1St in #possesive
1ST in #abuse
1ST in #arrangedmarriage
1ST in #hatelove
1ST in #rich
1ST in #tortured
The next thing she knew was that she was slung on his muscular shoulder. She thrashed her legs, but he carried her as if she weighed no more th...
It was already an hour past mid day. Rosette had cooked a feisty lunch for her in laws before she had went to take a shower.
Caelum had been sitting on the sofa reading a book for show. His eyes were fixed on her. The way her hands kneaded the spaghetti dough, the way she pushed her stray strands of hair behind her ear. He sat there and observed. He hadn't felt this in a while.
When he saw her barefoot and sweaty in the kitchen, he couldn't help but think, 'is this what home feels like?'
Standing below the stream of water, Rosette saw all the brown and peach paint flow away into the water drain. She looked at her thighs and arms. They were everywhere, the scars. They were ugly and pathetic.
She brushed herself clean and stepped out of the shower. She covered all the scars on her skinny, little body, and wore a white long mesh dress. It had thin straps and it looked like a fine after-marriage-dress.
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Rose got out of the washroom to find Caelum in the same room.
That wasn't all, he was bare bodied! He was changing! he only wore a white shirt which was all unbuttoned.
Rose stared at his manhood. Her eyes wide with shock and awe. She studied the length of the meat and gulped. He was just...... huge, she took the liberty to imagine what it would feel to have it inside her.
She slowly raised her eyes and met his face. He looked at her lusciously, his eyes darkened and he started walking towards her.
She flinched and looked at him getting harder with every step he took.
She had no idea about the fire she had fueled. She wished she could run out of the room and slam the door shut behind her. But she couldn't. She was planted to the spot. Caelum closed the gap between then and slid a hand on the slender waist.
"I didn't mean to-," Rose started but Caelum cut her off.
"Sh-shh, You'll ruin the whole thing.." he buried his nose in her hair, taking in the sweet scent of her lavender hair-wash.
He stroked his hardness on her belly, escorting a small moan from her lips. Embarrassed by her reaction, She bit them close. Caelum smiled to himself and traced his tongue on her neck coming down to the sharp edge of her collar bone. He could hear her heart beat getting loader and breathing turn into close panting.
"I-I am not-," her voice stumbling over the mountain of sensation as he sucked on the hollow between her collar bones, "ready f-f-for this yet-t."
"Refusing me my little bird?" he asked almost cuming at the bare thought of being inside her. With her against his body he just couldn't control himself. All the promises he had made to himself, to burn this girl's worlds to ash, had vanished. Instead she brought his world crashing down to her feet.
No one knew what agony he was in just by seeing her perfect curves swing about in the kitchen. How his muscle had roared to be calmed.
"Can I-I?" she asked softly, as if afraid that the fire she had fueled would burn her entire forest.
Caelum knew she was scared, and after what had happened at breakfast he had decided to maintain a distance until she was comfortable but when she came from the bathroom with her wet hair and perfect curves, he felt terrified of what he might do to her.
And when her eyes smoldered his erection, he couldn't hold back. The sweet scent of her vanilla and cinnamon body lotion was a magnet for his legs.
"P-lease." She said in soft voice that broke into two.
If it were someone else, this 'please' would have been a begging, a begging for him to come closer, but in her case, he could feel her thin body shaking.
Fuck! He cursed himself, I did it again, I fucking scared her. AGAIN!
He took a step back. And looked at her. His hands still entangled in her long wet hair.
Her hazel eyes were clear but he could sense that any moment those empty honey goblets would fill with water.
He stumbled back and grabbed a towel. He had come so close to becoming like that man, the same man he had detested his whole life. He was afraid, he was so afraid of doing something so terrible that he would hate his own reflection. He ran a hand in his tousled hair and changed quickly.
Rosette was still, so still that someone could mistake her for a lifelike sculpture.
She had seen the anger in his eyes. Was he angry? Did she do something to annoy him? Would he punish her?
