39. All Yours
i'd appreciate if y'all could vote and comment!
We are back in our penthouse, sitting on the couch.
We both are wearing gray sweatpants, a soft white camisole for her and me shirtless, obviously. She's already perched on my lap, legs straddling me.
She said with a cheeky smile that she likes my back muscles, and abs, so she prefers I stay shirtless. Whenever she runs her hands through my back the only thought I get is
Worth it, every hour of training, and gym. Worth it.
I should also ask her to stay shirtless since I like her ti-
My ribs ache, my knuckles are raw, and every muscle in me screams that I've got a fight tomorrow. Yeah, I'm injured as hell.
And knowing my woman?
She's already worried sick.
Her fingers ghost over the bruises on my chest, her brows knit like the weight of the world depends on me being careful for once. "You shouldn't even be moving like this." she mutters, lips pursed in that way that makes me want to kiss her until she forgets what she was scolding me about.
I smirk, leaning back into the couch, pretending it doesn't hurt when my ribs protest. "What, and miss having you on my lap? Not happening, Swan."
She glares at me, and her thumb brushes over a cut on my jaw. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
"If I drive you crazy its only because I'm crazy about you, Swan." I say smiling.
She sighs, sliding off my lap just enough to grab the first aid kit "Stay still." she mutters.
I raise a brow. "You're bossy tonight."
"Shut up!" she says, though the way her fingers tremble as they hover over my cheek tells me she's not really annoyed. She dabs the wipe over the cut on my jaw, gentle but still stinging enough to make me hiss.
I don't show the pain, usually, but with her its completely different.
Her eyes flick to mine instantly. "Does it hurt too much?"
"Not as much as watching you worry."
Her lips press together, determined, as she moves to my ribs. I tense when she lifts my arm, revealing the angry red bruise blooming there. Her hand lingers a second too long.
"Xav..." she whispers, her voice cracking. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
I cup the back of her head with one hand. "Because the ring is what I know. But," My thumb strokes her cheek. "you're what I want."
She finishes dabbing the antiseptic along my jaw, but instead of pulling back, she lingers. Her eyes soften, blue like the sky after a storm, and then she leans in and presses her lips to the bruise.
The gentlest kiss. Feather-light.
"You don't get it, do you?" she whispers against my skin. Her lips brush the corner of my mouth "Every mark on you feels like it's on me too."
I swallow hard, my hands finding her waist, holding her steady as she keeps moving, down to my collarbone where the skin is darkened from a hit earlier.
"You're killing me, Swan."
"No," she murmurs, finally looking up at me with that look of worry and love, "I'm trying to keep you alive."
Her lips move again, this time to my shoulder where the skin is hurt from another blow. She kisses it once, then twice. I can feel the care in every touch, the way she's pouring all her fear and love into this one small act.
I can't breathe. I don't even want to. I just want to stay here and let her undo me like this.
She shifts slightly on my lap, straddling me closer, and presses her lips to the bruise on my ribs.
I close my eyes, my jaw clenching as the feeling wrecks me. "Amara..." My voice comes out low, broken.
"Shh, let me take care of you." Her kisses trail upward, up my chest, to my neck, her lips brushing, lingering, leaving warmth everywhere she kisses.
By the time she reaches my jaw again, my hands are gripping her waist like she's the only thing holding me together.
"Why do you do that?" I ask, my voice rougher than I intend, the words scraping out of me before I can stop them.
Her brows knit in confusion. "Do what?"
"Kiss the parts of me that are fucked?" My hand tightens around her waist, like if I don't hold her, I might fall apart.
"Because," she says softly, cupping my face in her warm hands, "those are the parts that prove you fight.
That you survive. That you're still here.
" Her thumb traces a cut on my cheek, her gaze tender but fierce.
"And if they're a part of you, Xav, then I'll love them just as much as I love the rest of you. "
I feel the breath leave me, somewhere between my ribs and my throat. Her thumb keeps tracing that stupid little cut on my cheek like she can soothe the whole world with the tip of her finger.
She can heal my world.
"You think you're keeping me alive," I whisper, forehead pressed to hers, "but Swan you're the only reason I breathe at all."
The weight of my words still hangs between us and for one heartbeat everything is raw and silent.
Then she grins, all mischief and light, like she's decided to flip the world right-side up with one ridiculous sentence. "Now, it's time for skincare!"
"Skincare?" I ask, because of course she would choose that exact moment to be adorable and bossy.
"Yes. Your face needs attention." She hops off my lap with the confidence of someone who has a plan and refuses to be argued with. She's bringing out the good stuff- cleansers, cooling gels, a soothing balm for the cuts, and two ridiculous sheet masks she insists will 'make us glow like idiots.'
Yeah, I know it, this isn't the first time she's done skincare on me. Lucky for us cause we both have got the same skin type as well.
I try to protest. "I'm injured, not a beauty pageant contestant."
"Exactly, but you deserve pampering." She winks, and something in me loosens.
She settles back on my lap and the world narrows to the small space where her legs drape over mine and her hands find my face again.
She reaches for the skincare bottles, and I can't help but watch her with awe. The way she moves, focused yet playful, makes my chest tighten.
She presses closer, and I tighten my arms around her. Her warmth seeps into me, grounding and electric all at once. I can feel her heartbeat against mine, and somehow it matches the rhythm of mine perfectly.
She immediately grabs the serum I had been pretending to hate. "Okay, Xav," she says, "first, you cleanse. Gotta remove dirt, sweat, and all that fight residue."
I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Really, Swan? Residue? Are we doing science now?"
Her hands are soft but firm as she pats the cleanser onto my face. "Yes! You don't want wrinkles, or dry skin, or clogged pores." she scrunches her nose while saying 'clogged pores'
I chuckle, letting her work. She's adorable when she gets serious like this. She leans closer, and I catch the faint scent of her perfume mixed with the skincare smells.
She smells like lavender.
"Next," she continues, holding up a bottle, "we have the serum. This little miracle goes on after cleansing. Apply gently, upward motions. Remember gravity's our enemy." She demonstrates, slapping a little on my cheek.
"Pat, not slap." she adds with mock severity. I catch the playful glint in her eyes and grin.
She leans closer "Now moisturizer. This locks everything in. You can thank me later, Ring Lord."
I chuckle, letting her hands linger on my shoulders as she works. Her touch is careful but teasing, like she's both instructing me and reminding me who's in charge.
She pulls back a little, inspecting her work. "Perfect."
I grin, pulling her close again. "You make everything better. Even my stupid face."
Her eyes widen, and she jabs a finger at my chest, "Xavier Hayes, respectfully shut up. Your face is not stupid."
Then she leans in, voice dropping soft but intense, like she's reciting something from the depths of her heart. "Your eyes, your smile, I love it. That smile" She pauses, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "that smile is only mine. Only mine, Xavier. Do you hear me? Mine."
I smile instinctively, "Mhm, all yours." I nod like a kid.
Her hands wander, one slipping over my abs, fingers tracing the lines I know all too well, and the other resting on my shoulder blades, grounding herself against me. The combination of her touch and her words makes something ignite inside me.
"Swan" I murmur, voice rough, "you're perfect."
She smirks, leaning closer, pressing her forehead to mine. "and I'm all yours, remember?"
"Mhm. All mine, Swan" I murmur, letting my hands trace the delicate curve of her collarbone, lingering over the swan pendant I gave her.
As if on instinct she squeals, "OMG, I just remembered something!" she pats, my shoulder and gets up, "Hold up."
I watch her as she walks to our room, and she comes back a moment later, holding two delicate bracelets- one gray, one blue. My chest tightens, because I immediately understand. Our eyes. Mine gray and steady and hers blue and stormy.
"The blue one's for you," she says, sliding it onto my wrist a smile. "It has a swan charm."
"And the gray one's for me," she continues, fastening it on her own wrist, "with a crown charm." She meets my gaze, eyes bold, bright, untamed. "Because I'm the queen, obviously."
I glance at the charms, a crown for my title- 'The Ring Lord' and a swan cause she's my Swan.
"Mhm," I murmur, smiling "you're The Ring Lord's queen, Amara."
I lift her effortlessly onto my lap, feeling her settle against me, the bracelets brush lightly as I press a soft kiss to her shoulder.
The Ring Lord and his Swan.
Whatever the ring throws at me tomorrow doesn't matter, because I've already won tonight.
i was able to take some time over the weekend to write, and i would greatly appreciate it if you could vote :))