Page 87 of Steel Rain

Until the storm came and broke her, at least. Leaving nothing but a wounded, blackened soul in it’s wake.

“This isn’t what I imagined for you,” Ajax said, standing in the doorway as I perused the dresses in the closet.

I wasn’t sure if any of them would fit. I was a very different girl back then, with smaller arms, and smaller … everything. The body I had carved for myself wasn’t slim or elegant. It wasn’t made for dresses. It was made for armor.

“I was a very different person then,” I said, running my fingers through the soft fabrics. Pink chiffons, and intricate white lace. “I was probably a better person before …”

“You’re perfect now.” His voice was low, and so close. He had silently walked from the door, and was now right behind me. I hadn’t even felt the warmth of his skin.

I should have been threatened that he could sneak up on me like that. But I wasn’t. If he appeared at my back again, and again, just as he had in the octagon, and a thousand other times since, then I’d be fine with it. I would like it, in fact. Because it meant I was safe.

“You should have seen me before,” I said, turning my fingers on an elegant, long, flowing white gown that shimmered in the sparse light. “I was thin, with long blond hair, that reached down to my back, and I wore nothing but long, pretty dresses and I could smile, and …”

“Isaid,” he enunciated as he stepped into my space. I felt the heat of his chest against my back as his hands came around my waist. “You’re perfect now.” He placed a kiss at the curve of my neck. “Kintsugi is the act of repairing old ceramics with lacquer and gold.” His fingers traced down my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “It leaves a gold line on the clay where it was cracked, making it more beautiful for having been broken.”

“Are you saying I’m more beautiful for being broken?”

“I’m saying you’re not broken at all.” His tongue drifted up my neck, to my ear where he sucked on the earlobe. Ileanedinto his touch. I was preening into it, wanting more, as my eyes closed. Then he stopped, his lips against my cheek as he said, “The girl, before, couldn’t have defeated Keith. The woman, now, could bury him alive. The child you were should be honored for creating the warrior that you are.”

He wrapped his hands over mine, our fingers intertwining as he held me in his embrace.

“I’ve married a warrior.” The words made my skin hum with delight. Marriage. Husband. Wife. Such words applied to me now. “It doesn’t matter what fabric she drapes on herself.”

“I know that we’re … we’re …”

“Married.”

“Yes, but I know you were forced into it. If you don’t want …”

“That’s enough of that,” he nipped at my skin. “There is no question that this is real. That I am faithful. That you are mine.”

I turned in his arms and threw my hands up to his cheeks, staring into his beautiful eyes.

“You’re sure? Because … I can give you a way out if …”

He kissed me. Deep, passionate. Hard.

So hard that he pushed me back until I slammed into the wall by the open closet door. He kissed me so hard, I lost my breath, and moaned against him. His lips were so soft, and thick, and warm. His hands were so strong as they pulled my hips towards his, and I felt his stiff cock from behind his trousers pushing against my stomach. Ajax was made of fire, and I wanted to burn in him.

“You are mine,” he growled, pulling me to him. He kissed me again, sucking my lower lip into his. “I don’t need a way out.”

“What about your gym? About training fighters? What about …” He kissed me again. I was starting to get the hang of this. I ask questions he doesn’t like, he kisses me to shut me up. It was a pretty effective technique.

He pulled away, and cupped my face in his large hands. “I can get new dreams. I can choose a different life.” Then his brows came together. “Or do you not want…?”

“No!” I placed my fingers over his lips. “I want.”

He was waltzing me. He was walking forward and I was responding by walking back, like we were in a tango. Or in the octagon, going through drills.

“You want?” He was teasing me now, his lips in a slight tilt.

I wasn’t sure what he was teasing me about. Not until the back of my legs hit the bed.

I looked over my shoulder to the pink comforter with white embroidered roses. I was so surprised that it was here. Surprised that no one had ever changed it. This room was a shrine to my old self.

“In a bed?” His voice hummed.

Was he asking my permission?

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