Page 82 of Touch of Hate
If I could only freeze us here, at this exact moment, for eternity.
When everything is perfect. When the world consists of the two of us and no one else. I’ve never been this happy, never knew it was possible to feel this deep sense of belonging. Fulfillment. I know who I am, where I want to be, and what I want to be doing as frequently as possible. In every possible way. Something tells me Ren won’t mind. I smile at the thought and snuggle closer to him, practically purring like a cat stretched out in the sun.
Reality comes crashing in all at once when a strange, wet sensation between my thighs reminds me of what he did.
What is now dripping out of me.
Terror grabs hold of me.
Oh god. “Ren. You came inside me.”
He snorts, then groans, his breath stirring my hair as his hand rubs gentle circles on my arm. “You’re right, I did, and I’ll do it again and again.”
Is that pride in his voice?
Does he not understand the depth of what I’m trying to say?
“I’m not on birth control yet. You can’t do that.” I release a sharp exhale.
“I can’t? You’re telling me what I can and can’t do? Especially when it comes to you? No. I’m clean, angel, and haven’t had sex for a very long time, and I refuse to let anything come between us. There will be no barriers when I take you. I’d rather take the risk of getting you pregnant.”
“I’m just saying,” I blurt out while dread begins rising at the edge in his voice. “I’d love a family, but—”
“But nothing. When you let me take you, we became one. I’ll cherish you, care for you, and protect you at any cost, but I will always come inside your pussy. It can’t be any other way. Won’t be.”
He smiles lovingly at me and is almost heartbreakingly gentle as he strokes my hair, the strands running through his fingers. “I told you, there’s no going back once I claim you. I intend to make you mine in every way possible. Getting you pregnant is high on my priority list, right beside marrying you.”
On the one hand, the fact that he’s even thinking along those lines is enough to make my pulse race. A future. A family. The two of us. I can almost see it in my head, so close I could reach out and touch it.
On the other hand, I wonder if I’m ever going to get a choice in when these milestones occur.
Who am I kidding? Women in our world rarely get a choice.
What we do is hold on to our men and love them as hard as we can.
My arms tighten around him like I’m thinking the thought out loud, taking the concept literally. I’m more than prepared to do that.
Even if it means loving him through whatever he’s going through.
He stirs, pulling me from the direction my thoughts have taken. I can’t say I’m sorry for it. I don’t want these troubling thoughts tainting what should be a happy, almost sacred moment. Lying in the arms of the man I love, I’m finally fully his.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he suggests with a chuckle. “We could both use a shower now, though I have bad news.”
“What is it?” I lift my head far enough to read his smirk and the way his eyes sparkle. If only I could make it so he’s always so happy and peaceful. I want nothing more.
“There isn’t always enough hot water. We’re going to have to share the shower and conserve it.” He can’t hide his glee. “It’s the responsible thing to do.”
I can’t feign seriousness the way he does, giggling at him instead. I’ve missed the playful energy he exudes. “We don’t want to be irresponsible.” My body has different ideas, though, sore muscles screaming at me like I personally offended them as soon as I try to move.
The soreness in my core leaves a slight sting as I press my thighs together. My heart softens until it’s nearly melted when Ren takes notice. His dark brows draw together with concern, his body stiffening beside mine.
“Are you sore? I tried so hard to be gentle, but my desire for you overrode every rational thought. I’d apologize, but I can’t. I want you to be sore. I want you to remember who it was that claimed you. Need you to feel me deep inside with every move you make.”
“I know.” The hand I smooth over his cheek seems to soothe him, but only a little. “Every first time hurts, or at least from what I’ve read.”
“The first time.” It’s almost like he’s savoring the words he whispers.
Like they’re the words to a prayer or a spell. He must notice the quizzical look I give him because he smiles sheepishly. “I can’t pretend the thought of being your first doesn’t make me hard as steel, angel. Hell, even now, I want to fuck you again.”