Page 94 of Inked Desires
He straightens and steps away. His men release me.
I could move. Run. Get up. But my body won’t obey. I lie there, broken, staring blankly ahead, unable to do anything but breathe.
Caresses. A gentle warmth on my hands.
I blink, slowly returning to the present. Arès is crouched in front of me, holding my hands in his. His thumbs trace soft circles over my skin—soothing, grounding.
"Hey. Welcome back," he whispers.
I swallow hard, his words not enough to dispel the weight of the past. I try to steady my breathing, to come back to myself, but the anxiety still grips my chest like a vice.
"What did you see?"
The question hits me like a fist. My throat tightens. My eyes sting. I refuse to cry, but the pain pulses in my bones, vivid and relentless. A shaky breath escapes my lips. I don’t want to fall apart. Not yet.
"I don’t want to get a tattoo," I murmur, voice cracking.
I try to swallow down the tide of emotion, but he sees through it. Too easily. Too clearly.
"Talk to me," he urges, calm and patient.
I close my eyes. My head tilts back slightly. My therapist always said speaking was the only path to healing. But the words stay stuck behind my teeth.
"I’m here," he breathes.
I open my eyes again, anchored by his presence. Had I already told him, before the memory loss? Did he know the whole story?
"A man kissed my neck during an event. I didn’t want it. Jace saw..."
The memories slam into me like a blade of ice.
"Two men pinned me down. He tattooed me... like he was carving me up with a knife."
My voice sounds hollow, detached, but the tremor in my hands betrays me.
Arès lets go of my fingers and cradles my face in his palms. His touch is rough, but grounding. Instinctively, I nuzzle his hand. He’s warm. Solid. Here.
"What he did to you... that wasn’t a tattoo. It was pure cruelty," he says, voice raw.
The dam breaks. My tears fall in silence, landing on his hands. Arès leans closer, until his forehead rests gently against mine.
"I’ll never let him hurt you again."
The promise hums between us, as steady and undeniable as his presence. He’s not leaving. He’s staying.
A shiver runs through me. I clutch his shoulders, drawn to him, then press forward. My lips find his.
And everything explodes.
The world fades. There’s only him—his breath against my skin, his warmth against my body. I want more. More of him. More of this feeling that drowns out the shadows.
Arès responds with equal hunger. Our kisses turn feverish, desperate. Our tongues tangle. Teeth clash. I lose myself in him, in the electricity that sparks with every touch.
I’m floating.
His hands slide down my back, igniting every nerve. When he brushes my chest, a moan slips out. My whole body hums under his touch. My nipples harden beneath the fabric, aching for him—but he ignores them, drawing out the anticipation.
Then suddenly, he pulls away.
