Chapter 24: Beautiful Scar: Chapter 24

I puke my damn guts up yet again.

“This is starting to be annoying,” I groan to myself, spitting into the water. Once it’s done, I feel a lot better. At least Tigran wasn’t around this time—he got up early to work out in the basement gym.

After I’m done with a shower, I find my handsome and sweaty husband getting changed. I give him a kiss and sniff him. “Musky,” I comment, patting his muscular bicep. “Very ripe.”

“That was weird,” he says, frowning, then dramatically sniffs me. “Lemony. Toothpasty.” He sniffs more, tackling me to the bed. I laugh, squirming as he keeps sniffing and kissing me. “Rosy. Peachy. Delicious.”

“Okay, okay, that was weird, I get it!” He grins at me, his handsome face hanging inches above mine. I touch him lightly with my fingertips. “Let’s have breakfast out back together. And then maybe we can go for a walk around the harbor?”

He pulls back slightly. “Really?”

“It’s a nice day out, right? Seems like a shame to waste it inside.”

He seems totally stunned. I’m trying not to smile, aware of the irony.

“What did you do with my reclusive wife?” he murmurs, kissing my neck.

I wriggle into him. “Careful or else we’re never going to leave this room, let alone enjoy the sunshine.”

“Sometimes I prefer the darkness.”

“You’re just trying to do filthy things to your poor, innocent wife.”

“Goddamn right I am.”

“Too bad.” I pat his muscular ass. This man is built like a freight train. “Go prepare my breakfast, please, and thank you.”

He sighs, rolls off me, and throws his sweaty shirt at my face before heading out.

I hold the shirt up to my face and breathe it in deeply. The smell makes my core clench. “Yep, I’m a weirdo,” I mutter to myself.

He holds my hand tightly as we stroll along the walking paths. Down below in the harbor, the water glitters in the sunlight. Boats bob slowly, moving with the gentle windblown waves. There are many other people around: joggers, young couples, old men playing chess, and a few buskers singing and playing instruments.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tugging me closer. I like that he keeps checking every once in a while, just to make sure.

“I’m fine.” Even though I’m not. I mean, not totally at least. It’s a beautiful day, and I’m really happy I’m doing this, but oh my god, my anxiety is going crazy.

I don’t remember the last time I did something like this. It’s so normal, just taking a walk around the park, but to me, it’s like diving headfirst into a pool filled with sharks. I spent twelve years of my life avoiding going out in public. Even an idyllic afternoon stroll is pushing my limits.

It would be even worse if it weren’t for the guards Tigran posted all over the place.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” he says, smiling into the distance. I can tell he’s trying hard not to make this a big deal. But he’s right—it kind of is huge.

“Thanks, I’m proud of myself too. You know, for finally entering the sunshine. I’m half surprised I didn’t explode into a shower of ash like a vampire.”

He squints at me, frowning. “You are looking a bit pale.”

“Stop, asshole.”

“Are you sure you’re not hungering for the blood of the innocent?”

“If that were true, I’d go looking for it somewhere else. Lord knows nobody’s innocent when you’re around.”

He tugs me tighter against him. “That’s right, and you enjoy every second of my sinful ways.”

“You’re a corrupting influence.”

“And you’re a prim little bad girl who needs to be taught a lesson.” His smirk is devilish and teasing as he leans down to kiss me.

“Easy,” I warn, my heart beating wildly. But I love it when he talks to me that way. It actually makes me feel bold, and I find myself scanning the area until I spot a stand of trees and bushes at the edge of the park, away from most of the other people. “I have an idea.”

He follows, slightly bemused, as I hurry over toward the relative privacy. There are still people around—an old man is reading the paper on the other side of the walking path—but we’re out of their sight line as soon as I slip through the tall, wild bushes. There are empty beer bottles and other random litter on the mulchy ground. Clearly, this is a popular spot with teens and others looking for somewhere hidden. I turn to him, mouth open, and throw myself toward his lips.

Mint and grass and sunshine fill my mouth. His hand grips my hair, and he overwhelms me with a starving kiss. I moan and writhe into him, my heart racing wildly. I’m terrified and freaking out, but I’m also turned on and mindlessly aching. I can’t help myself—I take his other hand and guide it to my jeans.

“Pisik,” he murmurs, giving me that delicious, knowing smirk. “You realize someone might see?”

“I don’t care,” I say, breathing hard. “I want it.” And I realize I’ve never done anything remotely like this before. It’s so far outside my comfort zone that I’m on the edge of a panic attack. The only thing keeping me grounded is Tigran, and I don’t want to stop now that I’ve started.

If I can cross this line, what else am I capable of?

He chuckles as he flicks open the button of my jeans and slips a hand down over my panties.

I whimper as he strokes my pussy, slowly at first and backs me into the trunk of a tree.

“Hurry,” I whisper while he kisses my neck. He flips my panties aside, fingers stroking up and down my slit.

“You’re soaked, baby,” he murmurs, clearly enjoying this. “My god, you really are a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Please, just hurry, I need it,” I say, begging him, my heart pounding in my ears. I look around, mortified and needy, but nobody’s looking.

At least, I don’t think they are.

His fingers plunge into me. I gasp, arching my back. He slides them back up to tease my clit, then he pushes them back inside, again and again, in and out, slicking me up and getting me soaked. I grind into his palm, panting hard, and bite his lip when he kisses me.

“You filthy fucking girl,” he whispers, going faster. “Look at you, you’re outside, and suddenly all you want is to ride my fingers in public. Someone’s going to see, and they’ll know that you really are a dirty fucking girl and you always have been. You pretend like you’re so good, but we both know the truth. When you’re with me, you’re my dirty fucking slut. Now beg me for it, baby.”

“Tigran, please, don’t stop,” I gasp, my back arching. “I need it, baby, please, I need it.” The fear, the danger, the pleasure—it’s all hitting me hard. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but it’s like something’s shattering in my chest. He’s breaking it, destroying the barriers, the armor, the layers, all the shit I’ve piled around me, all the little mannerisms and beliefs I’ve used to hide myself away all these years. He’s wrecking them with a hammer, and I love him for it.

“That’s right, baby, come for me,” he murmurs in my ear as his fingers plunge in deep and his palm grinds against my clit. “When you’re done, I’ll make you suck them clean, you dirty fucking girl, and then you’ll walk around the rest of this park with filthy and ruined panties like a good little slut.”

Oh, fuck. That does it. My back arches as I shatter on his hand, coming hard, coming like the flood that will finally wash me away and leave me someone new. Leave me shivering, but not alone. Because I have him.

“Tigran,” I moan, twitching and out of control. He doesn’t stop until I regain some of my senses, and true to his word, he flips his hand from between my legs and buries his fingers in my mouth.

I lick them clean.

“Good girl,” he praises, his expression filled with longing and devotion.

We emerge from the trees holding hands. I’m feeling weak and dizzy, and he’s beaming like a dark prince. The old man reading his paper frowns at us, and I wonder if he heard any of that.

Probably. I wasn’t quiet.

Tigran talks about normal things—about what we’ll have for dinner, about visiting Roman and Lena and Arsen again, about taking me back to our room and fucking me senseless. Poor man is probably hard as hell and aching for release.

Which I’ll happily, greedily give him.

But as we turn to walk toward the car, Alexan appears jogging toward us on the path. His face is grim, and Tigran instantly steps closer to me, one arm wrapped protectively across my shoulders, on high alert for threats.

“What’s going on?” Tigran barks.

“We’re safe, don’t worry,” Alexan says, slowing his approach. “But we found him, and I thought you’d want to know right away.”

Tigran tenses. I feel him looking at me. He’s not happy, but this must be important. I gently touch his arm. “Go ahead,” I say, nudging him. “It’s okay. Go talk.”

He grunts but doesn’t let me go. “Say it in front of my wife.”

Alexan hesitates, glancing at me, and only shrugs. “We found Oisin McGrath.”

Tigran doesn’t move. I feel my heart in my throat. That must be the other twin—and that means more danger, more killing, more blood and shuddering.

That means my husband is going to do something reckless.

“Then we’ll kill him tonight,” Tigran says, a vicious gleam in his eyes, and I feel a new fear slip over me.

The terror of losing someone who matters.