Page 102 of Tormented & Tulips

The full weight of how much this manuscript means to her hits me. Patience is not one to hide her emotions. Trouble processing them? Definitely. But she never deliberately hides them. I take another step back to let her have some space, but she catches my forearm. Her glassy eyes look back at me, and my heart catapults.

“Don’t you want to know why?” Her broken whisper of a voice has me reaching forward and brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

“You have scars from this world. Someday, if I’m incredibly lucky, you’ll share their stories with me. Until then, I’ll be right here, earning that trust and loving every minute of it.”

She looks at her feet. An adorable tick of hers when she feels too vulnerable. Hooking my finger under her chin, I raise it to peer into her eyes. If I could, I would lay myself at her feet telling her every thought that crosses my mind revolves around her. Every image of the future has her in it. A tear rolls from her eye and begins to travel down her cheek. Leaning forward, I capture it with a kiss and run my hand through her hair. I step back and let her have a moment with the manuscript. A silent minute goes by before she breaks it with a sniffle.

“My father wrote this,” she says as she turns to me. “He brought all three of us back from the war. I don’t remember my parents well. I remember a cabin and being told to run into the forest when the soldiers came…”

She sighs and looks at the manuscript. “I just ran and ran. Until I met a man and his wife. They were hiding from the soldiers as well. I thought, well…I thought they could help me. Which they did for a time.” She pauses, and I remain silent, absorbing every second of her willingness to share a glimpse of her life with me.

“One night, when I was sleeping, a man entered the room…and…”

My blood boils. I don’t need her words to know what happened next. Not wanting to let my emotions dissuade her from telling me more, I will my body to remain stoic, even though it thrums with rage for what she endured.

“It wasn’t long after that, I was taken to another man and another. Until, finally, I was taken into a warehouse of cages. Our father released us and just took us all in. When he retired, he started writing stories…like this one.” She runs her fingers across the glass.

The tightness in my chest makes speaking impossible. I can’t imagine enduring that and still being able to survive. I always recognized that Patience was strong. It never occurred to me that she’d been forced to strengthen herself.

I pull her in for a kiss. Hopefully, my thoughts and desires will be contained in the connection. She pulls back and grabs my hand, moving toward the small alcove.

“The mirror…”

I come over to stand behind her. Our eyes meet. As I snake my fingers around her waist, goosebumps erupt across her body.

I brush my nose along her neck and inhale the sweet scent of her. The scent’s so delicious, I drag my tongue along her neck, savoring the slightly salty taste of her. Her breath hitches, and I work my fingers across the rolling valleys of her ribs. Her soft skin is a stark contrast to my rough touch. I work my way down her stomach, gliding gently under the band of her shorts. Her breath hitches again. The heat and sweat gather along her collarbone.

“Mm-hmm, you like that, don’t you?”

She nods. But it’s not enough. I want to hear every floating thought in her gorgeous mind.

Using my free hand, I curl my fingers around her throat and bring her head back. “Do you…like that?”

“Yes.”

I bring my lips to hers. My senses become heightened at the very taste of her. My fingers continue to glide and slip into the heat of her sex.

“Fuck. You’re so wet.”

Sliding my fingers into her soaking wet pussy, I curl them, eliciting a whimper. The sounds of her pleasure send me into a frenzy of need. Her pussy clenches around my fingers and I know she’s close.

“Ethan…please…” she says on a breathy moan.

The sound of my voice on her lips undoes me. Releasing her neck, I free my cock from its confines, and pull her shorts down to her ankles, while continuing to stoke the wetness pooling between her thighs. Sliding my fingers from her pussy, I reach to tug her hair back. Our eyes meet again in the mirror. A sheen of sweat beads across our bodies.

“Eyes on me.”

She nods but her gaze wavers, allowing her eyelids to fall. I tug on her hair with more force and her eyes widen.

“Eyes on me.”

She swallows and nods. Running the tip of my cock through the pool of heat gathered between her thighs, I slide my cock into her pussy with ease. Her soft body stretches perfectly to fit my hardness. I thrust again, shoving myself as deep as I can go. A harnessed whimper rolls from her lips, and I take in the sight.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think the woman who has been nothing but a bane to my existence would ensnare every one of my senses. But here she is, a goddess like no other, spreading for me, dripping for me, mewling for me. The small white tip of her teeth biting her lower lip has every vein in my body strung for brutal release. I slide the length of my cock out to the tip. My sight never breaks from the plump pillows that invade my dreams. Every vitriolic barb she’s cast my way rolls off those fucking pouty lips. Each bar, each glint of fury from her eyes, deserves a punishing thrust which I’m more than willing to provide.

I grip her hips, curling deep on her soft flesh; to steady her or myself, I don’t know. I crave the touch of her, the heat of her. I slam into her with such force her mewls turn to cries, which only serve to fuel my need.

I fist her hair, pulling her head back further. Her vibrant green eyes glow with such ferocity; the need to fill her builds.