Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All

Verity:

"Listen, the point is, touching a drunk person is wrong. You cannot consent to it," he said, his eyes warning me.

However, he did not expect what I was going to do next.

I suddenly grabbed the collar of his shirt, watching his eyes widen and his hands drop to mine where they gripped his shirt.

"Why? Do you not wish to do anything to me?" I asked, watching him swallow and try to step back.

However, his foot slipped on the bathroom floor, and he went down with a thud.

Because I was still gripping his shirt so tightly, I lost my balance and fell on top of him.

Thankfully, his head did not hit the floor. I did not want him to pass out here.

But I could only imagine how much impact his hips and back had taken.

Then again, for a man who was always working out and was so powerful, I doubted it hurt him that badly.

"Did you drop something?" I heard Lucille yell from outside, causing Ragnar to close his eyes and grunt under his breath.

"No," he replied harshly, possibly because he was annoyed.

Then he glared at me, slowly gripping my elbows, pulling my hands away from him, and pushing me back.

By then, he had started crawling backward, trying to reach the wall so he could use it to help himself stand.

I was already on my feet when I rushed toward him and sat on his lap before he could get up.

"What are you doing?" he whispered to me.

We had landed directly beneath the shower. Well, partially beneath it, with the water pouring over half of us.

He grabbed my hands, trying to lift me off him as he shifted back until he was sitting against the wall with me in his lap, but I pulled my hands free and grabbed his collar again.

"Do you not want to?" I asked again.

He frowned.

I sat over his abdomen with my legs parted and my knees on the floor, cold water hitting both of us. This time, my head was above his.

I brought my face closer to his and whispered, "Do you not want to touch me anywhere?"

I released his collar with one hand, took his hand, and placed it over my breast.

The instant his palm pressed against my nipple through the thin, wet silk, both our bodies jolted.

He tried to pull his hand away, but I pressed it more firmly against my breast.

Then I leaned closer and whispered near his face, "Do you not want to lick my nipple?"

I watched his eyes widen as he swallowed hard.

He managed to pull his hand away, and this time, I did not stop him.

But I pressed my body even more firmly against his, leaving only a few inches between our faces, while one of his hands instinctively landed on my back to keep me balanced.

"Do you not want to fall asleep while sucking my nipples?" I added, breathing deeply and heavily.

With every breath I took, I watched his breathing quicken.

He was no longer protesting.

"Not even once do you want to spread my legs and kiss my pussy?"

As I said it, I watched him close his eyes for a brief second before opening them again.

His jaw clenched.

"Do you not wish to grab me by the hair, turn me around, slam my body against the wall, and slip your cock into my pussy from behind?" I continued, hearing my own heartbeat and feeling his pounding against me as well.

Our breaths mingled as we stared into each other’s eyes.

I noticed a slight trembling in his fingers, just enough that I could feel it against my skin.

Finally, his gaze dropped to my lips before lowering to my breasts.

The water had made my silk top practically transparent. The wet fabric clung to the shape of my breasts, following every curve, and my nipples were clearly visible through it.

I watched him swallow hard before he closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

He swallowed a few more times, and his fingers curled into fists behind my back.

Then I felt it, his bulge growing against my ass.

His eyes opened, and suddenly, he grabbed me around the back and pulled me off his lap, almost as if he were throwing me away from him.

It was not forceful enough to hurt, but the sudden movement was noticeable.

He got to his feet and immediately stepped beneath the shower.

I moved into the corner, suddenly feeling very awkward.

He ran his hands down his torso, grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands, pulled it upward, and lifted it over his head before tossing it aside.

That was when I saw it, his fucking ripped body from this close.

His abs were prominent, every line of muscle sharply defined. His muscles looked as hard as stone.

He had a few tattoos as well.

There was a small eagle tattoo right at his nape and a snake tattoo disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts, low on his abdomen.

My gaze dropped, and I tried to peek as much as I could.

When I looked up, I found him staring at me.

He had caught me.

I felt so embarrassed, even after all the far more embarrassing things I had said.

He turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around his waist over his shorts before running a hand through his hair.

He took a deep breath and walked over to me, his hands resting on his hips.

I stood tucked into the corner, suddenly vulnerable, holding one elbow and drawing my body inward.

"No. I don’t want to do any of that," he said.

My head snapped up, and I looked into his eyes.

He met my gaze with complete confidence.

"And I can control myself a thousand times over because I don’t want it. I don’t want you. Not your body, not your scent, nothing."

He said it without blinking, showing just how determined he was and how certain he seemed of his own words.