Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Caelian
“Get the fuck off me!” I bark at my men.
They’ve surrounded me in an attempt to throw my arms over their shoulders and help me cross the pathway. I’m limping on my own. Blood leaks from several gashes that mar my face. I’ve got lumps and bumps all over. My head throbs in intense pain.
I’ve been in better shape.
If not for the couple that found me in the alleyway, I would’ve probably gone unnoticed all night and died by the morning. They’d snuck out of the club hoping for a quickie in the alley only to find a beaten man lying in a puddle.
I was conscious enough to convince them not to call 911. I had them call my men instead.
A man like me doesn’t deal with regular hospitals. I don’t get taken into ERs.
All my medical care is private. At the courtesy of doctors like Tulio and the Swiss medical clinic I was seeing for my debilitating condition.
Going to the ER most people off the street go to would open up too many questions. The authorities could get involved.
Few things could be worse for the lifestyle I lead.
My men stick by my side regardless. They escort me up the steps leading into my manor.
Dr. Tulio is already waiting for me inside the foyer, dressed in a hideous striped robe that falls to his ankles.
He’s got his glasses pushed onto his face and a head of rumpled hair, as if even he’s not sure what to expect.
But I’m looking beyond him.
Just a few feet off hover Ms. Poitier and my ballerina.
Worry fills Nevaeh’s beautiful face. Her full mouth’s shaped into a frown, and her brows draw close. She’s dressed in outside clothes, something I’d address immediately if I weren’t beaten to shit. It’ll have to be a matter for later.
I drag my gaze away from hers and pretend I don’t notice she’s around. A silent, subtle snub that no one else is paying attention to but her. Sadness dims her face even more, though she remains where she is.
Dr. Tulio and Ms. Poitier become my escorts. The crowd in the foyer disperses as my men move to follow Matteo for their next set of marching orders, and I’m taken to Tulio’s office. Nevaeh doesn’t follow…
For the rest of the night, I’m in Tulio’s care.
He cleans my wounds and stitches me up wherever needed.
He checks my vitals and serves me medications.
He lectures me about my condition and how it’s deteriorating at an even faster rate when I’m injured like this.
My immune system is too fragile and weak to withstand much.
“You’re lucky you’ve survived even this, Caelian,” he says, flicking at his syringe to chase away bubbles. “You can’t go bursting into situations and being beaten to a pulp like this. You won’t last much longer.”
“That’s what you say about my drinking.”
“And you still do it,” he says with a solemn shake of his head.
I’m in and out for the next few hours. My dreams feel blank, like I’m so unconscious my mind fails to conjure anything up. It’s a welcomed change from the last vivid dream I’d had—Nevaeh dancing for me again as danger loomed.
I wake in my bed, warm and clean from the bloodied, swollen savage that had turned up on the doorstep in the middle of the night. Then my eyes pan to the rest of my huge bedroom and I almost growl in surprise. I’m not as alone as I initially assumed.
Nevaeh is tucked into a corner, perched on the windowsill like a small cat would be.
How the hell did she get in here?
I explicitly forbade any visitors! I told my men to allow no one inside. I ordered Ms. P to keep a close eye on mia bella ballerina.
Yet here she is like nothing, like she’s permitted.
She senses I’m awake and drops her legs from where they’re folded up into her chest. Hopping onto her feet like the agile, fluid dancer she is, she’s at my side within the blink of an eye.
She floats toward me resembling an angel—luminous dark skin against the soft white cotton of her nightgown.
The thinner fabric teases the petite curves I’ve devoured underneath.
I’m caught between the instant heat of anger and arousal.
Two conflicting reactions, though two reactions that often work seamlessly together.
Tension works the muscles in my jaw. “Get out.”
“Caelian, I was just trying to keep an eye on you.”
“Get out.”
“I’m here to make sure you’re okay.”
“The door is over there.”
“Please, can’t you just—”
“THE DOOR!” I bellow at her, jerking a finger toward it.
She clamps her mouth shut from whatever it is she was about to say then blinks at me, long and slow as if too startled to utter another word. In the past, the taken aback look would’ve stirred something inside me. Possibly to reassure her I didn’t mean to be cruel or rough.
It was my natural instinct, but I also know I can’t treat her like I do others.
After recent events, I no longer find myself caring. Even if she is startled, I’m not about to assuage her feelings. That’s a perk she has given up.
She takes a moment to process my dismissive treatment then makes a decision I don’t expect. Rather than head for the door and leave as I’ve requested, she does the opposite. She steps toward the bed I’m lying in with the expression of someone facing their fear.
“I won’t go,” she says, her tone as fucking sad as her eyes. “I want to be by your side when you’re unwell.”
“You had your chance to be by my side.”
“What do I have to do, Cael? How can I prove I didn’t mean it?
” she pleads, rushing over. The next thing I know, she’s sliding onto the bed, straddling me with her soft, toned thighs, clutching her small hands to my rugged face as if about to kiss me.
“I didn’t leave to hurt you. I left to protect you. ”
“You’ll have to come up with a better lie than that, Nevaeh. Get off.” I wrench her hands away from my face and nudge her off my lap. I’m not trying hard and yet even slight forcefulness from me tips her over sideways.
Nevaeh quickly recovers, pushing herself up, a flash of determination in her dark eyes. She’s not even close to giving up. Even as I shun her and turn her away.
“I didn’t want to go with them. You have to believe me,” she says, crawling closer. My hands come up to grip her by the shoulders to once again push her off, but she clasps onto my thighs to anchor herself.
Our struggles become a sloppy wrestling match where I growl and whisk her off my lap. I flip her over ’til she’s pressed down into the mattress and I’m hovering above with teeth barred like the beast I transform into.
Nevaeh’s a bundle of energy underneath me, squirming for the first chance to slip free.
The tense air between us has only intensified. I’m pissed off and half hard in my sweatpants while she’s frustrated and desperate. We glare into each other’s eyes in our own form of telepathic communication.
“I told you to get out,” I grunt.
“And I’ve told you I want to be by your side.”
I squeeze her wrists. Roughly but keeping in mind my strength and her petite size. Just enough to seize her attention and make it clear I’m not falling for her antics. I’m serious when I say I want her gone.
But Nevaeh merely tilts her chin up at me in defiance. If she’s going to leave, I’ll have to physically remove her myself.
“It would be best if you leave. You’ll be spared my wrath.”
“I want your wrath… I want what you’ll give me…
” She arches her malleable body so she comes up within inches of my face, so close it once again seems like she’s about to kiss me.
She stops just close enough that her full lips almost graze mine.
“I’ll take what you give, Cael. If you want to be angry with me, then be angry. Yell. Break things.”
“Punish you, mia bella ballerina.”
She double blinks, surprised for half a second, then she agrees. “Yes. Punish me. Just don’t push me away. Please.”
Her offer pierces through the heady anger/arousal combo that’s driving me.
I consider it peering into the shiny dark orbs that make up her eyes, and I see the desperation on my ballerina’s beautiful face.
She’s reached a breaking point where she’ll take whatever she can if it means having something of me.
If only she hadn’t made me this way. She wouldn’t have to settle for pieces; I’d have given her everything.
But as in love with her as I am, the bad blood between us roars stronger. It consumes me ’til I’m reminded why I can no longer stand her presence. She’s nothing more than a reminder of the betrayal that revealed a deep vulnerability of mine.
That doesn’t stop me from taking her up on her offer. My urges still pulse through me, driving me to a place where only basic instincts matter. I’ll take what I want, and she’ll have to accept the new reality of our marriage.
The man who tried to make her life enjoyable as my wife is gone. He died the day she left our home.
I make the snap decision in a quick flash of movement.
I go from hovering over Nevaeh to lying under her.
She comes along, yanked up and deposited into my lap.
We’ve returned to where we started, where she’d climbed astride me.
I pull my huge, throbbing erection out and grab her by the hips to lift her and align us.
“You want what I give you, bella?” I snarl, feeling hot with arousal. I pull her down onto me with a yelp from her as I’m surrounded by instant warmth, and she struggles to accommodate my size. “Fine. Then ride my cock. And don’t you dare fucking stop ’til I fill this pussy all the way up.”