Chapter Twenty-Five

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” He demands, touching my bare skin with his hands. “Your wish is my command, my bunny rabbit.” His teeth gently graze against the exposed skin of my neck, producing a moan from my lips.

“What are you doing to me?” I pant, pulling away from him just long enough to see his expression. “I want you to do everything to me.”

His eyes are darkened with desire, the flames from the fireplace dances across his profile in the dying light from outside. He looks ready to gobble me up entirely, and my words make him crush my lips back onto his, exploring my mouth like a diver in a cavern. He kisses me with such ferver that it seems like he want to explore all of me, staking his claim on every inch of my skin.

I gasp as he pushes me off of his lap, keeping a hand beneath my head as he lowers me onto the cusions of the couch, laying me on my back. With my torso exposed, I become suddenly aware of my scar. “Adrian,”

Adrian doesn’t seem to notice though, as he reaches to the waistline of my leggings, giving them an experimental tug. His eyes meet mine at his name, and he raises an eyebrow in question, pausing his attempts to remove my pants. “Yes, Lydia?”

I know that I should ask him to stop, but the breathless way that he pants my name, filled with longing, makes me clamp my mouth shut again. I want him just as much as he seems to want me. I don’t want to ruin this because of my insecurities that Adrian is oblivious to.

“Tell me if I should stop,” He says, beating me to it. HIs expression changes to something more concerned, though his lust is still very much evident. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I swallow, drinking him in. “Take of your shirt,”

He grins and does as he’s told, lifting the hem of his sweater to reveal his chiseled abdomen that ripples at the movement of removing the garment. After discarding it somewhere over his shoulder, Adrian gives me a moment to admire him as I come up with my next demand for him to fulfil.

I marvel at the tattoos that litter his arms, decorating his pigmented skin with blank ink. I reach to touch them, following the trail of the sleeve up his right arm, gently tracing the tribal pattern over his shoulder and onto his pectoral muscle. I’m surprised to feel texture as I pause over his chest, where the skin is puckered from a scar.

My breath hitches as I move my hand away, worried that it might have triggered something in his brain the way that mine does. His gaze remains unwavering though, as he watches me curiously.

“I have some too,” He says, grabbing my hand and gently pulling it back to his chest. His eyes glisten in the flickering firelight as he leans over me, unperturbed by my touch. “A scar means that you survived. You’re stronger than the thing that tired to kill you.”

I stare at him in awe, amazed that he could look at such a blight as something so beautiful. I feel tears well in my eyes suddenly as his words sink in, making a igger impact on my outlook than he could imagine. “You’re right,” I say at last, hoping that the thickness of my voice is misinterpreted as desire. “They’re beautiful.”

Adrian’s eyes soften as I accept his words, and he slowly lowers himself down, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. His fingers trace my skin, leaving a trail of fire as he moves from my throat between my breasts, pausing at the place where know my scar is. He presses his lips together tightly as he feels the puckered skin beneath his fingers, and his eyes begin to reflect something other than sexual impulse now.

He leans down to press a kiss to my scar, so gentle that it makes the tears in my eyes spill over the brim. He trails his lips across my skin, kissing upwards until he finds my lips again. His touch is suddenly so careful, as if he’s afraid he might break me. When he pulls back to look at me, his eyes flicker to the tear that escapes my eye. He reaches to swipe it away, expression instantly chancing to concern. “Lydia…”

I swallow around the lumo in my throat, swiping my eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” I say, voice coming out as a whisper.

Adrian slips a hand behind my head and lifts me into a sitting position, pulling my into his lap. He caresses my cheek and presses a kiss to my forehead, grip on me gentle yet firm. “Don’t be sorry,” He coos, voice soft in my ear. “We can take it slow, okay? I don’t ever want you to feel pressured into doing anything.”


I press myself into his solid chest, grateful that it’s so strong. I nod wordlessly in agreement, worried that my voice will crack if I try to speak. How can he be so kind? Things were going so well until I started to get emotional, but he didn’t hesistate to stop as soon as he noticed my hesitation.

Adrian continues to hold me for several minutes before pulling back, lifting my chin to make me look at him. “You’re the boss here, remember,” he says, eyes crinkling fondly as he looks at me. “I’ll listen to whatever you say.”

I gaze back at him, unsure of what to say. I finally stopped crying, but seeing how tenderly he looks back at me makes my throat close up again. “Why are you so nice to me?” I whisper, glancing away from his honest eyes.

He pulls me closer by my chin, stopping just short of my lips. “Because,” He says softly, eyes searching my face. “You’re mine.”

I lean forward to press my lips against his, kissing him slowly. I don’t want to forget how this feels. No one has made me feel so special like this before, and I don’t know yet if I deserve it. I open my mouth to speak, but the rumble of my stomach cuts me off, filling the space between us loudly.

Adrian’s dimple appears as he leans back to look at my face. “Let’s take a break and make some dinner,” He offers, making to stand up.

I hop off of him nervously, seeing that he intended to carry me into the kitchen. I’m not used to being carried yet, since the last time that it happened wasn’t out of consent. I avert my gaze as I look around for my shirt, hoping that Adrian doesn’t notice how awkward I am.

He quirks a brow at my reaction, but wordlessly retrieves my shirt from behind the couch. He watches me pull it over my head before saying, “I was hoping we could make this a topless dinner,”

The sarcasm in his tone makes me crack a smile, pushing off of the couch to join him. “You wish,” I say, pushing against his chest playfully. “You’re more than welcome though. I like looking at your tattoos.”

I take a seat at the island as Adrian flips the lights on and begins to rumage through the fridge. I thoroughly enjoy the way his muscles ripple as he moves around, and he looks over his shoulder at me as if he can feel my gaze.

He raises an eyebrow playfully. “Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

I look him up and down slowly, a smile creeping to my lips. “Yep,” I say, matter-or-factly.

He snickers and shakes his head at my insinuation. “Sausage isn’t on the menu tonight, unfortunately,” He jokes, turning back to the fridge. “But we can start with a salad while you decide.”

I watch as he pulls some kale and fancy lettuce from the bottom drawer and turns to place them in the sink to rinse them off. As he grabs the rest of the ingredients and begins to assemble them into two bowls, I unabashedly admire his naked torso as he rips and chops the vegetables. If only my father could know what he started when he cose Adrian to be my bodyguard. If he could have foreseen this, I know that he would have chosen a middle-aged guy who I’d have no interest in like he always has before. He must have really trusted Adrian to keep his hands to himself, though, which makes me think back to Adiran’s concerns about doing this in the first place.

I know it’s selfish, but I really don’t care about his reservations for my father’s feelings. My whole life my dad has wanted nothing but to see my happiness, so I think that he could get over this if it ends in my pleasure. If it ends badly though, then Adrian might run into a problem. I guess he’d better be careful then. He’s such a gentleman though, even when he’s horney, that I think he’s already come to that conclusion too.