
She shouldn’t have been in here, taking her own pleasure when she had three men in this house who would give her anything she asked for.
“I—“
I cut her off before she could apologize for what we saw. Before she could act like it would not fuel all my dreams for months to come. “You drive me fucking mad, do you know that? Wanting you with my whole body while my mind tells me I shouldn’t.”
Her eyelashes batted heavy against her cheeks as she looked down, not wanting to meet my eyes. I used a finger, tilting her chin up, whispering an inch from her lips, “Do I make you nervous, little Belle?”
She didn’t answer, and that was enough of an answer for me. “Don’t you see you hold all the power here? All you have to do is ask us, and we’d drop to our knees and give you any fucking thing. You’ve got us in hold. How did you do it?”
The water pounded down, soaking my suit, and I didn’t care. Not when she was naked in front of me, her body needing. With her silence, I gave into temptation. Just this once and maybe later when I was alone, I’d punish myself with torturous thoughts of the betrayal I committed, but for now, the only thing I could think of was right in front of me, trembling under my touch.
“Ask for it,” I demanded.
She shook her head, denying my request.
I persisted. “Ask for what you want, Belle, and I swear I’ll give it to you.”
Her chest rose and fell, and my eyes drew to her breasts for a moment, not able to stop myself from raising my hand up and rubbing my thumb over her nipple. She hissed under the touch, her body tense as she pushed her breasts out, silently begging for more. I leaned one hand on the tile wall behind her and used the other to cup her breast in my palm.
“It’s sensitive, isn’t it? Ask me Belle, I’m begging you.” When her eyes fell behind me, watching Mercer and Ace, I demanded, “Look at me. What you want at this moment doesn’t concern them. What do you want? Do you want me to suck on this gorgeous tit? Run my fingers over your body? Make you scream? Do you want my mouth on your cunt?”
The dirty words fell from my lips effortlessly, and I should have been ashamed. She was my wife, yes. But I’d never treated her this way, spoken words fueled by lust and want. I’d never allowed myself to. I’d never even touched my lips to her after that day at the church. I didn’t want to, didn’t want to betray my dead wife.
But now all I could think about is how good the sin of betrayal could be when it was her warm skin and sultry moans. Without thinking further, I crashed my lips to hers, begging her silently to open up and let me in, let me feel the warmth of her mouth and taste her. I almost pulled away, and that would have been a fucking shame because the moment I pulled back, she leaned forward, chasing my lips with her own, taunting me with her unskilled mouth, and I was gone, lost to my need for this girl.
Had she kissed before me? Was I the first?
My cock throbbed at the thought of being so many of her firsts. I had to will myself to calm down because I was seconds away from exploding, and I’d not even touched her.
I could blame it on the time. Blame the fact that I hadn’t had sex in five fucking years for the reason I was so excited, but deep down, I knew that would be a lie. My desire didn’t stem from abstinence; it was rooted in the fact that I wanted Belle, maybe from the second I laid eyes on her, and all I’d let myself do was deny it.
I might regret this later, but when her wet skin was plastered to the soaked material of my suit and her body vibrated with whimpers, all I could think about was the now. Her hand came up, her tiny fingers gripping the wet shirt right above my heart. The place that should be dead. Except at this moment, it was beating so loudly, I couldn’t deny its life. My hand engulfed hers, making her fingers disappear under my palm as they rested against my heart. The steady thrum of our own soothing lullaby.
“Ask for it, little Belle,” I whispered against her lips, feeling the sting from when her lips were meshed with mine. How could I be such a powerful man when this woman had reduced me to begging, pleading for her to ask us so we could give anything she wanted? “Please.”
I thought she would deny us, deny me, as she’d done the other times I practically begged her. Instead, her eyes held mine. Her palm came up, stroking my cheek gently with her thumb, and I fought everything, used every ounce of strength to not pull away from her touch. To not let her look at me with pity or disgust at the part of me I can never heal from. The reminder I wore against my skin would always be there. I couldn’t change that. But deep down, I craved her acceptance, wanted it more than anything I’d wanted in years.
Her eyes deepened, her lips trembled, and yet she didn’t look away from me when she whispered. “Please, touch me.”
I closed my eyes against the touch, inhaling deep. “Tell me how.”
“Please Adam, just touch me.” She stood on toes, her lips finding mine for a quick peck before she whispered against them. “Make me feel good.”
That was the only invitation I needed to drop to my knees in the shower, with the water pouring over us. I wrapped my fingers around her thigh, nudging her to lean against the wall before I spread her, placing a leg over my shoulders, and let myself find heaven. I feasted against her skin, starved for a meal I hadn’t realized I’d been craving until the first taste touched my tongue and I became obsessed, or maybe possessed, for my wife.
She was so fucking wet, weeping and begging for me, and I may not be the most honorable man, but I knew, at least for the moment, this was as far as I’d allow myself to go. She was pregnant with my child, and I’d respect and worship her as my altar. My goddess, my divine. My palm released one of her thighs, traveling up to rest against her stomach, gently palming the soft roundness of her abdomen.
I licked and sucked, drove her mad with my tongue, teased her into an oblivion with my fingers, until her fingers were tugging my hair, the pain ecstasy against all my sensitive nerves. She cursed, she cried, said words I’d never imagine coming from her lips, and I wanted more. I couldn’t get enough. Her words became my prayer, the only thing I ever wanted chanted in my head when my thoughts go silent.
With a last gasp, her thighs clamped together, tightening around my head as she moaned her release. I licked her clean, devouring everything that poured from her body, memorizing every sound, until her legs were too shaky to hold her up and her grip on my hair loosened. I dragged my way up her body, laying kisses against her flush skin before I reached over and turned off the water.
My fingers smoothed away that hair that was plastered to her cheek. “You came so well for your husband.”
At my praise, a blush consumed her. Fuck, how had I not noticed how fucking adorable it was when she was embarrassed? She couldn’t hide her embarrassment if she tried. It touched every part of her, all the way to the tips of her perfectly rounded ears. She shivered, and a towel appeared, wrapping around her shoulders before she even realized it was Mercer handing it to her.
When I had the towel pulled tight, he gripped her jaw, turning her head so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “That was so fucking hot.”
Then, before she could react to his words, his lips crushed against hers, offering her a bruising kiss. If this was anyone else touching her, I’d be jealous. But Mercer promised to protect her. And how could I be jealous of someone as committed to her as that? When he pulled away, his eyes found mine. “I’m in.”
He turned his back, stalking away, and I knew in my mind where he was going. Hell, I was depositing her into my bed and going straight to the shower myself. I bent at my knees and took hold of her thigh. Throwing her over my shoulder before I turned and exited her bathroom. Ace still stood in her room, his eyes blazing as he watched us, and I wasn’t sure if it was anger I saw or approval. Disgust or lust. Unnamed emotions swirled around us, heavy in the air. But I didn’t care, at least not at this moment. Maybe tonight when she’s asleep and I’m at my desk, avoiding her. That’s when the regret usually seeps in.
But did I have regret?
Did I seek avoidance?
Would I forgive myself for the things I’d done in the past and let the future be my focus?
I gripped her tighter as I passed Ace, unwilling to meet his eyes and face the judgment I thought I’d see. “We’ll get dressed in our room. Then I’ll feed you. Is that okay, little Belle?”
“You can put me down.” Her voice was weak.
I grabbed her a pair of underwear before exiting her room. Using my foot to nudge open my bedroom door, I walked to the center of the room and placed her on my, our , bed. I leaned over, caging her in. “I’m going to shower. You’re going to find one of my shirts and put it on, then we’ll eat.”
Her skin instantly burned with the mention of eating, and I smirked, letting her know I knew exactly what she was thinking. She wouldn’t meet my eyes when she argued, “I can get clothes from my room.”
“Belle.” I leaned forward and nuzzled my nose into her neck. God how I missed this closeness. Why had I denied myself so damn long? “You could wear your clothes, but right now, I need you to wear mine. I need to see you in them. I need to know this is real. Do you understand that?” I needed to grasp this moment for just a little longer. “I won’t touch you unless you ask, but I want you here. In bed. Okay?”
What I didn’t say is how much I needed that too.
She was silent longer than I was comfortable with. So long that I started questioning if maybe I’d gone too far. If maybe I read a situation wrong and I took from her what I wanted and not what she wanted to give. But when I opened my mouth to apologize, no words came out. No words came out because I wasn’t sure if I was fucking sorry. I didn’t know if I could take it back.
And just when I was about to tell her just that, tell her I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done, the softest “Okay,” left her lips, and I closed my eyes, relieved. My voice matched hers, when I whispered back, “Okay.” Then kissed her forehead and dragged myself away, giving her a moment alone.