Page 30 of Down the Aisle
A fucking queen.
My fucking queen.
Urging her with a gesture of my hand, I watched her with hawk-like eyes. "Well, dig in, let me know how I did." I mean, I knew I did well, but it has been a while since I took a crack at something besides sandwiches and breakfast in the kitchen. Well, at least it was almost like riding a bike.
Throwing a chuckle back at me, she scooted in closer to the table, picked up her fork, and took some of the creamy pasta goodness into her delicate little mouth. I felt bad for laughing, but she looked so cute with her cheeks all puffed out from takingtoo much into her mouth. I wanted to capture the moment, so I pulled my phone out and snapped a quick picture of her pouting chipmunk face, while Asher laughed beside her.
A playful but irritated protest left Eliza as she lurched out of her seat, swiping a hand at my phone. I easily evaded her attack while snickering in response. "Adamnth." Her muffled protest came out from behind her hand as she tried to remain mannered.
Growling softly, she stood there for a minute to chew and swallow her mouthful before snapping at me mirthfully, "Adam, delete that! I look stupid." If she had been seriously upset about it, then I would’ve, but nothing about her bright face and shimmering eyes indicated distress.
"You could never look stupid, little rose," I retorted smugly, smirking at her as I pocketed my phone. "Now, be a good girl, sit down, and eat while I feed Asher." I hadn’t planned for my voice to drop with that playful command, sounding like I was actually her Dom giving orders.
I half expected her to clam up and close herself off. But she surprised me with her compliant demeanor and two simple words. Simple words that did decidedly not simple things to my body.
"Yes, sir."
Chapter 11
Eliza
Run. Run. Run!
My lungs ached in my tightening chest with their struggle to fill out properly. Seeing the way his eyes darkened again with such desire and excitement spurred my body into a stress response momentarily. A part of me felt like he'd grab me any moment, rip my clothes off, and take me until he was satisfied.
I'd conditioned myself to take such looks as a bad thing because of James throughout the years. It didn't help that his creepy friends looked at me the same way and had bad intentions, ones they weren't shy about making known to me. Dark eyes equaled bad; that's how I'd always seen and taken it for so many years.
Every time anyone looked at me with such wanton eyes, it meant painful sex was to follow soon after. It wasn't necessarily rough sex or anything like that; it just always hurt me because I never wanted it. No matter how much I tried to get used to the assault, I never could. I couldn't even bring myself to fake it enough to be convincing, let alone fake it, until I made it.
So, it confused me a little when Adam remained rooted to his spot. He didn't budge a millimeter as he stared at me with his burning gaze, which set my own body ablaze with feelings I hadn't felt in so long. The way his lustful eyes bore into mine was almost adoring, which got my body purring with arousal.
When was the last time I'd desired someone? Thinking back now, I hadn't wanted James in years. When had my fire for fun fizzled out? When had it started? Had it started at the first strike of James's hand? The first time he disregarded my safe word? The first time I opened my eyes and saw him for the monster he was?
Should I even be wanting a man after all of that? It didn’t feel right for me to give myself to someone after all I’d been through. I broke away from James to find myself and make a life for myself and Asher. Would it be wrong for me to let another man in after suffering at the hands of so many? I don't know why, but the thought of letting Adam in felt like a defeat, as if I was throwing in the towel and turning back to a bad habit.
I didn't need a man—I knew that… But deep down, Iwanteda man. A man, not some immature male who calls himself a man, nor did I want some bastard who had a fragile masculinity complex (cough, James, cough). I desired a man who had his life put together, had a decent career to keep him sustained, had the emotional capacity beyond that of a teenager, and was overall a decent gentleman who knew how to treat a lady right.
Okay, it sounded like I wanted a Prince Charming, but that didn't hit the spot for me. Yes, I wanted all of it, kind of, butPrince Charming was nice, and I didn't want nice. At least not all the time.
As fucked up as it sounds and felt, I wanted a man who was a little rough around the edges, or at least a man who could give me a firm and guiding hand for my benefit. Not to say I wanted to be abused again or anything, but I guess one aspect I liked about James, before he turned from a loving husband into a nightmare, was how dominant he was.
However, as our relationship went on, the dynamic between us shifted. Of course, James never saw a problem with it, because he was the bully coming out on top. Too much chatter from everyone and his family eventually got to him, and he went on a whole power trip, which didn’t end until I was broken by his feet.
Well, guess that was another huge reason why I didn't want to engage in another relationship with anyone. Putting in time and effort to find that right fit was too much work and too tasking on my already fragile mental and emotional health. Also, what if I just ended up getting hurt again in the end? Having a relationship with power dynamics wasn't everyone's cup of tea, and I didn't want to dance around the whole self-discovery thing with a man who'd never looked at this lifestyle and community before. If my situation were different, I wouldn't have minded, but I wasn't up to putting the small pieces of my heart up on the chopping board again.
A sharp inhale from Adam pulled me out of my head, making me zone back in on him with cautious eyes and bated breaths.
Maybe this was the part where he'd snap.
I didn't mean to reply like the way I had; it kind of slipped naturally from my tongue when I heard the slight command in his deepened voice. I felt a little ashamed about how easily I turned over and showed my belly to him, but at least the regret hadn’t hit yet.
If I hadn't been so caught up in my own anxiety, then maybe I would've enjoyed the praise and want in his eyes. I'd been quiet and awkward for too long and ruined the mood and whatnot.
My body instinctively flinched in response to his hands coming at my face, and I couldn't help but offer him an apologetic look. His hardened gaze softened slightly in appeal as his hands slowed. Even though his eyes sparkled with adoration, there was an underlying flare of lust, which became more evident the closer his face grew. It was undeniable when he was a mere inch from me.
His forehead rested against mine, and my head remained still in his hands. The air around us grew hot and heavy as our drawn breaths mingled with each other. Our lips were a mere inch apart from what I could see through my half-closed eyes. I was afraid we might touch in a chaste kiss if my body twitched from how hard my heart drummed in my chest.
But we never did. Not once did our lips touch, not even when Adam's hand caused my head to tilt a little with a downward movement.
