Chapter 11 #4
Leaning back and palming his cheeks, I reply as my lips touch his, the earlier anger comes roaring back.
It grounds me in the present as it mixes with the lust, and that combination only increases my restlessness.
“For tonight.” He kicks open the door to my room, the scent of roses tickling my nose as the wind from the open balcony door whooshes all around us, the curtain flying in different directions while Mother Nature continues to rage outside.
I expect him to throw me on the bed, my brow furrowing when he places me in the middle of the room and steps back. Has he changed his mind?
I freeze when he unbuttons his wet shirt, uncovering his magnificent chest for me to see, and my fingers itch to trace over his perfectly carved six-pack, although my heart pangs painfully at the sight of his various scars.
The ones that seem to mar his shoulder blades, arms, and trail to his stomach, and probably his back.
Red slashes over muscular flesh speak about unhealed wounds that must have hurt like hell once upon a time. It explains why you’ll never catch him shirtless in public, as seen in any photos of Orion online.
In fact, despite the several surgeries he had to undergo, no one knew the exact damage that had been done to him. People loved to speculate about it.
I’m not sure why he does it.
He should wear them proudly as they speak about his strength, like a warrior who acquired scars on the battlefield protecting what he believed was right.
To survive a fire with this amount of damage and still face the world that always finds a way to speak about his looks, trying to turn his strength into a weakness, as they come up with all the names designed to humiliate him in some way. It’s almost like they resent the pedestal he’s on.
I hate them all for it because I see the challenge in his gaze, as if he dares me to run away from him once he shows me his true self.
“What do you think is happening here, darling?” His husky voice disturbs my senses, and my brow furrows in confusion even more than at his question.
It must be written all over my face, as he elaborates, “When I say you’re mine, what gives you the idea it’s just for tonight?
” He removes his shirt and throws it away, and I stifle back a moan because he’s so hot.
Instead, I retreat and lift my chin, shooting my own question. “You tell me. You’re the experienced one, remember?”
The green monster awakens at this because thinking about him having sex with other women makes me feel all kinds of stabby.
“While your jealousy turns me on, it also pisses me off, so stop it. You have no reason for it.” He unbuckles his belt, pulling it out of the loops, and the leather snaps in his grip before he drops it on the floor and moves toward me, so I retreat again even though my entire being shakes at the need in his eyes.
“Do you know what I’ve been doing for the past month?
” He toes off his shoes and runs his fingers through his hair, the muscles on his arm bulging.
It should be a crime to be this handsome.
That’s when it hits me that soon I’d have to get naked as well, and my body is…
far from perfect. Combined with all my insecurities, it creates a deadly combination to my self-esteem and nervousness.
Crossing my arms to somehow protect myself in this vulnerable state, I add a little bite to my tone when I reply, “Avoiding me?”
His humorless chuckle sends trepidation through me.
“Is that even possible?” Another step, and I move back, the curtain caressing the back of my calves now.
“The image of your delectable, gorgeous body polluted my mind every single night, making me as hard as a rock trying to get off on my fantasies alone, but it’s never enough.
I crave your taste like an addict searching for his next hit.
” The air hitches in my lungs at his admission, my skin prickling as heat slams into me, enveloping me tight while all I can do is stare at him, drinking in every word.
“You haunt my dreams and nightmares. Wherever I go, there is no reprieve from this madness demanding to take you on any available flat surface and make you mine while your screams of pleasure fill the space.” The muscle on his cheek twitches as I blink at this, and an odd sense of joy sweeps over me at the thought of him having restless nights because of me.
At least I wasn’t alone in my suffering because he decided to deny us both.
Stubborn, stubborn, confusing man, yet so wanted by me.
“I’m a man obsessed with his wife. Unfortunately for you, that’s a curse.
” I swallow at this, electric volts prickling my skin as his confession makes me dizzy, the invisible knot around my throat loosening because his voice replaces all the cruel ones I’ve heard over the years.
“You’re my only focus, so get it out of your pretty head that this is just for tonight.
You’re mine, and God help anyone who questions that fact. Yourself included.”
There is a certain finality to his statement, as if there is no room for argument.
And I welcome it, my exhausted mind sighing in relief because it no longer has to make any decisions to protect myself, and my heart can thrive in the chaos without guilt and fear.
Sometimes a lack of choice is a freedom because it gives us the chance to do whatever we wish without thinking about anything else but our desires and needs.
His admission pushes all my insecurities away. So while holding his stare, I reach behind me, catch the zipper, and tug on it so the straps fall from my shoulders to my arms. The dress slowly pools around my waist.
His gaze darkens, and my heartbeat speeds up when I tug at the zipper some more, and this time, the silk effortlessly slides down to my feet, leaving me standing in just my panties and high heels, earning me a groan from him.
My curves are on full display for Orion, and my nipples pucker as I raise my hand and remove all the pins holding my hair.
My auburn locks cascade down my form while the desire shining in his green eyes shoots excitement from the top of my head to the tips of my toes that curl before I take a tentative step toward him.
He was brave earlier when he admitted to wanting me, because for a man like him, that must be such a weakness. I can’t imagine anything disturbing Orion’s peace, but I did.
And that sense of power is too exhilarating to resist.
I come closer and place my hand on his chest, right on the rugged skin, tracing my fingers over the scars.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, leaning forward to kiss it, and he jolts, lacing his hands in my hair in a tight grip.
Skimming my palms down his six-pack, I map his body, hoping my touch can soothe the years of pain he must have endured.
“You shouldn’t touch them.” His rough voice awakens all my senses, and my hands skate upward until they settle on his shoulders. “They’re hideous.”
“Not to me.”
“My darkness shouldn’t dirty you up.” Thunder booms outside before lightning brightens everything around us.
“These scars…they prove I’m a monster, and you should have stayed away from me.
” He yanks at my hair harshly until we’re a breath apart.
“Not that it would have helped you. No matter where you go, I’ll still catch you. ”
“You’re not a monster.”
He chuckles, flattening his chest to mine, and I moan when my nipples brush against his bare skin. “Ah, darling. If you only knew.”
Too lost to focus on his cryptic tone, I open my mouth to reassure him, but he connects us with a kiss, his tongue probing and roaming inside as if marking his territory.
This kiss is almost a sign of possession as he’s truly a monster who has complete ownership over my body and would use it as he sees fit because he believes that’s his given right.
Our tongues brush against each other’s, the heat in my core burning, and I push myself into the embrace, despising any space between us because it prolongs the longing.
My surprised whimpers echo in the night when he breaks it off, turns me around, and presses my back to his front. His hard-on digs into my lower back, and my core clenches.
“Orion,” I say in protest when he throws my hair over my shoulder and rubs his five-o’clock shadow along my bare one before sucking on the skin and causing the lust to flame in my lower belly. His brawn serves as a chain around my waist, keeping me still for his glorious torment.
Resting my head on his chest, I sigh when he molds my breasts in his hand before pinching my nipples and making me jerk in his embrace, plastering tighter around him.
He scrapes his teeth over my nape and murmurs above my heated skin, “My innocent wife.” He grips my breasts, intensifying the need clutching me and seeming to suck out all the oxygen around me.
His splayed palm shifts to my stomach that dips under his touch, and goose bumps pop all over me when he places it above my mound, the pads of his fingers grazing my lower lips through the lace and gliding over the wetness.
“Look at you dripping for your husband.”
I cry out when he pushes my panties to the side, and his middle two fingers slide inside me, firing shots to my clit that begs to be touched while he agonizingly, slowly, stretches me out.
My nails sink into his forearm while I lift my hand and grab his hair, biting on my lip when he drives deeper.
I slowly rock my hips back and forth, desperate to chase the pressure growing inside me.