Chapter 26

Evelyn

Hugging my bathrobe close, I step out of our bedroom into the dark hallway. After spending nearly an hour out in the freezing cold with the birds, I excused myself to take a nice hot shower to warm up and get changed for the night.

Looking up and down the hallway, my eyes land on the thin strip of warm light creeping through the bottom of Noah's office door. Instead of going to bed, he has disappeared into his office to take care of some business. This man better not be planning anything. Yes, he is well enough to take care of his daily needs by himself again, but if he tries anything stupid, I will not hesitate to lock him in the basement.

In a couple of steps I reach the door and knock. "Come in." He calls and I wrap my fingers around the handle, turn it and push in. The moment the door swings open, my eyes land on Noah. The room is dark except for the flickering light from the fireplace, which illuminates him as he sits in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, still dressed in his button-up and suit pants. A week ago, he started to dress up again, getting back into his routine step by step. He is sitting comfortably leaning back in the cushions holding a glass of whiskey.

My focus remains on his hand for a little while longer. He's still on a number of different medications, and he shouldn't be drinking while he's dealing with the aftermath. But I've come to accept that a glass every other night won't kill him. In fact, he seems even more relaxed since I caved and stopped scolding him for drinking.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I cross the room and come to a halt in front of him. "How are you feeling?" I ask, twirling the ends of my robes belt between my fingers.

"I'm fine. I didn't think I'd say this, but I'm enjoying the peace and quiet." My eyes widen the moment the words leave his lips, and I realize that, except for the soft crackling of the fire, there is no other noise—no birds chirping, no music, no TV show, nothing.

"That's fantastic!" A broad smile spreads across my face as my heart swells with pride. I step around the small coffee table and lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve into a lazy smile as he looks me up and down, his eyebrows raised. He lifts a hand and twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers. "Your hair is down, aren't you going to bed?"

"No." My smile turns into a smirk. "I had something else in mind."

"And what would that be?"

I take a step back, straighten my posture, and in one smooth motion I pull at the ends of my robe, the fabric loosening around my shoulders as I let it sink to the floor around me. Noah's eye widens, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows, his gaze roaming over my body as he takes in the sight of me dressed in white, see-through lace lingerie.

Not waiting for his reaction, I nudge my leg into his kneecap and like on autopilot he spreads his legs, allowing me to step in between. My heart drums against my ribcage, nervous, excited as his eye follows my every move. I reach for his whiskey, snatch the glass from his hand, raise it to my lips and empty it. But instead of swallowing, I drape my arms around his shoulders, lean down and press my lips to his, forcing the liquor into his mouth.

A low grunt rattles through his throat as he accepts the drink from me, swallowing it with ease. I'm about to pull away when his hands land on my hips and he yanks me onto his lap, shoving his tongue into my mouth and pulling a whimper out of me .

I tighten my arms around his shoulders, bringing my hands to rest on the back of his head, my fingers weaving through his hair as I respond to the kiss with equal passion. His hands slide from my hips to my ass, guiding me as I roll my hips in a fluid motion into his growing erection.

My breathing picks up as I grind against his bulge, the covered zipper of his pants catching my aching clit and drawing a quiet moan from me. My arousal seeps through the sheer fabric of my thong and stains his pants in no time. I've been craving him for so long, my body betraying me with its desperation.

A loud groan escapes his throat as I roll my hips into his once more but I break away from the kiss. I trail soft kisses from the corner of his mouth across his cheek to the scar where his right eye used to be, brushing my lips against the rigid skin. "I love you," I whisper, moving on until I reach the scar where his ear once was. "I love every scar on your body." I pull back just enough to look at him, his bright green eye staring back at me. Sliding my hands from his hair to his face, I cup his cheeks in my palms. "You will always be the most attractive man for me."

"Dove..." His lips part, but I press a finger against them to silence him.

"I mean it," I insist, my gaze locked on his eye. "They show that you went through hell and came out the other side. They show how dangerous, how unhinged you are. And that... that drives me crazy." My heart races as I speak, the words tumbling out with a mixture of awe and lust.

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that ripples through his chest. His remaining eye darkens with lust and something deeper, something that has always drawn us together, our primal need for each other. His hand slides to my neck, his fingers curling around my throat as his thumb brushes over my pulse and draws a gasp from me. "Show me," he demands, his voice rough and raw.

Following his command, I smash my lips against his, urgent and hungry, pouring every emotion into it as I lose myself in the familiar rhythm. Sheer desperation runs through our veins, his hands busy exploring every exposed inch of my skin, his fingers dipping beneath the sheer fabric of my lingerie. His need, his desperation to be reassured, to know that I still want him, still crave him, is evident as his rough fingertips tremble against my skin.

Without wasting another second, I slip my fingers through the narrow openings of his button tape and rip his shirt open, completely ignoring the flying buttons. I place my hands flat against his exposed chest, the touch of his skin sending a jolt between my legs, my clit throbbing with need. Tracing the curves of his muscles, my fingers brush against the many scars that mark his skin as I travel lower. With a quick, skillful twist of my wrists, I unbuckle his belt, undo the button on his pants, and push the zipper down. We break from the kiss and our eyes meet. Our ragged breathing mixes between us, tickling my skin.

No words are necessary and he lifts his hips off the cushions, allowing me, despite the awkward position, to push the fabric of his pants and boxers far enough to free his raging hard erection. "Let me make you feel good," I say, wrapping my fingers around his shaft, earning a low moan from him. My lips curl into a smile as I pump my hand up and down his length, his pulse drumming beneath my fingertips.

"Hang on a second," Noah says between ragged breaths, his fingers wrapping around my wrist and stopping me.

"What is it?" I suck my lower lip between my teeth, chewing the soft flesh to calm the burning impatience inside me, wanting nothing more than to feel him again after weeks of abstinence.

"My desk, top left drawer."

I raise my eyebrows in confusion. "What's there?"

"Just go get it. Please." I sigh and climb off his lap, circle the coffee table and walk to his desk located in the middle of the room. Pulling open said drawer, my eyes widen at the sight of the object at the top of the papers. A pocket knife .

"No." I lift my head to look at him with a stern expression on my face.

"Please."

"No. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I need this, Dove, please."

"Need? Are you insane?"

He sighs and rises to his feet, stripping off his pants and walking across the room until he is standing behind me, his right hand sliding around me, resting on the table, while his left reaches into the drawer and pulls out the knife, snapping it open. "I want to control who hurts me." He says and grabs my hand, forcing the knife into my palm. "You just said that when I go through something, we face it together. And I need your help to get that control back." He leans down and whispers in my ear, his hips pressing into my back, his cock thrusting between my thighs and I let out a soft moan at the sensation of it rubbing against my cunt. My heart rate quickens as it drums against my chest. "I'll beg for it if that's what it takes." His lips brush against my ear, sending a cold shiver down my spine.

"No, that's not what I mea—" A shriek rips from my throat as Noah's hands land on my hips and he yanks me around, lifting me up onto the table and stepping between my legs so close that his hard cock presses against my soaking wet cunt. Only the sheer fabric of my lingerie keeps him from thrusting in.

"Do you want me to beg?" He asks in a hoarse voice.

I glance down at the knife in my hand, my palm sweaty around the handle. Part of me wants to protect him, to keep him from being hurt any more. But another part—the primal part of our relationship—is drawn to the idea of giving him what he needs, the one thing we have done countless times before but now feels like a bad idea. My gaze drifts back to him as he stares at me with pure determination, and I can't help the small smirk that tugs at the corner of my lips. "Be a good boy," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "And beg for it."

The corner of his lips twitches into a grin. "Please, baby," he says, wrapping his fingers around my wrist, holding the knife. "Threaten me." He leans in closer, resting his forehead against mine. "Hold the knife to my throat like you have so many times before." He guides my hand up between us. My eyes land on the blade touching one of the scars on his throat. "Show me that you're the only one worthy of hurting me."

My lips part in a silent gasp as his free hand slides down my thigh, between my legs. Two of his fingers brush my sensitive folds through the sticky material of my thong. "Come on, baby, please." He draws out each word in a raspy, pleading tone as he applies pressure to my clit, eliciting a moan from me.

I rock my hips forward, into his touch, chasing the pressure and he responds, rolling my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through every muscle in my body. My grip on the knife tightens, my wrist flexing in his hold, which he takes as a sign. Releasing my wrist, his left hand slams down on the table beside me. His right hand between my legs rips the fabric aside and within a second he is thrusting into me with a violent force that knocks the air out of my lungs as I scream.

My eyes fall shut as the unfamiliar yet familiar warmth of his cock stretching and filling me tears through my core. My free hand lands on his shoulder, digging my nails into it for extra support. When I open my eyes, my heart skips a beat as I find his stunning green eye staring back at me, its pupil dilated.

My mouth hangs open as he pulls his hips back and then thrusts forward again. The soft pace is short-lived though, with each roll of his hips his strokes become more violent, more desperate as he hammers into me, pulling a long series of high-pitched moans from me.

The dark room fills with our animalistic screams, our skin colliding in wet slaps, the soothing crackle of the fireplace, and the dangerous sound of his office desk feet scraping the floor in the sheer intensity of his pursuit.

Unable to hold myself up any longer, I collapse backwards, pulling the knife from his throat as I lie down on the cool surface of his office desk, soothing my heated skin. My cunt pulsates around the violent but so sweet thrusts as he drives into me. His hands then land on my thighs and he pulls my ass closer to the edge, lifting my legs and propping my feet on the edge of the table before catching my hand holding the knife and bringing it back to his throat. "Don't stop." He says through heavy gasps.

I nod and tense my muscles, holding the knife while my other hand flies over my head and grips the edge of the table, bracing myself for what is to come. His hands land on the table next to me as he picks up the pace again, driving into me with sheer force.

My jaw trembles as I try to keep my eyes open so as not to miss the beautiful view of him looming over me, illuminated by nothing but the warm light of flickering fire. I focus on the knife, the blade sinking deeper into his skin, droplets of blood pooling around the sharp edge. Sucking my lower lip between my teeth, I muffle my moans, concentrating on not slashing his throat. When I deem the cut deep enough, the blood already running down his chest in narrow lines, I flip it over and press the thick, dull end into the wound, offering him the pressure.

Keeping the intense eye contact, Noah lifts a hand, brings it to his throat, and scoops up some of his blood, coating his hand in the thick crimson liquid. His hand then lands on my abdomen and he draws a perfect red line up my torso before pushing aside the cups of the lace bra and cupping one of my tits in his palm, squeezing the soft flesh and rolling my hard nipple between his fingers, sending a jolt from my chest, through my belly, right to my cunt.

A painful groan escapes my throat as he pulls at my nipple, stretching the skin only to have it snap back. His hand then follows the bloody path back down and slides between us, resting on my pubic bone as his thumb finds my clit, circling the nub, lighting a spark of pleasure. I throw my head back against the table and let out a throaty moan as he rolls my clit in perfect circles while he continues his relentless chase.

The stretch of his cock, the rough skin of his thumb on my clit is enough to set off fireworks after weeks of starvation. My walls contract around him in waves as my orgasm builds, higher and higher until it crashes down on me in a thunderous wave. The muscles in my legs spasm and I sling them around his hips, pulling him deeper, forcing him to bury himself inside me until our hips are pressed flush together.

Looking up at him, I catch a glimpse of his tongue sticking out between his lips, drops of sweat running down his temples, as he concentrates on rolling his hips and holding back his own orgasm just a little longer. "Let go, baby," I whine.

His arms begin to tremble as his muscles spasm, his hips stutter and he lets out a deep groan, followed by the familiar warm sensation of his cock pulsing inside me and cum filling me, sending soothing warm waves through my body.

One of his hands wraps around my wrist and pulls the knife from his throat before he leans forward, pinning me to the table and crashing his lips against mine in a loving but passionate kiss. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and cling to him, my eyes falling shut as I respond to the kiss with similar passion. All I can focus on is him—his cock inside me, his breath hot against my skin, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling against mine with each ragged breath, matching my own. Warm droplets trickle onto my chest, his blood running down my collarbones to my neck, causing goosebumps to form on my skin.

I rock my hips back and forth into him, enjoying the friction until he is too soft and slips out of me. Then I break the kiss and meet his green eye staring back at me, blurry and unfocused as he gasps for air, revealing the physical strain the act has taken on him.

A smile spreads across my face as I run my hands up his back, over his neck and through the short, sweaty strands of his hair. "Let's go take care of your cut," I say in a calm voice, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

He places his hands beside my head and pushes himself up, a lazy smile decorating his flushed face as he nods.