CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sophie
I awaken in the middle of the night to an empty bed, missing the warmth I had curled around me before I fell asleep. My bleary eyes glance at the clock to see it’s three in the morning. Wondering where he is, I pull the covers away and push from the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. As soon as I step out of the bedroom, I hear the faint sound of fists smacking leather from the room down the hall.
I follow the sound to the gym and push the cracked door open, my steps faltering at the sight.
Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” comes from the speakers as Kolan destroys the heavy bag. Each jab is calculated and precise. His rage and despair hover like a dark cloud, the cloak of darkness casting shadows upon my heart. Judging by his sweat-soaked body, it’s apparent he’s been at it for a while.
The succession of blows come to a stop, his body tensing when he senses my presence. He grabs the chain at the top of the bag, his exhausted body sagging and chest heaving for each breath he takes.
“You shouldn’t be here right now,” he rasps.
The gruff sound of his deep voice draws me closer. My hand tentatively reaches out to touch his back, feeling his slick muscles pulse beneath my palm.
“Kolan, look at me.”
His face turns to the side, meeting mine. The wild fury and complete helplessness that bleeds from him has pain striking my heart.
This is because of me—because of Daniel. It’s finally wearing him down. He’s had enough, and I don’t blame him.
He walks away to grab his towel at the other end of the room, wiping down his face and chest. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there soon,” he orders without looking at me.
I ignore the sting of his brush-off and move toward him, refusing to let him push me away.
“Sophie,” he warns with narrow eyes, but I don’t let it deter me.
Reaching out, I fold my arms around his lean waist, ignoring his rigid posture. “Please, don’t shut me out,” I plead. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m just really fucking mad right now. Let me cool off, then I’ll come back to bed.”
“Are you angry with me?” The thought has emotion clogging my throat.
He shakes his head, the tightness in his muscles slightly easing. “No, baby, I could never be angry with you.”
Resting my forehead on his chest, I press my lips over one of the seven scars that mark him. Then move to the next one, wanting to erase his pain and frustration.
His hands clutch my shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea, Soph.”
“I think it’s a very good idea,” I tell him, my tongue darting out to taste his salty skin. When his grip tightens, I peer up at him, and find the battle he’s fighting raging in his dark, troubled eyes. “Trust me, Kolan.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust.”
Grief grips my heart to hear him so conflicted, especially when it comes to me. “I trust you enough for the both of us.” Dropping my hand between us, I brush over his hard length through the thin fabric of his shorts, watching his jaw flex. “Let me do this. Let me make you feel good like you do me.”
I don’t wait for a response. My lips coast down his hard stomach as I fall to my knees before him. The groan that escapes him gives me a feeling of empowerment, despite my position.
“My warrior,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the ink above his waistband.
His hands move to the side of my head, silently commanding my gaze.
I give it to him.
“We do this my way,” he says, voice rough.
I nod, knowing this is hard for him. I want his trust but I will never take his control. Not when I know how much he needs it. And if I’m being honest, I need it just as much as he does. It does something to me, feeds a part of my soul that I never knew I had—that I’d never give to anyone else but him.
His thumb grazes my bottom lip as my hands move to the waistband of his shorts, gently tugging them down his hips until his erection springs free. When I wrap my fingers around him, he pumps into my firm grasp with a hiss, his piercing as warm and smooth as the rest of him.
With one hand, he grips either side of my jaw, his thumb and fingers pressing to open my mouth for him. “Put those sweet lips around my cock, baby, and suck.”
The order is dark—hungry. His large body looming over mine with so much power should be intimidating, but all I feel is a gush of warmth between my legs. I follow the command; taking him in as far as I can possibly go before releasing him on a slow glide, dragging my wet lips along his shaft.
“That’s it. Just like that.” His praise has me taking him deeper, working my hand up and down the length of him, seeking the release I know he needs. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, Soph.”
A whimper escapes me, my clit swelling at his dirty words. This time when I suck back to the top, I play with his piercing, my tongue flicking the metal before swirling the velvet tip.
“Jesus.” His head drops against the wall, muscles straining and jaw flexing. “You’re goddamn perfect,” he rasps. “Relax, baby, take me all the way back.”
I do as he says, feeling the tip of him slip down my throat. Reflex has me swallowing.
“Fuck!” His fingers grip my hair with a delicious sting and he begins pumping his hips, fucking my mouth with quick strokes. I give him the control, letting him set the pace. “You like this, Soph? Like when I fuck this hot mouth of yours?”
I moan, conveying just how much.
I love it.
Love seeing him like this and knowing I’m the one doing it to him.
With each passing thrust, I feel him harden further. “Shit.” His pace slows, a tortured groan leaving him as he begins to withdraw.
I don’t let him. My hands move to his hips, my mouth continuing to stroke.
“Soph, I’m about to explode. Pull back.”
I moan again, letting him know how much I want it, and renew my efforts.
He comes on a roar of pleasure. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. This man. This strong, powerful man falling apart above me. I swallow every drop of him, relishing in his release, soaking in it. My own need escalating.
With a heaving breath, he pulls from my mouth and bends down to gather me in his arms, lifting me to my feet. Then he spins me around. “Hands on the mirror.”
I obey quickly, pressing my hands to the cool glass, my own need and desire overriding everything else. He shoves down his shorts, stepping out of them, then shreds my panties from my body. The bite of the fabric across my sensitive skin only adds to the moment.
Intensifies it.
Injects something so raw and potent I feel drunk from it.
His hands move to the hem of my tank top, peeling it from my body and tossing it to the floor. My chest blooms with heat as he stands behind me, a wild fire burning in his gaze.
“Spread your legs.” The low husk of his voice has me moving without hesitation. Parting my legs shoulder width, my body is less than an arm’s length from the mirror. He hooks an arm under my left leg, lifting it up before entering me in one smooth thrust.
I cry out at the beautiful invasion. Loving the way he completes me—body and soul.
“Goddamn, Sophie,” he groans. “As much as I loved your mouth, baby, there is nothing like the feel of your hungry little pussy taking my cock.”
“So good,” I agree with a whimper, my gaze focused on our connection, watching him disappear in and out of me.
“That’s because I fucking own it. It’s mine,” he says, his possessive words fueling the flames claiming my body.
“Yes,” I moan.
“Just like you are, right?”
The change in his voice has me dragging my eyes up to find his, and what I discover there has my heart swelling in my chest. He looks unsure…scared. Something I’ve never seen in him before.
“Tell me, Soph,” he demands, his voice rough. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I say, not because he told me to but because it’s true. He owns every part of me, especially my heart.
“Because you want to be.”
“Yes. I want to be. More than anything in the world.”
He buries his face in my hair. “I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”
It all suddenly becomes clear. How I found him tonight in here. He’s more than angry.
He’s scared.
Not of Daniel but of losing me.
My arm lifts to wrap around his neck, my throat too clogged to speak because it’s my biggest fear, too. I’m not even afraid of dying anymore. My biggest fear is never feeling this again. Of not being with him.
Pulling out of me, he breaks our connection for only a second before spinning me around and lifting me off my feet. The moment my legs hug his lean hips, he drives up into me—shattering me for a second time.
“I want to look at you while I’m fucking you. To look in your eyes as you take all of me, and know that I have you the same way you do me.”
I rest my forehead gently against his, feeling his warm breath whisper across my lips. “You have me, Kolan. Never doubt that. You have every single part of me.”
My lips seal over his with the promise of forever, because I’m too afraid to say it out loud.
With a growl, he changes the angle of his thrust, my back kissing the cool surface as he buries himself deeper—harder. My head drops back on a moan as he takes me to the brink of destruction.
“Give me what I want, baby. Let me watch you fall apart for me.”
I give into it, letting my orgasm hurdle through me like a tidal wave. As Kolan gives into his own release, I hold him close through it all, burying my face into his shoulder and praying I’ll never know what it’s like to go without this man’s touch.
Once we’ve caught our breath, he carries us to the shower. His touch is soft and gentle as he washes me, a complete contradiction to how he was minutes before.
I love both sides of him.
When he kneels before me, his forehead rests on my stomach, lips catching the rivulets of water as steam fills the enclosed space. I thread my fingers through his wet hair, holding him close. Silence hangs between us, thick and heavy, but no words are needed in this moment.
Afterward, he holds me in bed; his arms like a protective shell that I want to live in forever.
My fingers trace the scars on his chest. “What are these?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“Cigarette burns.”
I stiffen, pain slicing through my heart like a ruthless blade. His voice is hollow. No emotion. No pain. Nothing.
“Your father?”
“Yeah.”
Tears blur my eyes, no matter how hard I try to hold back. How could anyone hurt him? Now or as a child. It’s something I just can’t fathom. It only proves just how many cruel people walk this earth.
“I hate him,” I whisper.
We both know I’m not only talking about his father.
“Me too, baby,” he says on a heavy breath. “Me, too.”
I burrow my head closer to his heart, resting my lips against one of the puckered scars, vowing to always watch over him, just like he does me.