17. Seventeen
SEVENTEEN
WRENLY
M y entire body ached, bearing bruises from my lover on my arms, legs, and hips. In the forest, Theo had punished me, but when we returned to my house, he gently worshipped me, drew me a bath, and cleansed my skin of any traces of dirt and sin from our wild romp in nature. As I soaked in the warm, soothing water, he knelt beside the tub, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along my collarbone. His touch was featherlight, starkly contrasting the passionate, brutal way he had gripped me earlier. He washed my hair, his fingers working the shampoo into a rich foam. I closed my eyes, savoring his gentle touch. He then lathered a washcloth with lavender and eucalyptus body wash and washed my back in slow, circular motions. The warm water cascaded over my shoulders as he worked his way down, the subtle scent relaxing us both.
“Tilt your head back,” he murmured, guiding me gently back as he poured water over my hair, gently washing the suds from my hair and skin. His fingers combed through my wet tresses, making sure every last bubble was washed away. The sensation of his fingers threading through my hair as he lathered conditioner on my scalp was both intimate and soothing.
He turned the water off, helped me out of the bath, and wrapped me in a soft, fluffy towel. With utmost care, he patted my skin dry, his hands skimming reverently over my curves. I leaned into him, relishing the solid warmth of his body. “Let me take care of you,” he begged, letting his breath tickle my ear.
The experience in the woods had been sensual and intimate. It had been a push-and-pull of control and submission, hidden truths and unspoken promises. Something had changed between us. The veil had been lifted, and I saw him in a different light. When I was with him, it felt like coming home.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”
I shook my head, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I wanted it . . . needed it. I need more.”
His eyes darkened with desire at my words. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
I held his gaze, my fingertips resting softly against the stubble on his cheek. “I mean every word,” I breathed. “I need to be consumed by you.”
His breath hitched at my confession. He closed his hand around my wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he drew my hand away from his face. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” His voice was husky. “If I let myself go, I might not be able to stop.”
I stepped closer, the damp towel the only barrier between my naked body and his fully clothed one. “I don’t want you to stop,” I whispered, my lips a hairsbreadth from his. “Show me what it means to be with you, Devil. All of you.”
He took the towel from my body and let it drop to the floor. I stood bare before him, glistening with moisture from the bath. His gaze raked over me hungrily, appreciatively, as if he were seeing me for the first time all over again.
“Then I will consume you,” he promised in a low growl, “until there is nothing left but ashes.”
In one swift motion, he scooped me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me down on the bed and crawled over me, his body hovering inches above mine. I reached for him, aching to feel his skin against me, but he caught my wrists and pinned them above my head .
“Not yet,” he admonished softly. “Let me worship you properly first.”
His head dipped, and he trailed fleeting kisses along the column of my throat, my chest, and the swell of my breasts. Each brush of his lips left tingles in its wake, igniting a slow burn deep within my core. His tongue flicked out to taste my skin, and I arched my back, silently begging for more. He lavished attention on my breasts, ribcage, and stomach, suckling and nipping, leaving red marks across my pale skin until I writhed beneath him, desperate for friction.
He settled between my legs, hooking my thighs over his shoulders. I felt his warm breath against my core and shivered with anticipation. But instead of giving me what I desperately wanted, he placed soft, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs, deliberately avoiding the place where I needed him most. I whimpered, trying to cant my hips toward his face, seeking relief, but his grip on my thighs tightened, holding me in place.
“Patience, my love,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ll give you what you need. Trust me.”
And I did trust him, wholly and completely. I surrendered myself to his touch, to the exquisite torture of his teasing caresses. He took his time, worshipping every inch of my body with his lips and tongue until I was trembling and breathless beneath him, my skin flushed and slick with sweat.
Only when I was thoroughly wound up and desperate did he suddenly flip me over onto my stomach, one hand pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me down against the mattress. His other hand gripped my hip, lifting me until I was on my knees, my backside raised vulnerably to him. I felt exposed, displayed for his viewing pleasure, and self-conscious about the burn scar on my back.
But any shred of self-consciousness evaporated as I felt his fingers glide reverently over the raised, reddened skin of my scar.
“Every part of you is beautiful,” he breathed. “Even this.” His lips replaced his fingers, pressing a trail of featherlight kisses along the marred flesh. Each brush of his mouth burned hotter than the flames that had ravaged my skin. He didn’t ask what had happened—I knew the questions would come, but right now, he was going to make me forget everything except the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips worshipping my skin.
“You’re dripping for me,” he observed, his fingers skating teasingly along my slit. I whimpered and tried to push back against his hand, seeking more pressure, but he tsked and delivered a sharp slap to my rear. “Greedy girl. I’ll give you what you need, but we’re doing this my way.”
I cried out, more from surprise than pain, as a warm sting radiated across my skin.
“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, soothing the smarting flesh with his palm. “You like when I mark this pretty skin as mine.”
His hand came down again, harder this time, and I gasped out a strangled, “Yes!” as the sting blossomed into a throbbing heat. He rained a series of sharp smacks across my backside until the skin burned and tingled deliciously. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes from the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.
“That’s it. Let go for me,” Theo urged. “Take what I give you.” His palm soothed over the hot, sensitized flesh before he gripped my hips and pulled me back firmly against his clothed erection. I could feel how hard he was through the fabric of his pants, and I ground back against him wantonly, desperate for more contact.
“Please, Theo,” I begged shamelessly, too far gone to care how needy I sounded. “I need you inside me.”
“Since you asked so nicely . . .” In one swift motion, he unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down just enough to free his straining cock. The blunt head probed at my entrance, slick with my arousal, before he thrust forward and hilted himself inside me with one powerful stroke.
A guttural cry tore from my throat at the sudden fullness, my sore, swollen inner walls stretching to accommodate him. His thrusts were deep and hard, each one hitting that sensitive spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyelids. I fisted the sheets, trying to anchor myself against the overwhelming sensations bombarding me from all sides. One hand gripped my hip hard, leaving bruises on top of the bruises I already had, while the other fisted my damp hair, pulling my head back and arching my spine. The change in angle allowed him to plunge even deeper, hitting a spot that no man ever had before.
“Is this what you wanted?” he growled, punctuating each word with a hard, deep thrust. “To be split open on my cock, used for my pleasure, and claimed so thoroughly that you’ll never forget who you belong to?”
“Yes!” I cried, meeting his thrusts as best I could. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”
He pounded into me harder, pushing me face-first into the mattress as he leaned over me, his chest pressed against my back. His heart hammered against my scar, and his teeth grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke. “Come for me, baby,” he commanded. “Let me feel this greedy little cunt squeeze me dry.”
My core clenched around him almost painfully as I cried out his name like a prayer and shattered beneath him, my vision going white. He continued to pound into me, chasing his own release, prolonging my pleasure until it bordered on torment.
“Fuck, you feel like heaven, little bird,” he groaned, his rhythm growing erratic.
With a guttural shout, he buried himself to the hilt and spilled deep inside me, his cock jerking and pulsing as he filled me.
We collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty tangle of limbs, both of us panting for breath. Theo rolled off me and gathered me into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. I nuzzled into his chest, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against mine and the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my cheek.
His fingers traced idle patterns along my spine, occasionally dipping lower to skim over the curve of my rear. Each gentle touch sent little aftershocks of pleasure zinging through my nerve endings, keeping me floating in that hazy space between sated bliss and reignited desire. I traced the raised scars that adorned his body, hidden in the tattoos that covered his skin. He remained still under my touch, his breath steady and controlled. It was as if he had learned to compartmentalize the trauma, to tuck it away in the recesses of his mind. But I knew it was lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed .
“What happened here?” I whispered, my touch lingering on a particularly jagged mark slicing through his stomach.
He closed his eyes, jaw clenching. “A mistake. One I swore never to make again.”
I sensed the pain radiating off him. I could almost taste the bitterness and regret. Slowly, I leaned in and pressed my lips to the scar, to all the hurt it represented, and he shuddered.
“We all have our scars,” I breathed against his skin. “Seen and unseen. They make us who we are.”
His calloused hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. “And who are we?” The question rumbled through his chest, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I had.
I met his penetrating gaze, my heart a caged bird within my ribs. “Two lost souls, brought together . . . Survivors.”
Something flickered in the depths of his green eyes, there and gone again like a ripple across still water. He studied me for a long moment as if trying to unravel the mystery of my very existence.
“Survivors,” he repeated softly, testing the word as if tasting it on his tongue and determining its weight. His grip tightened as he drew my mouth to his, stealing the breath from my lungs.
When he pulled away, he looked at me before speaking. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
I tilted my head back to meet his gaze, my lips curving into a soft smile. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now. No take-backs.”
His chuckle faded into a contented sigh as he tightened his arms around me, holding me close. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re mine now in every way that matters.”
I hummed in agreement, my eyelids growing heavy as the day’s exertions caught up with me. He must have noticed because he shifted us until we lay on our sides, facing each other with my head pillowed on his bicep.
“Sleep, baby,” he uttered, brushing a lock of hair away from my face. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Comforted by his promise and the solid warmth of his body next to mine, I let my eyes drift shut, a small smile playing on my lips as I surrendered to the pull of slumber.
Sometime later, I stirred awake, momentarily disoriented. The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the moonlight filtering in through the gauzy curtains. Theo’s arm was a heavy weight across my waist, anchoring me to his side. I shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, but he jolted awake instantly, his grip on me tightening reflexively.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“Yeah, just thirsty,” I whispered, pressing a reassuring kiss to his chest. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”
He made a disgruntled noise but released his hold, allowing me to slip out of bed. I padded barefoot to the kitchen, the cool tile making me shiver. After retrieving a glass from the cupboard, I filled it with tap water and took a long, greedy drink, the liquid soothing my parched throat.
As I set the glass in the sink, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the dark window above it. My hair was mussed from sleep and sex, and even in the dim light, I could see the marks Theo had left on my skin—love bites scattered across my throat and collarbone, finger-shaped bruises on my hips. I looked thoroughly debauched, and a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Strong arms suddenly encircled my waist from behind, and I startled before relaxing back against Theo’s solid chest. “Admiring my handiwork?” he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
I hummed in affirmation, tilting my head to the side to give him better access. “Just thinking about how I’m going to have to wear turtlenecks for a week to hide all these hickeys.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Or you could just stay naked in bed. Problem solved.”
I turned in his arms, looping my own around his neck. “Mm, tempting. But some of us have jobs and responsibilities outside the bedroom,” I teased, walking my fingers up his chest .
“Overrated,” he scoffed, capturing my wandering hand and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to my palm. “I’d much rather keep you here, all to myself.”
“I’m sure you would.” I laughed softly. “But somehow, I don’t think my nurse manager would accept ‘too busy getting fucked six ways to Sunday by my insatiable lover’ as an excuse for missing work.”
He pouted playfully, his full bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated fashion. “Pity. But I suppose I’ll have to be more strategic about where I leave my marks next time.”
I rose up on my tiptoes and captured that pouty lip between my teeth, giving it a gentle tug before soothing the sting with my tongue. He groaned low in his throat, his hands flexing on my hips as he drew me closer, until every inch of my naked front was pressed against his.
His lips curved into a wicked smirk before he dipped his head to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind my ear. “I’ll just have to leave them in places only I get to see.”
I shivered, his words igniting the familiar heat low in my belly despite my body still being deliciously sore from our earlier activities. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I warned breathlessly.
“Oh, you should know by now that I always finish what I start.” He nipped at my earlobe, and his hands slid down to cup my rear, hoisting me up effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, a surprised gasp escaping me as my already sensitive center pressed against his naked, hard length. “Especially when what I’ve started involves pleasuring every inch of this delectable body,” he continued, carrying me to the island counter and laying me down on it.
The cool marble surface made me gasp as it pressed against my overheated skin. His eyes glittered with wicked intent in the moonlight streaming through the window as he loomed over me, his hands braced on either side of my head.
“I’ll never tire of laying you out like a feast and savoring every morsel.” His hand skated down my body, fingers dancing along my ribs, over the dip of my waist, across the flare of my hips. Goosebumps followed in their wake despite the heat building under my skin .
His fingers trailed lower, skimming over the apex of my thighs before delving into the slick heat between them. I gasped as he stroked me with teasing touches, my hips arching off the counter.
“Always so responsive,” he whispered approvingly. “So eager for my touch.”
Just when I thought I might combust from the exquisite torture, he withdrew his hand, chuckling at my whine of protest. But before I could voice any complaint, he gripped my thighs and yanked me to the edge of the counter. Hooking my knees over his elbows, he spread me wide and entered me in one powerful thrust.
I cried out, my back bowing off the unyielding marble as he filled me. He set a relentless pace, and the edge of the counter dug into my backside, but the slight discomfort only heightened the fire in my veins. I lifted my hands above my head, gripped the counter behind me, turned my head to the side, and looked toward the window.
What I saw had my scream catching in my throat as terror shot through me like ice—a man in a ski mask staring right at us.
I locked eyes with the masked man peering through the window, his face illuminated by the moonlight. Theo must have felt me stiffen beneath him because he stilled, his concerned gaze searching my face.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
I couldn’t find my voice, terror seizing my vocal cords in a vice grip. With a trembling hand, I pointed toward the window. Theo’s head whipped to the side, and he cursed under his breath when he saw what had me frozen in fear.
In a flash, he pulled out of me, positioning himself protectively in front of my naked body.
“Stay here,” Theo ordered. He grabbed a kitchen knife from the block on the counter before moving swiftly and silently to the back door. “Lock the door behind me, and don’t open it for anyone but me, understand?”
I nodded mutely, my heart hammering against my ribcage as he strode out the door, butt-naked, pausing only to make sure I locked it securely behind him.
With shaking hands, I retrieved a blanket from the couch and wrapped it tightly around myself. Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. I paced the length of the kitchen, my bare feet slapping against the cold wood, straining for any sound from outside. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the ragged cadence of my breath and the blood rushing in my ears.
After what felt like an eternity but was likely only minutes, a sharp knock sounded at the door, making me jump.
“It’s me, baby.” Theo’s muffled voice came through the wood. “Open up.”
On unsteady legs, I hurried to the door and fumbled with the lock, my hands shaking so badly that it took me a couple of tries to turn it. I launched myself into his arms as soon as the door swung open. He gathered me close, the knife clattering to the ground as he wrapped me tightly in his embrace.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe,” he soothed, stroking my hair as I trembled against him. “He’s gone. Ran off into the woods as soon as I came out.”
I pulled back just enough to search his face for any signs of injury. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
He shook his head, cupping my face in his large hands. “I’m fine. Not a scratch on me. Fucker was too much of a coward to face me.”
“Who was that? Why was he watching us?”
Theo’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” He ushered me back inside, locking the door securely behind us. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to my place tonight. I don’t want you staying here alone.”
I didn’t argue, hurrying to the bedroom to throw on some clothes with shaking hands, my mind reeling. Who would have been bold enough to come right up to the window like that? And why target me? A sickening thought occurred to me—could it have been Connor? Had my refusal to engage with him angered him to the point that he’d show up in a ski mask with god knows what intentions?
Theo appeared in the doorway, now dressed as well, his expression grim. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, grabbing my purse and a few essentials. He kept me tucked close to his side as we made our way out to my car, his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. The short drive to his place was tense and silent. My fingers clasped tightly with his over the center console.
It wasn’t until we were safely ensconced in Theo’s bedroom that some of the tension drained from my body.
He led me over to the plush leather couch and gently pushed me down onto the cushions, draping a soft throw blanket over my shoulders.
“Stay here,” he instructed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to make you some tea to calm your nerves.”
I nodded mutely, pulling the blanket tighter around myself as I waited for him to return.
Ten minutes later, he did, carrying a steaming mug. He gently pressed it into my hands, and the scent of chamomile wafted up. I took a careful sip, the hot liquid soothing my raw throat. He settled beside me, his arm draped across my shoulders, tugging me into his side.
“Talk to me, baby,” he urged softly. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
I took a shuddering breath, staring down into the depths of my mug. “I was just thinking . . . what if it’s one of my patients from the hospital? The ER is a beacon for patients high on drugs, mental illness, and worse. Maybe I said or did something to set one of them off . . . maybe they followed me home?”
Theo’s arm tightened around me protectively. “That’s a possibility we can’t rule out,” he said grimly. “But I’m not ruling out your piece of shit ex-boyfriend either.”
I stiffened at his words that reflected my earlier suspicion. “You think Connor could be behind this?”
“He has a motive. You left him. He didn’t take it well. Men like that don’t just let go.”
I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t know. Would Connor really be stupid enough to do this? I mean, his dad is running for reelection for the Senate seat. I just don’t think he would jeopardize his father’s bid by ending up in the news for stalking. The press would have a field day.”
His eyes narrowed. “If that were true, he wouldn’t have risked his or his father’s reputations by putting his hands on you. Which he did not once, but twice.”
I flinched at his words, the memories of Connor’s abuse still raw and painful. Theo noticed my reaction, and his expression softened. Setting both our mugs onto the coffee table, he gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
“I won’t let that bastard hurt you ever again. No matter who he is or who his father is.”
I nodded against his chest, drawing comfort from his solid presence and fierce protectiveness. “I know.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
We sat like that for a while, just holding each other, until my eyelids drooped with exhaustion, the adrenaline from earlier finally wearing off. He noticed and scooped me up, carrying me bridal style to his bed.
He gently laid me down and crawled beside me, pulling me back into his arms. I nestled into his warmth, my head pillowed on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
I traced my fingertips over the hard planes of his chest, marveling at the strength I felt coiled beneath his skin. “Theo,” I began hesitantly, “about my scar . . .”
He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. “You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready to share. Your secrets are yours until you’re ready for them to be mine too.”
I nodded, too tired to say anything more.
“Try to get some sleep, little bird,” he murmured, running his fingers through my hair soothingly. “I’ll keep watch. Nothing and no one will get to you here, I promise.”