Chapter 35 In Another Life
He freezes, an anguished sound rumbling in his chest.
But I don’t pull away.
Instead, I lock my legs around his waist and press myself flush against him.
Ren snaps.
With a growl, he spins us around so I’m plastered against the wall. Our kiss deepens, my mouth parched, starved for the dominant flicks of his tongue. From the way his body grinds against me as he devours the sounds I’m making, he’s just as desperate.
The room fades around us. Pleasure rolls through my body as we maul each other with our lips and teeth. My fingers dig into his corded muscles, sharp tugs gathering low in my belly.
“A-Aria.” He pulls back, his voice hoarse. His eyes are black orbs, the irises swallowed by pupils. “You sure? I don’t want you to regret this.”
A muscle jumps in his temple, but he remains still.
My choice. That’s what his eyes are telling me.
Hand shaking, I rake my fingers through his thick, silky hair. I trail them across his masculine brow, his nose, the cheekbone and jawline usually hidden behind a mask. I’ve memorized him by touch already, but now I remember him with my eyes.
“Yes,” I whisper, my eyes fluttering shut. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Ren groans and slams our lips back together.
He lifts me, and we move.
I don’t care where we’re going. I’m drunk with everything that’s him—the way he cherishes me, worships me, treats me like I’m his salvation.
His jacket falls to the floor. Metal clangs—belt buckle removed. We’re a mess of impatient hands and desperate touches. Soon, cold air brushes my naked skin as my back meets the mattress.
My eyes widen when he climbs over me, all six-plus feet of leashed violence and feral intensity. It’s a shame I haven’t seen him in his naked glory before now, all carved muscle and old scars.
I rub my thighs together, the ache worsening at my core. My gaze drifts down the length of him—pecs, abs, sharp V-lines—and the weapon between his legs.
I know he’s well-hung. I’ve felt his length and girth in my hands. The pleasurable pain of him stretching me is something I’ll never forget.
But to see it with my eyes—the thick vein carving up one side, so perfect I want to lick it, the pre-cum glistening at the tip—it’s something else altogether.
“My gongzhu,” he murmurs and braces himself above me. His cock nudges at my belly.
“What does it mean? Will you tell me?”
His gaze darkens, and a soft smile curves his lips. “It means princess. The Little Prince was lonely, and you…you became his princess.”
Warmth floods my veins as I take in those mesmerizing eyes. The heartfelt sentiment. The quiet emotion in his voice. I want to let him see what he’s doing to me. How, in his presence, I feel the same way—alone before, but not anymore.
“You’ll never be lonely again.” I touch his neck, tracing those delicate vines and flowers until I reach the raised scar over his sternum.
My fingertips tremble.
“I’m glad you got his heart,” I whisper.
Ren flinches. Moisture glistens in his eyes.
“Ren.” I wipe his tears away, his anguish flowing straight to me from our touch.
I’ve never seen him cry before.
“You’re…everything,” he rasps.
He powers inside me in one deep stroke.
My pleasurable cries echo as he drives his hips, getting deeper with each thrust. He laces our fingers together, joining us in a way that feels more than sex.
“I don’t deserve you.” He presses the words to my ear.
“I’ll make it up to you for as long as I live.” The promise breaks something open inside me.
He changes the angle, pressing me deeper into the mattress, his cock touching a spot no one’s reached before.
“Ren!” I arch back, white-hot tension gathering at the base of my spine like a rope stretching.
And stretching.
And stretching.
Until it’s taut. Ready to snap.
“I don’t deserve you.” He tugs a beaded nipple into his mouth and gives it a hard suck.
I shudder, my pussy clenching, gripping his thickening cock.
Almost there. A little more.
“So tight,” he grunts and moves to the other breast, giving it the same devastating attention.
The bedframe rocks against the wall, the erotic rhythm quickening when he moves back up my body and yanks our hands above my head.
Eyes wild, lips parted and teeth bared, he looks like a frantic man on the edge of sanity.
“I love you, Aria.” His hips jerk harder. Sharper.
He’s burning himself deep within me.
“Always. Only you. Forever you,” he whispers.
His words melt into my soul. I want to say those three words back, but fear grips me tight. The last person I said this to died. Left me behind. I claw his back, wanting to tell him how important he is to me.
My lips part, but no sound comes out.
It’s too much—his cock hitting that spot, the pleasure cresting.
He reaches down, inserts a finger where we’re joined, and his thumb flicks my swollen clit.
I break.
“Ren,” I cry out as my soul splinters, then reforms, euphoria tearing through me in endless waves.
My mind blanks, barely aware of the wetness slicking down my thighs, the spasming of my pussy.
But my eyes remember to focus on his face.
The beautiful, masculine face that’s taut with restraint as he drives his cock inside me relentlessly, deepening my orgasm, sending me from one peak straight to another, my body no longer mine.
“My Aria.” He slams home one last time and smothers my mouth with a kiss. His body racks with tremors as his cum lashes into my core.
I’m spent, a deep contentment settling inside my bones while we slowly come down from our high.
Kissing my shoulder, Ren swipes my sweat-slicked hair off my forehead.
“We didn’t use a condom,” he murmurs, and he pulls me tight against him.
My eyes snap open. The last time was in the heat of the moment, something I told myself I’d never repeat.
But this time? I have no excuse.
“I’m on the pill and clear,” I whisper. “A-Are you?”
I feel his smile on my back. “Yes. I lived like a monk before you.”
A grin tugs at my lips at his imagery. I remember the Ren I first spoke to at the café. The cold, indifferent soldier hiding a passionate man beneath all that armor.
“I’ll be back,” he says.
After disappearing down the hallway, he returns moments later with a wet washcloth and wipes me down. He presses heated kisses along the way before climbing back into bed with me.
His hard cock brushes against my ass.
“Still?” I gasp.
“You’ve unleashed the monster.” Ren chuckles, rearranging me so I’m on my side, my small spoon to his big one.
Then he feeds his cock into me again, inch by inch.
“Again?” I whimper when his fingers brush my clit, sending more moisture to where we’re connected.
“No,” he grunts and cups my breast. “I just want to be connected to you. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and settle against him, feeling him inside me, around me.
And sleep, however impossible, finally overtakes me.
The next morning, I wake to the smell of…cookies?
My eyes flutter open, and I wince at the lingering soreness in my body.
Then I remember how he loved me last night. Every kiss. Every vow.
How he couldn’t bear to part with me when he kept himself inside me before I fell asleep. How I woke up in the dark hours later on the verge of orgasm, his body behind mine, his fingers in my mouth, my tongue already sucking them like I was made to be used by him.
How he once again kept his dick buried in my pussy before we slept.
My skin heats. I’ve never done this with anyone before. I didn’t know this side of me even existed.
You’re still mad at him, Aria. Don’t let good sex make you forget.
My lips twitch and I pinch myself. Yes. Can’t let him off the hook that easily.
I slide out of bed and tug on one of his discarded shirts and my sweatpants, smiling as I go to the bathroom to freshen up.
After brushing my teeth and splashing water on my face, I look up, my gaze catching my reflection in the mirror.
In particular, the ring swinging from my necklace.
My fingers drift to the cold stone glimmering under the harsh morning light.
For so long, I wore it—a testament that Blake was still a part of me, that I never forgot him.
It was my symbol of grief, even when I had to be brave.
When I had to fake my smiles to the world.
But the past several months with Ren changed me. He became a stonemason in the ruins of my heart, chipping away at the brittle slate of my grief. Until joy streamed through. Until I saw color again.
I slip the chain over my head and tuck it inside my pocket.
I might not know what the future holds for me and Ren. I’m still angry at him.
But I know this.
This ring belongs to my past, like Blake does. I’ll always remember him.
But my heart?
It has made room for a future with someone else.
I let out a sigh and smile at the mirror.
I can do this.
Ren’s baritone voice draws me into the small kitchenette, where I’m met with a tantalizing view of him, shirtless and dressed in gray sweatpants. He’s humming as he flips an egg in the pan.
It’s the same song I heard in the dark. His mother’s song.
“You’re still not going to tell me the name of the song?” I amble toward him.
Ren smiles and plates the food before shutting off the stove. He takes two mugs out of the cupboard and pours coffee into them.
Curling my arms around his waist, I let out a deep sigh and close my eyes, enjoying his strength and warmth. For a moment, I let myself pretend this is our life. A lazy Sunday. A man making breakfast for the woman he loves.
“Yue Liang Dai Biao Wo De Xin,” he says softly. “By Teresa Teng. It was a classic from the seventies. Took over Asia.”
“What does the title mean?”
“The moon represents my heart.” He turns around and looks at me affectionately. “Just like I told you before.”
I smile. “I thought you made it up.”
He shakes his head. “Like I told you last night, except for my identity and what I did in the past…everything else was real. Very real.”
Ren stills, his gaze dropping to my chest.
I look down and realize what he’s looking at.
No ring.
His throat works as his eyes drift up to mine. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask.
“It’s time,” I whisper, my voice thick.
He nods and places his hand over the spot where my ring used to rest.