Barely Anything
Ares
By the time they move Charlotte from the hospital room into one of the guest bedrooms in the Rossi Mansion, I’m pretty much healed, and when Ahren gives me the room next door, he cocks a brow.
“Please do use the room, or it would have been a waste of the staff’s time,” he drawls.
I mean… obviously I’ll fucking use it; it’s not like she’s going to invite me into her bed tonight, init. Asshole.
The healers insisted we both rest before we leave.
I told them we didn’t have time for that shit, but Leo wasn’t really any help either, and Ahren is pretty much holding us hostage. Although he said I could leave Charlotte and go, which I am obviously not going to do.
And what’s more fucking irritating is that she agreed that I could just go.
She did it with that infuriating calm voice, like she really didn’t give a fuck if I left or not. And she probably fucking knew I wouldn’t go.
Delsanra had asked me to eat with them, and food would be sent for Charlotte. I had refused and said I’d eat with her as well. That smile on her face as she had agreed was exactly like Sienna’s.
Speaking of Sienna, I had requested no one tell anyone yet that we were mates. Skyla said she wouldn’t, Royce had nodded, and Ahren, well… he simply gave me a look and said, “I don’t gossip.”
He fucking does.
I now walk down the huge corridor to Charlotte’s room. This place is way too big; I don’t even know why they need the hallway to be four metres wide.
Waste of space.
I stop outside her door and knock; no answer.
I frown and knock again, then I try the handle; it opens. I step inside only to realise the room is empty.
But her scent lingers; before I can even panic that maybe she upped and left, the bathroom door opens, and a waft of steam fills the room. Charlotte steps into the room wearing nothing but a towel.
I stop breathing.
Completely.
She freezes too, with one hand on the doorframe, damp hair falling over her shoulder in loose, wet waves, her skin flushed from the heat of the shower, and the tiny towel only partially covering her breasts and barely reaching mid-thigh.
My mind goes blank as I watch water trickle down her smooth, supple skin and swallow hard.
I should say something that isn’t about how much I want to pin her to the bed and- fucking hell.
I growl in frustration and glance up at her standing there with bare legs and wet hair.
Then, as if something snaps her back to reality, she blinks, her grey eyes widening for one small second before she seems to remember who she is and looks at me with the air of a woman who doesn’t care about the effect she’s having on me.
“Ares,” she says, clearing her throat.
I look at her face, my gaze dipping to her lips, then my control fails, and my attention falls to her breasts again.
“Westwood.”
My eyes flick to hers, and she watches me with narrowed eyes.
I blink and massage the back of my neck, trying to remember what I’m doing.
“Oh yeah, erm, you didn’t answer; I knocked,” I say.
“You could have waited outside,” she says, one hand loosely wrapping around herself as she holds her towel to her chest.
“Yeah, I did wait,” I reply, my eyes trailing over her again, and this time her cheeks tinge pink. She knows I’m watching her, and yet she doesn’t hide.
“For what? Half a second?” she asks dryly, raising an eyebrow.
“Long enough.”
“For you, perhaps.”
I shut the door behind me, and her gaze flicks to it, then back to me.
The air in the room changes, the tension between us almost visible.
She swallows, and I almost smirk, but the only reason I do not cross the room in one movement and pin her against the bathroom door is because she is still healing; that doesn’t stop my eyes from trailing over her again. I can appreciate her.
“Eyes up here, Westwood,” she says.
I let out a rough laugh because fuck, she has no idea. “You’re standing there in an itty-bitty towel, Princess. And you expect me to look at your face? Even if it is pretty as fuck?”
Her lips curl into a faint smile at the compliment, but she still manages to look offended, which is impressive. “You are shameless,” she says.
“Yeah, I’ve been told.”
“So why did you come?”
“To check up on you,” I say as she walks over to the vanity table. My gaze travels over her legs.
“As you can see, I’m good. You should leave.”
“If you really want me to leave, then you need to say it like you mean it,” I say quietly.
She pauses, her fingers inches from a hairbrush, but she doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t turn towards me either, her chest rising and falling far more rapidly now.
I’m not good at fancy words and shit, so if she’s expecting me to come out with some poetic shit, she’s got the wrong Westwood.
But she hasn’t told me to leave. I walk closer to her, her heart giving her away, and I almost smirk.
I reach her, and she turns to look up at me, her hair sliding over her shoulder, and my attention falls to a dark bruise near her shoulder.
Something irritatingly irrational rips through me, and my eyes darken as I reach for her, brushing her hair back fully.
“That one hasn’t gone? Does it still hurt?” I ask, jaw clenched.
“Barely,” she replies, almost amused at my reaction.
“Then why is it still there?”
“Because bruises do not vanish simply because you glare at them,” she retorts. “I’m weakened; it’s going to take time.”
“That’s fucking annoying,” I growl.
“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it, so stop growling,” she says.
I hate that it’s still there. I brush my fingers over it gently, and that seems to make her look a little less hostile. “Really. I’m fine,” she adds softly, as if realising I might just care.
And ok, yeah, I do, but I ain’t going to keep shouting it from the rooftops. I’ve told her once; that’s enough.
She inhales softly, and I’m far too aware of it, of her heartbeat, her breathing, the tiny way she swallows, trying to remain in control.
“You’re too quiet… That’s weird, even for you, Ares…” she says, her blush deepening; it mirrors the one at the hospital after we spent a few minutes kissing, until a nurse interrupted. No one leaves us the fuck alone.
“What do I say? That I did a shitty job at keeping you safe?” I ask quietly. I wish I could take the words back; they’re a tad too honest for me.
But she doesn’t tease me; instead, she turns fully towards me. “It was not your duty to protect me; we were working as a team… and yet you did. It’s just a bruise, Ares,” she says, placing her hand on my bicep, her eyes softening.
“Careful,” I warn, voice rough. “You really shouldn’t look at me like that if you want me to behave.”
Her cheeks flush deeper, but she doesn’t move away; her heart thunders as she slowly moves closer, one hand still clutching her towel. My hand travels from her shoulder up her neck, my thumb brushing along the centre, feeling her swallow beneath it.
“Maybe I don’t want you to behave then,” she replies with that same controlled confidence of hers.
“Oh yeah? Although your brother is somewhere in this mansion?” I murmur with a smirk.
She shrugs. “He’ll probably just try to zap you with lightning.”
“And you’ll let him?” I smirk, my finger still brushing along the centre of her neck.
“Maybe? I mean, you can defend yourself, right, big boy?” She looks at me with a spark in her eyes, even though her heart is pounding. My finger travels up her jaw and across her bottom lip.
“Yeah, just don’t complain if I end up hurting him,” I murmur as she wraps her lips around my thumb for a moment.
“He’ll live,” she says quietly when I slip my thumb out, and I almost chuckle at that.
“That’s not something I’d think Princess Arden would ever say.”
Then, before she can reply, I kiss her.
I tell myself it’ll be a quick one, because she’s still injured and I am not a complete bastard, no matter what half the world thinks, but the second her lips move against mine and her hand slides up my chest, control becomes a fucking joke.
She pulls me closer, and I respond without hesitation; my hands grab hold of her waist, pulling her fully against me, one arm snaking around her firmly, the other cupping the back of her head.
She tastes insane, and the soft little moan that leaves her makes me lose any control I have. I’m already fucking semi-hard, but the way she’s kissing me, it’s obvious she doesn’t want me to stop.
I turn us, backing her towards the bed. She moves backwards, her hand now on my waist, the other around my neck, and we come to a stop when the backs of her legs hit the bed.
I break the kiss just enough to breathe, my forehead resting against hers, my hand still at her waist, every instinct in me telling me to keep going, and every sensible thought reminding me that she needs rest.
“You sure, Princess? ‘Cause if I don’t stop now… I ain’t going to be able to,” I ask, looking down at her, at her damp hair, at the towel that is one light tug away from being on the floor, and my control is so fucking thin that I’m struggling not to yank it off right now.
“Then don’t,” she murmurs, her hands finding the hem of my T-shirt and yanking it off over my head.
“Alright then,” I murmur, lightly pushing her backwards onto the bed. She almost looks amused as she allows herself to fall, bouncing lightly when she hits the bed, her towel coming undone.
I still, one knee resting on the bed as my eyes roam over her. Soft pink nipples, round firm breasts, the faint outline of abs, narrow waist, round hips and her smooth pussy… My throat is suddenly dry.
I whistle, nice and low.
“You’re damn fine,” I murmur before straddling her and leaning down to claim her lips again, one forearm braced against her head, similar to how it was beneath the Desert Storm Pack, but this time, the only reason is to keep my weight off her as my other hand travels down her neck, then to her breast, squeezing it between my fingers before rubbing her nipple.
She gasps against my lips, one hand in my hair, the other running up and down my back.
“You like that, Princess?” I murmur. She blushes, but I simply kiss her down her jaw until I reach her neck and pepper it with kisses, nipping and sucking on the smooth skin as my knuckles brush down her stomach and lower. I suck in a breath, my hand brushing her slick pussy.
It ain’t ‘cause of the shower; I can smell her arousal in the air, and it’s fucking driving me nuts.
“Fuck, Ares…” She moans the moment my hand brushes against her clit.
I smirk, my lips trailing lower until I take her nipple in my mouth and suck on it lightly.
She parts her legs as if wanting to give me better access, and I rub her softly, drawing another moan from her.
Fuck, this woman is going to be the fucking end of me. I kiss her down her stomach, and then I look down at her, my finger still buried between her lips, and I remove it, pressing her knees to the bed on either side of her.
She moans softly at that, and I take a moment to appreciate her pussy, a possessive desire overcoming me. Then I press my tongue flat against her entrance and run my tongue slowly up to her clit, drawing another delicious moan from her.
“Goddess, Ares…” she breathes hornily.
I smirk against her pussy, inhaling her slowly.
“Keep moaning my name, Princess, and let me take care of you.”