CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I was hot.

God, I was burning up from the inside as if a torch had been lit right in the core of my body.

I ached.

I hummed.

My clit had its own heartbeat that physically hurt with every step I took up the stairs, Thoran right behind me.

I felt like I would die if I didn't get him alone and inside me soon. It was taking every last piece of my self-control not to run, or worse, beg him to take me right there on the stairs.

I took him into my room and slammed the door with a bit more force than was necessary and backed into it with him against me.

My hands were on his belt, ripping and tugging at the leather. Fighting to free him as I trailed kisses across his jaw, cheek, and neck.

"Baby, your dress," he said, not pulling away, but not touching me.

"Buy me another one," I panted, tearing the button on his trousers. The circle of plastic pinged across the floor.

That seemed to be all he needed to hear.

I was slammed into the door. His mouth lay claim over mine as he fisted bloody hands into my dress. I reached to pull my panties down, but his hand was already there. The fabric was snapped off my body with a violent yank that cut and burned into my flesh.

"Thoran!" I moaned, so close to cumming I nearly did with the attack. "Hurry." I begged, desperate to have him inside me. "Please. I think I'm cumming."

No more incentive was needed. He had me up with my legs around his hips and his cock ... it drove into me with a single, blinding plunge that killed me, or close because my entire body exploded and imploded and died and lived all at once. My head collided back into the door with a crack I barely noticed as the world collapsed in a void of black. I came on him with such violent ferocity, he roared my name and sank his teeth into my neck. I felt a rush of liquid expel and drench him and me, and still he pounded into me over and over until I was clawing his shoulders, his hair, and cumming again. My thighs tightened around his hips as my body bowed, barely over the last orgasm.

"Fuck! Naya!" he snarled, sounding furious even as he yanked us away from the door and marched to the bed.

There was a lot of ripping fabric and hungry lips as we hit the mattress. He was inside me the entire time, driving and grabbing and kissing. He was wild and brutal, and I didn't want him to stop as he consumed me until there was nothing but our ragged breathing. Sweat cooled on our skin. A new and unfamiliar heat, a combination of him and me trickled out of my body, and I realized we'd forgotten the condom.

"Shit," he gasped into the curve of my shoulder. He raised his head, sweat glistening at his temples as he peered into my face. "Did I hurt you?"

Deliriously sated and content, I shook my head.

He groaned and dropped his head to my naked chest where he'd shredded the front of my dress just enough to get my breasts. His top was no better where I'd torn the buttons and apparently part of his sleeve. It hung half on and half off his straining arms.

My dress was stained with blood and sweat. It smeared my arms and across my chest, and his. We were a mess, and I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up.

Thoran followed my gaze, and he started laughing too until we were both heaving at the hilarity of the situation.

"Christ," he breathed several minutes later as we calmed enough to speak actual words. "That wasn't at all how I expected the night to start, but you should have let me clean that fucker's blood off first. I hate that he's on you."

"But you're in me," I somehow found the guts to murmur.

Thoran's head lifted, and our gazes locked for a heartbeat before my words seemed to register. His chest heaved at the realization. His chin lowered, following the line of my body to where I was still a tender, wet mess. Something on his face shifted, becoming dark and feral as he descended. My skirt was torn under hurried, reckless hands. My thighs were roughly forced apart. The knees were thrust up to my chest.

Then he was staring at me and him coming out of me in a thick, white trickle. A sound escaped him that made me think of a wolf.

"Thoran," I gasped.

But he'd already dived between them. His tongue sweeping and lapping like a wild, starving animal getting food for the first time. He nipped and sucked like he was afraid someone might try and take it away from him.

"Thoran ... Thoran, oh God...!" I choked. "Slow ... slow..."

His tongue plunged into me and scraped across my walls, scooping our combined releases.

His fingers followed, plunging, and thrusting, and tearing my world apart as I begged him not to stop, but he did. He took me to the edge and pulled away.

"No, please..." I begged.

His response was to fill me with his semi hard cock. His face shiny with saliva and us came up over mine and before I knew what he was doing, he kissed me. His tongue delved into my mouth, thrusting to match his hips. Me and him flooded my mouth. Our taste pooled in my belly, and I groaned. I sobbed. I gripped his head and rolled my hips and ate him as he slammed in harder and harder. My tongue pushed into the hot cave of his mouth, and I took back everything he'd taken out of my body and swallowed it while he watched. Both our eyes open and boring into the other.

"Harder," I rasped with my teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He growled deep in his throat and complied. Our lips never parted. Not even when we both came.

"I want it," he said later as we stood beneath the spray of my shower. His chest was a hard coil of muscle and heat resting against my back. His arms anchored my waist. Hands splayed across my flat belly.

I tipped my head back against his shoulder. "Hm?"

He kissed my nose, my eyelids one at a time and finally sipped the water from my lips. "If you get pregnant from earlier, I want the baby." His thumb traced circles around my belly button. "I want to wait. I still do if it turns out you're not, but if you are..." he kissed me again, a little harder. "I want you to be."

I shivered and he tightened his hold. A warmth spread over me and through me. It had been happening a lot and only when I was with Thoran. He made everything feel so safe, so unimaginably happy. I'd never been so empty of all the dark things in my head. I was almost scared I wasn't worried about something. Like I was foolishly forgetting something and it would jump out and attack me if I didn't remember.

"Blue?"

I raised my attention to him once more. "Yeah?"

Rather than answer, he snapped off the shower and moved to grab a towel. He shook it out and swung it around my shoulders. His large hands rubbed my arms and back. He used the corner to pat my cheeks and neck. Drying me with the gentleness of someone caring for something precious and fragile.

"Are you hungry?"

I was. I was starving.

"Yes."

He helped me from the tub and reached for a second towel.

I watched him scrub roughly at his own arms and shoulders. The harshness of it made me wince. His lack of care for himself had me taking the cloth from his fingers and running it tenderly along his jaw and down his neck. He watched me quietly as I gathered the moisture off his beautiful skin.

"Gentle," I told him. "I won't have you hurting yourself."

His scowl would have scared me several weeks ago, but only tugged the corner of my lips upwards. "It's fine."

I shook my head. "You're banned from drying yourself. I'll have to do it for you from now on until you can be trusted."

His frown deepened only to be contradicted by the glimmer of laughter in his eyes. "Barely married an hour and you're already telling me to what to do."

I leaned up on my toes and kissed his chin. "Are you saying you wouldn't like me drying you?"

His arms closed around my middle, and I was squeezed into him. "You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart. I won't deny you anything."

"Anything?" I coaxed.

His thumb and index finger seized my chin. "Name it."

What could I possibly ask for when he'd already given me everything I'd ever wanted?

"Food," I said finally.

It was a struggle voicing the request, but not as it once used to be. Mother's voice was still there, still hissing that I was a pig for making such a bold declaration, but I knew Thoran would never judge me for eating.

He proved my assumption correct when he grinned and kissed me. "Done."

We drew apart and he let me dry him. Let me run the towel across all that beautiful flesh that belonged to me. It was probably ridiculous how giddy and possessive I felt of this man, but I didn't care. He was mine.

"You look frighteningly too pleased with yourself, wife," he teased, capturing a lock of my hair and twisting it around his finger. "What has that look on your face?"

I blinked with what I hoped was believable innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He gave a gentle tug on the strand before reaching for the towel. My gaze landed on the shredded skin across his knuckles that were practically peeled back. The area was raw and tattered. I'd noticed the state of them a few days before the morning of our trip to the village, but they hadn't been this bad. Now, he definitely needed medical attention.

I took his right hand and lightly grazed the tender area with my thumb.

"We need to get a doctor or put some cream on your hands and wrap them," I said.

"They're fine." I wanted to protest, but he pulled me to him using the hand I'd been holding. "I can't have my hands wrapped."

I raised my eyes to his. "Why not? They could get infected."

Gently, he turned my hand over to trace the gashes from the teacup still lining my palm.

"Do they hurt?"

I recognized his attempt to change the topic, but still I shook my head. He kissed the cuts one at a time. First one hand than the other. His breath warm against my skin.

"I wanted to kill her for hurting you," he said softly. "I still do. I still might," he decided.

"She's not important and she didn't hurt me. She..." I tried to think what that feeling had been. "She enraged me for saying the things she was saying."

"What did she say?"

I immediately shook my head. "It's my wedding night. I'm not going to think about her."

Thoran smiled. "You're right. It is. My apologies." He kissed my knuckles. "Let me make it up to you."

Intrigued, I let him lead me from the bathroom, across the bedroom to the door. He paused to glance into the hallway before taking me up into his arms and walking to his room.

"Are you going to carry me across every threshold?" I teased.

"It's supposed to be lucky and I'm not taking any chances."

I laughed and nuzzled his neck, thinking I'd already gotten lucky. So lucky. I felt high and delirious and so lucky I wanted to laugh and cry and scream and dance.

I tightened my arms around the man I was certain without a shred of hesitance I would die without, brimming with a million things I was aching to say, but terrified to.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart," he murmured.

I did without hesitation. My face stayed pressed into his warm skin. His rich scent. I kissed the spot and felt his arms tighten.

I heard his door open and the creak of floorboards under the weight as he stepped through. The familiar scent of him, of leather and pine welcomed us, but there was something hot and spicy, and delicious too. Something that made my mouth water and my stomach rumble ... loudly.

"My poor baby," he whispered into my cheek. "Just a minute longer."

I was set gently down onto my feet and told not to move. He left me there. Without his warmth, the room was cold against my damp flesh. I shivered and squeezed my arms around myself.

Something thick and fluffy settled on my shoulders and pulled around my body. My arms were guided through sleeves, and I was liberated from the towel as the robe was fastened at my waist.

"Okay," Thoran said as he took me gently by the arms and faced me in the direction of something golden washing behind my closed eyelids. "Open."

Hundreds of swaying lights splintered before I blinked a few times to focus.

Dozens of long, white candles lined every inch of space, illuminating the room I loved so much into a halo of warmth. It washed across the glass and spilled over the bed with fresh sheets that held the hint of lilacs. By the window, a small, round table had been erected draped in white cloth. Two plates of pasta steamed across from each other, filling the room with the scent of cream, garlic, and chicken. My mouth nearly started watering.

"This is so beautiful."

Wordlessly, he led me over and drew out one of the iron chairs and tucked me beneath the table. He took his place across from me. Like me, he too was wearing a soft, white robe. Mine must have belonged to him because it went to my ankles and over my hands. And it held his scent.

"Eat," he said, though not necessary; I was half ready to face plant into my plate.

But I did my best to take small bites and not moan too loudly. After the fourth forkful, I finally felt human enough to speak.

"When did you do all this?" I asked.

He swallowed his own forkful before answering around a smirk, "While you were ripping my pants open."

Heat warmed beneath my cheeks, but I chuckled. "If you're not careful, you'll never beat this at the real wedding," I teased.

Eyes warmed by firelight, Thoran met my smile with his. "We'll see."

We ate in silence broken occasionally by the clink of silverware on ceramic.

Thoran rose once we were both finished and pulled me to my feet.

"Dance with me," he murmured into my ear, and I didn't point out there was no music. Any excuse to be in his arms was good enough for me.

We swayed, but barely. My arms were around his neck. His at my waist. And we kissed. Slow, wandering pecks across each other's faces, lips, neck. Anywhere we could reach. There was nothing sexual about it, yet it felt infinitely more intimate than anything we'd done so far.

"Naya?" His lips traced the line of my jaw.

"Hm?"

"I want to ask you something."

I drew my head back to peer up at him. "Yeah?"

His fingers smoothed my cheek. "Why do you love windows so much?"

I blinked. No one had ever asked me that. Granted, no one had ever noticed or cared. I almost didn't have an answer that didn't sound ridiculous.

"I've lived my whole life looking through them," I murmured, not sure how else to explain it. "Bedroom window. Car windows. Hotel windows. They always held all the things I wished I could get closer to. My bedroom had a bench built into the window and I'd sit there for hours and watch the world outside."

His jaw hardened to match the tension I could feel rippling along his arms. "Do you have parents, sweetheart?"

I nodded but said nothing else.

"And siblings?"

Again, I nodded.

It was too late to hide from him. He knew my name. He could easily look me up. But I still couldn't bring myself to tell him about the life I was terrified of going back to.

"A brother? Sister?"

"Brother," I whispered.

"Do you miss them?"

I hesitated because I didn't miss my parents. I didn't miss Mother with her cruelty or Father with his abandonment. They had both sold me to Jarrett. They had allowed him to tear me apart for years. To torture me as badly as they had.

"I miss my brother," I murmured instead.

I hadn't realized I was staring at the hollow of his throat until he caught my chin and tilted my gaze to his. "Call him."

The thought of calling Malcolm sent electric currents of excitement zapping through me, but what if Mother picked up? What if she found out where I was and told Jarrett? Malcolm had made me swear never to contact him. I'd already broken so many of the rules, and while I knew I didn't have much longer before it all came crashing down around me, I wanted every second I was allowed.

"I'm okay," I murmured.

"Naya," he whispered, not exactly with disappointment, but a sadness that only made me feel hollow at the core of my soul.

I bit my lip, wishing he would stop. I'd been so happy moments ago and now I just wanted to cry.

"Please stop," I begged practically under my breath.

He pulled me into his chest and held my face to his heart with a hand against the back of my head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have pushed."

I closed my eyes and breathed him in, letting his scent sooth me the way only he could.

"I do have one more question," he whispered into the shell of my ear.

I didn't open my eyes. "Thoran," I pleaded, needing him not to ask anything else.

"Please. It'll keep me up all night if I don't."

I sighed and lifted my head, dread pulling the corner of my lip between my teeth.

He searched my eyes and kissed my nose before asking, "What got you so hot earlier?"

His teasing sent fingers of fire beneath my skin, and I tried to turn away so he wouldn't see. My attempts only got me thrown over his shoulder and carted like a potato sack to the bed where I was dumped down on the mattress.

"Thoran!" I laughed as he came down over me.

"You're not leaving until you tell me because the way you came on my cock, sweetheart, your pussy squirting all over me..." he growled at the back of his throat. The guttural sound vibrated against my ear, scattered across my tingling skin. "I'm getting hard just thinking about it."

I could feel his erection rubbing into my hip. Getting harder and thicker with every whisper. His hand slipped into the front of my robe and cupped my bare breast. The nipples shriveled beneath his skimming thumb.

"Thoran..." I whined, hips wiggling to feel his weight pressing them apart.

"Tell me what had your pussy so soaking wet you could hardly wait to get me alone?" he taunted, pinching my nipple, and tugging until I cried out.

His hand slipped away and journeyed down to tug on the sash keeping my robe closed. It came undone too easily and I was bared to his wandering hand.

"You didn't even care I was drenched in another man's blood, Naya." His fingertips drifted down the center of my chest, across my trembling belly to my mound. "I want to know why."

I curled my fingers into the sheets beneath me to keep from grabbing his hand and pulling it the rest of the way between my thighs.

"Tell me," he coaxed, slipping just the tip of one finger between my lips to nudge my clit. "Tell me and I'll let you cum." He grazed me again and I whined and bit my lip. "Don't you want to cum, Blue? You do it so fucking beautifully."

His dark head bent, and he sucked on the nipple closest to him. His fingers spread my lips, leaving my clit exposed and vulnerable to the chill in the room. The pink nub looked so wet and swollen in the candlelight. So helpless between his long digits.

"Maybe I'll eat her first," he taunted, giving me the tiniest little brush with the tip of his index finger. "I can fuck her with my tongue and fingers until you're begging."

I tried to shake my head partially because I'd forgotten the question, but also silently pleading with him not to tease.

"Playing hard to get, huh? Well, I have ways of making naughty girls talk."

"You," I breathed an hour later, exhausted, sweaty, and deliciously sore as I nestled into Thoran's chest. My face against his throat.

His long fingers stilled in their gentle stroking of my hair. "Hm?"

His voice was as thick and drowsy as I felt, but I drew in a deep breath and repeated, "You turn me on. Just you.