Page 20 of Malachi
“Kiss me,” she reiterated, leaning forward until our bodies pressed as closely together as two bodies could. Her breasts flattened against me, her curves molding to my body, slick and warm.
Once more, I ignored her. I lathered up the soap into the loofah, the scent filling the space and intensifying from the steam. Bergamot and pine, a favorite of mine. I ran the loofah over her shoulders slowly, hoping to soothe her. I wanted her to have the care she needed, even if I couldn’t provide the intimacy she so obviously craved.
“Well, if you won’t kiss me, then I guess I’ll just have to kiss you,” she muttered with a slight shrug. I only had a moment to wonder at her words before she leaned forward, gently pressing a kiss to my chest. To say she had surprised me would be an understatement. I made every attempt to shake off my surprise and carry on as intended, but then she opened her mouth, her soft tongue flicking over my skin.
“Fuck,” I groaned, my hands stilling as I willed myself not to grab her and kiss her as soundly and as deeply as I desired to. My growl of pleasure only furthered to encourage her as she ran her kisses, and that sinful tongue over the skin of my chest, working lower over the first ridges of my abdomen.
“Christ,” I groaned, dropping the loofah and threading through her wet hair. I was holding on by a thread, a thin fucking thread. The little minx ran her teeth along my stomach with a groan of her own.
“Enough,” I growled, pulling her upright and finding her lips. I crushed her lips under my own, my hand moving around the side of her face, tucking behind both ears as I held her to me, kissing her with all the passion I felt. And fuck all, did I feel it.
She wrapped her hands up around my neck, clinging to me. My cock twitched with interest and arousal, but I was a man in my early thirties. Who was I kidding? Even if I were a man in my twenties, or even teens, I doubt if I could have gotten it back up that quickly. I had a refractory period, one I was silently cursing as our tongues intertwined.
I needed to gain control. I slowed our kiss, softening my touch as I smoothed her hair back. We parted the kiss, both of us breathing heavily, foreheads touching. Her hands trailed over the ridges of my abs, over to my sides, in the lightest of feather-like touches.
“What are you doing to me?” I whispered, my eyes clenched tightly closed. She didn’t answer, and I was thankful for her silence. My brain was too wracked with questions to handle any from her in that moment. I knelt down, retrieving the discarded loofah and resuming my earlier ministrations. Neither of us spoke as I slowly moved it over her, paying attention to every detail of her body. The body that I knew was so much younger than myself, and yet could not be described as anything but the body of a woman.
“My turn,” she whispered, taking the loofah from my grasp and bringing it to my chest. Just as slowly and twice as reverently, she bathed me. It was an intimacy unparalleled with any previous experience in my life. I fought against it with every ounce of strength I had. I did not want it. I did not want the soft touches, the gentle longing, or the earnest yearning that burned in her sapphire eyes. She was an enigma, this new wife of mine.
We finished bathing, stepping out of the steamed-over shower and drying each other slowly. The silence while we both prepared for bed felt natural, familiar. We laid in bed next to one another, the dark casting an eerie stillness over the moment as I turned out the light. That’s when the thoughts that plagued me came rushing back.
I had crossed a line tonight that I swore I would never cross. But was it one I could take back? Or was this decision bound to haunt me, coming back time and time again, unable to be resisted?
“Malachi?” Eden whispered beside me. We both lay there in the dark, our faces staring up at the ceiling in awkward silence.
“Yes?” I answered, trying not to sound annoyed. It wasn’t her. Not this time. It was only me and my foolish inability to control my darker impulses. I braced myself for the words I knew were bound to come; for her to tell me to never touch her again. I was ready for it.
“Thank you,” she whispered. I could hear the smile in her voice. To say it flabbergasted me would have been the understatement of the century.
“What?” I questioned, baffled by her words.
“Thank you,” she reiterated, giving me no clue as to what she meant.
“For what?” I asked, against my better judgment.
“For tonight,” she answered, turning on her side to face me. In the dark of the room, I could only make out the faint outline of her form, but I could feel her. The warmth of her body radiated towards me, urging me to turn to face her as well, to pull her close to me and take comfort in her closeness.
“You deserved care after… after what I did,” I said carefully, mindful of my words. Her hand touched my chest, making my breath hitch at the feel of her gentleness.
“I’m not talking about that part, Malachi,” she muttered softly.
“Then what —” I began, only to be stopped by her voice yet again.
“I’m talking about before, out in the woods.” My mind raced with what she could possibly mean. “Thank you for letting your guard down and being real with me.”
She couldn’t possibly mean it. She couldn’t. It was unfathomable.
“It’s all I want, you know,” she said quietly, her hand running over the skin of my chest. I could feel her touch burning against my skin, as though the blanket didn’t separate us.
“Enough for tonight, Eden. It’s late. We should get some sleep,” I grumbled out, forcing away the promise of her comforting touch and warm embrace.
“Oh, okay,” she answered, disappointment etched in her tone as clear as it could be. Great. First, I had pushed myself on her physically. Then I gave her an intimacy I couldn’t continue to give. Now I was thwarting her advances of open and honest communication. Stellar husband, Kai. Stellar fucking husband.
Her hand pulled away from me, her body turning to face the wall opposite me. Half of me wanted to go to her, to curl my body around hers in comfort and in peace, but that couldn’t be. I could not offer her that. Hell, I couldn’t offermyselfthat. Not now; not with everything about to go down in a blaze of glory. The entire purpose of our plan was to offer these women a better life away from Zion. I was not a part of that better life. I couldn’t be.
Morning came far too early, the sound of birds outside the bedroom window waking me long before my alarm was set to. Eden had turned around in her sleep, curling up against my body. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, dark with soft waves like the ripple of water.
I carefully pulled away from her; pulled away from the desire to curl into her warmth and enjoy the morning nestled in the arms of a woman for the first time in my entire life. It wasn’t something I did. Ever.
