Chapter 145: Voices
He couldn’t continue to listen to the bombastic rubbish she was spewing from those beautiful lips of hers.
It was clear that she never thought he could love her - and she just admitted to having loved him.
She remained stiff, mostly stunned, as he continued to ply his lips against hers.
But slowly, the tension in her body dissipated and her lips melded against his. She moaned deep in her throat, her lips parting slightly.
Her hands which had risen to push him away just hoovered on his shoulders, neither pushing nor pulling.
She wanted him, of course she did.
But he didn’t want to take advantage of her while she was hurt and grieving.
His good hand slid into her hair, pulling out the pin that kept it neatly in place. The long tresses cascaded over her shoulder in smooth waves, glinting like autumn leaves under the sun.
He shivered when her hands slid down his bare chest, circling the muscles of his abdomen ever so lightly as if she were afraid to touch him. The robe, which was loosely fastened, slid off his shoulders and he shrugged it all the way to the ground.
He could feel the distance between them even though they were touching. And part of him ached to close the gap.
He winced slightly when she accidentally touched his injured hand in her gentle exploration.
Then she pulled away, breathing hard, her head cast down.
"It’s fine." He said, smoothing the pain out of his face so she won’t feel guilty.
But the bloody woman did not feel the slightest ounce of guilt.
Instead, she reached down and started undoing the laces of her dress. From the look of the knots, it was clear that she had dressed herself in a furious hurry.
And it brought a smile to his lips.
She had been hurrying to see him.
Not Aldrich.
Not Zach.
Not any other bloody man.
Unable to keep away from her any longer, he busied himself by kissing her neck. She let out a soft sigh, her hands still fumbling with the laces until the dress sagged against her shoulders.
With his good hand, he helped her shrug it down to her knees.
It was broad daylight - he had never made love to her in the day, he realized.
He pushed her against the bed. She tumbled and fell on her back, her legs tangled in the maze that constituted her dress.
She kicked it off without remorse and leaned down to start removing her slippers.
After her slippers, she moved to untie her garters.
He just stood there, watching her at first, but when she made to untie her garters, he stopped her.
"Leave it on." He whispered in her ear.
Colour crawled up her neck, flushing her skin in a way that made him hard all over again.
With a small push, she laid back against the bed and waited for his ministrations.
Yeren leaned down and took her lips in his once more, savouring the smell of lavender on her skin, the slippery warmth of her lips...
But it was difficult holding himself up with only one arm.
There was a soft knock on the door. Both of them froze for a split second.
"Go away." He grunted.
The knocking ceased and they could both hear footsteps going away from the door, fading into the hallway.
He returned to claim her lips after they were sure they were alone once more.
"Your arm..." She whispered when she heard him groan under his breath.
"It’s nothing."
But she clearly wasn’t buying it.
She pushed him until she was the one on top of him.
His eyes widened when her inner thigh brushed his aroused length.
"You’ll be the death of me, Miss Stenly."
She leaned forward and kissed him, all the while tormenting him by running her hands along his chest.
He was certain she knew what she was doing to him - and that she was enjoying it.
Perhaps, too much.
He slipped his good hand underneath her, searching for the opening in her drawers. He knew he’d found it when his fingers stroked moist flesh.
She tensed, her entire body going rigid for a second.
He watched her, his hand hovering at her entrance. She stroked a hand through her messy hair and stared ahead, as if being struck by lightning.
"Did you say something?" She suddenly asked.
He searched her eyes. She looked serious.
"No. Did you hear something?"
"Yes..." She whispered as though she were beginning to second-guess herself. "I heard your voice very clearly, but your mouth wasn’t moving."
His lust-hazy eyes cleared as he processed what she just told him.
"What did I say?"
He took in her dark blue cotton chemise and the lace straps that held on her shoulder, the peak of her nipples against the soft fabric, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed...
She was breathtakingly beautiful.
"I heard it again - you just said that I’m breathtakingly beautiful. And before... you said I was... enjoying it too much."
He had thought that, he realized, even thought the words had stayed within him.
"How in the world did you hear that?"
She paused, almost as if she stopped breathing altogether.
"I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the lack of food and sleep and... worry."
He knew it was bigger than the petty things she mentioned.
Then he remembered hearing her voice similarly the night he held her in his arms.
The only logical explanation was a mate bond, but he never believed they could have one since she wasn’t a wolf.
But after having seen her with a claw, the impossible was beginning to seem possible.
She climbed off him and reached for her dress heated on the floor.
He sat up, his expression one of thorough confusion.
"Where are you going?"
She didn’t answer. She just continued to tug the dress on with frustrated movements until she had fastened all the laces as best as her clumsy fingers allowed her.
In all she did, she avoided meeting his gaze.
Then, she lunged for the door.
"I’m taking a walk. I need fresh air."
He gazed at the door for a long time before glancing at the floor. Her hairpin lay there, completely forgotten.
He ran a hand through his hair.
He had to follow her, it wasn’t safe outside.
But part of him was afraid of being near her again.
What if she heard his private thoughts and discerned his feelings for her from them?