My eyes catch on the blood; it’s everywhere. Streaked across his cheek and jaw, smeared on his neck, soaked into the collar of his shirt and down one arm. I’ve never seen Soren like this up close. He’s always clean when he comes to me, maybe on purpose. The sight reminds me exactly who he is to the rest of the world: the cold, ruthless man who walks out of rooms leaving bodies behind. My stomach twists, but I can’t look away.
Soren’s voice snaps me out of the daze, low, demanding, and edged with that dangerous grin. “Strip.”
I barely register the word at first. My mouth moves before my brain catches up. “You…”
He tilts his head, waiting. I usually obey instantly, even though shame still prickles under my skin whenever I compare my smaller, softer body to his powerful, inked frame. I still can’t comprehend how he findsanypart of me attractive.
“You’ve gotbloodon your face,” I whisper.
Soren lets out a short, rough laugh and starts unbuttoning his shirt with blood-stained fingers. “Does it bother you, little mouse?”
Little mouse.Another pet name to add to the growing list. I blink, dumbfounded. “Huh?”
He lets the shirt fall open and then drop to the floor entirely. My eyes immediately lock onto his tanned, heavily tattooed chest… broad, muscled, the black ink shifting with every breath. I hate how attractive he is… or rather, I hate that I like it so much. I hate that my body is already reacting, heating up, even while my mind screams that this is wrong. He clearly wants to fuck me right now, and I know I’ll enjoy it. But I wish it meant something. I wish I could have sex with someone who actually cared about me in a way Soren never could.
He undoes his trousers and lets them fall too, stepping out of them. My gaze shamelessly drops to the growing bulge in his boxers before I force it away, cheeks burning.
“Aren’t you going to wash it off?”
Soren growls softly and steps closer, crowding me until I can feel the heat rolling off his body. “Not right now.”
A shiver races down my spine.
He reaches for me, gripping the hem of my pyjama top and pulling it up and off in one smooth motion. The cool air hits my skin, and he growls again, low and appreciative, eyes raking over me. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, arms hanging uselessly at my sides. I like that he likes my body, but I stillcan’tunderstand why. It upsets me how small and insignificant I feel next to him… like a fragile doll he could break without even trying. Maybe that’s exactly what he enjoys most.
Before I can process anything else, his big hands grab my hips, and he throws me onto the massive bed. I gasp at the sudden motion, bouncing once on the silk sheets.
Then he’s crawling over me, gloriously naked, all tanned skin, dark ink, and hard muscle. He hooks hisfingers into the waistband of my pyjama bottoms and boxers and yanks them down in one swift pull.
I yelp, instinctively closing my legs, suddenly shy. Soren grunts in disapproval and grabs my knees, parting them firmly again until I’m completely exposed to him.
I stare up at the ceiling, heart hammering, but then he’s there, taking up my entire view. His broad shoulders and chest block out everything else. If he dead-weighted on me right now he would slowly crush me. The size difference is overwhelming… ineverymanner.
It makes my own seven inches, which I’ve read is actually decent… feelcompletelyinsignificant next to his thick, heavy length. I only know the exact comparison because he once measured me when he couldn’t fit all of me easily in his mouth. He seemed pleased, but who knows with him.
Soren reaches over to the nightstand, grabs the bottle of lube, and pops the cap. His voice is rough but quieter now. “Tell me what happened today.”
My eyes widen slightly.Why does he want to know?
I don’t usually talk much with him at all, but after what happened with Selina and Armen earlier, ignoring him feels like a terrible idea.
“I… I don’t want to…” I mumble.
He squeezes the bottle and cool lube drips directly onto my ass. I gasp at the sudden cold. He drops the bottle aside and starts circling my entrance with one thick finger.
“You didn’t cope very well?” he asks, pressing just the tip inside.
I close my eyes, shame burning hot across my cheeks, and shake my head.
He pushes the finger in slowly. The familiar burn and resisting stretch hits first. I try to relax through it, breathing steadily. Then he curls that finger and drags it perfectly over that spot inside me. My eyes fly open, my back arches sharply off the bed, and a broken moan tears from my throat before I can stop it.
Soren groans, pleased, and keeps stroking that same spot while he leans down and nibbles at the side of my neck.
“You think you’d have done better if I were there?” he murmurs against my skin.
The question swims through the haze of pleasure. Honestly, the way his presence calmed me the second I saw him downstairs… I moan again and whisper, “Y-yeah… I think so.”
He hums, clearly content, and adds a second finger. My body arches up into him, brushing against the hard planes of his muscled chest and stomach.
