Page 59 of Beautiful Scar

I’m fucked up for him, and right now, I want to feeleverything.

“Come on.” He pushes himself up from the couch.

“Where are we going?”

“Your bed. I’m not finished with you.”

I hesitate. He stands there, cock half-hard, thick and long. His muscles ripple with power, and those tattoos are both terrifying and strangely alluring. He’s all darkness and hate, violence and death, and yet he treats me like I’m special.

Like I’m everything to him.

I cover my breasts with my arms. Sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough. There he is, a glorious freaking god of a man, while I’m nothing. Medium boobs, a decent butt, nothing to write home about.

And yet when I get to my feet, he looks at me with pure, naked desire.

“How about this,” I say, skipping out of his reach. I snatch up my clothes and back away as he follows. “You tell me why you showed up here and started ripping through my rooms, and maybe I’ll let you touch me again.”

“I don’t make deals for sex,” he says, smirking as he comes toward me. I keep backing off toward my bedroom.

“Then I guess you’re done for the night.” I go right to the door separating our suites and open it with raised eyebrows. “Or are you going to play?”

His jaw clenches. I can tell he’s annoyed. He wants to do this on his terms, but I’m not above using what I have to get what I need.

Slowly, though, his expression eases as he comes toward me. I inch away, my heart racing. He leans into my face and brushes a thumb down my scar.

“I like when you stand up for yourself,” he says, then grabs my wrist. I gasp in shock. He moves so fast, and he’s so strong. He pins me against the wall, and my clothes drop from my hands. His body crushes mine, his cock hard now and pressed into my belly. “Something bad happened. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“You thought someone might be hiding under my bed?”

“I’m not taking chances with you.” He licks his lips, staring at me as he leans down to run his mouth along my scar. “Not with something precious.”

Oh my god. What is with this guy?

One second, he acts like he’s a heartless monster, and the next, he turns into some obsessed, protective bear.

“All right, you win,” I say, turning my mouth toward his, feeling desperate and greedy for more. “I guess you can stay.”

“I knew my little slut couldn’t help herself.”

Then he buries my mouth with his, and he’s right, I really can’t.

Chapter 17

Dasha

Maybe it’s all the lewd and embarrassing sex I had with Tigran the night before, but the next day I wake up feeling adventurous.

For me, that means I’m thinking about leaving my rooms for the first time in a few days.

I’m pleasantly sore and in a good mood when Vito brings up breakfast. Tigran’s gone, but I never expected him to stay. The bed was still warm from his body when I woke up, which means he was there until recently, at least. It’s strange having my husband sleeping in my bed, but it’s not like we’re spending a lot of time chatting.

Mostly, we’re passing out together after vigorous and very unladylike sex.

“Coffee and toast,” Vito announces, placing the tray down on the table. “You know, I can make other things if you’d like, my dear.”

“That’s okay. I like to start the day with something light.” I sip the coffee as the old butler waits near the door. Todayhe’s in slacks and a button-down shirt with dark brown loafers. “Actually, I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“Anything. That’s my job.”

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