“I need…” I don’t recognize this panting and starved voice. My throat feels dry. Rolling my hips closer to him when he delivers a hot kiss, I cry out and beg, “Please, I need?—”
“Me,” he replies, slipping his tongue out and licking upward while his fingers enter me. The double sensation and rhythm earn a loud moan from me and a growl from him. “You need me.” Another gasp escapes my parted lips when he slaps my ass cheek, the sound rocking off the walls and sinking me deeper in his twisted web. “And who am I?”
I bite my lip, the pleasure sneaking up on me and traveling up my back while the scorching heat swirls within me, ready to erupt at any moment and burst everything into flames. He stills, and I whimper in distress, hating him and needing him at once, knowing full well that he won’t continue until he hears what he wants. “My husband.”
Orion replaces his finger with his tongue. As his mouth becomes more demanding, I start to move in tandem with his thrusts, and my breathing speeds up. My stomach dips, my core clenches around him, and his hands grip me, turning rougher. The combination of all these things finally shatters something in me, and I reach the peak.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, then freeze when he untangles my fingers from his hair and puts my leg back on the table. My cheeks must turn red when I see myself glistening on his mouth.
His lips travel up my stomach, breasts, collarbones, and neck before they reach mine, and he entangles us in a toe-curling kiss, asking for complete possession and submission while my body sours, and he swallows my moans. I taste myself on his tongue, and the need to find out what he tastes like swipes through me. Just imagining taking him into my mouth causes a different kind of fire in my veins.
I pull away and gulp in a breath while my thighs flex around him, my fingers gripping his shirt. Every cell in my body is filled with bliss and hunger, but greedy for more.
The action pushes his hard-on against my core, the rough texture of his jeans scraping at me, and I’m wet just from imagining him entering me for the first time and taking what I am so freely offering to him.
Was it only this morning when I considered this man a mere stranger?
I can’t fathom wanting anyone more, and as insane as it sounds, I want him to claim every inch of me and show me what belonging to such a man truly entails.
His masculine scent plays on the strings of my desire. I want to rip away this shirt that blocks my pathway to his bare skin so I can adore him in all the ways he worshipped me and imprint my own marks on his skin.
His body that will become a canvas for my curious nature, and though shyness sweeps over me at the thought, I can’t help but want to stake my claim all over him so no one would ever dare to touch him.
Or hurt him again if the puckered, rough flesh under my fingers on his shoulder is any indication.
His muscles grow rigid, and my eyelids flutter open as he moves back a little, his warmth leaving me at once. He grips my hips tighter right as he pulls us up, trapping me in his embrace.
The hunger and turmoil in his eyes only heighten the craving eating at me, my heart making a loud thud against my rib cage at the sight of the scar that must have brought him so much pain.
They call him a beast for no fault of his own. At this moment, he’s a prince to me, and I wish I had been there to protect him from the scrutiny society has shown him over the years.
A scar that I’m yet to kiss.
I place my splayed palm on his cheek, tracing my fingers over it, and freeze when his gaze gradually transforms from blazing to cold to downright cruel, stinging me.
He grabs my hand and pushes it away, stepping back as I frown in confusion. “Orion,” I whisper, hating how unsure and shaky my voice sounds even to my own ears. But I have no idea what’s going on.
We’ve just experienced something beautiful, and he’s acting as if…
Without uttering a single word, he turns on his heel and walks away from the dining table as the wind whooshes inside from the open terrace door. The cold settles on my heated skin as shame and hurt glide through my veins, replacing the earlier thrill.
My body that soared just seconds ago feels used and abandoned, and all my past insecurities come back, hunting my mind and painting scenarios in my head.
I’m inexperienced, so maybe I have done something wrong?
“You’re pathetic,” Father says, ripping the bow from my hair and throwing it away. My hands tremble because I spilled orange juice all over my white dress. “Useless little shit who takes after her mother.” I hang my head under his scrutiny. “How I wish you had died right along with her.”
The wooden clock ticks loudly in the otherwise silent room as I adjust my dress, using all my strength to control the sobs trying to escape. I hold back the tears because I should have known better.
When will I ever learn?
CHAPTER NINE
“Love is a privilege, and whoever tells you otherwise?
Never knew darkness and loneliness.
For everything in this life has a price.
