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spacesquidlings · 6 months

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A Call To Motion; A Verb In Perfect View

Description: After returning from a tiring business trip, the only things Marius and Rowan have on their minds are long bouts of lovemaking and a well-deserved vacation. But when Marius is called back to Pax for a sudden emergency, Rowan is left entirely alone, without the mischief o her fiancé, without so much as a text letting her know how long he'll be. So when he finally does return home, she has something new on her mind: Revenge.

Pairing: Marius von Hagen x Rosa/OC (Rowan)

Warnings: Hand jobs, blow jobs, light BDSM dynamics, handcuffs (well, his hands are tied up with a tie but), porn with feelings, hair-pulling, orgasm delay/edging. Explicit, for individuals 18+ ONLY

Notes: Inspired by the second anniversary card (we ALL know the one). I really could not help myself

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Marius was being a menace.

Which begged the question of when was he not one. But today he seemed to be more impish than usual, constantly trying to derail Rowan’s focus.

Trying and succeeding, she was loath to admit.

How many times already had he managed to coax her into a compromising position? To find a way to peel her panties from her body and drag them down her legs? To get his arms around her and touch her in just the right places to make her melt?

Far too many. She’d lost count ages ago.

Her body had become a map of all the places Marius loved best, hickies covering her neck and collarbone, love bites trailing over her hips and the inside of her thighs, bruises already blossoming on her breasts where he had most focused his attentions.

Marius had returned from a particularly grueling business trip a few days prior, and they had spent the two days after his return tangled together, making a mess of the sheets and each other.

Rowan would be lying if she said it hadn’t been wonderful to have him back in her arms after what had felt like ages. But after two days she’d hoped for a day-long interlude, if only to get a few things done and to rest her tired body after all of the obscene things they had gotten up to.

She had missed him so terribly, and beyond feeling his hands and teeth all over her body, she had imagined spending the morning curled up beside him, reading through some things before beginning her work in earnest. Afterwards she’d thought she would work at the kitchen table, and she would tangle her hands with his as he brushed past, and she would get up to find him and cuddle with him when she needed a break.

Which, she quickly realized, was not at all what Marius had in mind.

Not that she could really fault him. He so rarely had time off, and even more rare and precious were multiple days off in a row. And they’d had nothing planned for the week, the vacation they had scheduled still being over a month away.

Not to mention he often came home after work aroused, but so infrequently had time left in the day before needing to go to sleep.

And she had missed him so terribly, and there had been many a long night where she’d dreamt of him pressed against her, of his warm laughter in her ear, of his hands slipping between her thighs. Her cheeks burned just from the memory of all the sordid things she’d dreamt about in his absence.

This little interlude really was like a gift from the universe for them. It was utter bliss getting to spend so much time with him. She could hold him and listen to the rasp of his words as his lips brushed against her ears. She could fall asleep with her fingers in his hair and his face nestled between her breasts. She could tell him how much she loved him between gasps as she struggled to draw air with every thrust of his hips.

Rowan peeked up at him from where she was nestled against him. Their bed had become a nest of pillows and blankets heaped haphazardly around them, with their tangled bodies at the centre. They had collapsed against each other, falling asleep in half a breath after they’d come down from their shared release. He’d curled his body around hers, and even now she was caught in his arms, tucked protectively against his chest.

It reminded her a little like a scene straight out of a romance novel. Of a prince reuniting with his princess after a harrowing quest, locking themselves away to hold each other close, revelling in the feel of their most beloved person after fearing they would lose the other forever.

This moment would be the scene where the princess slowly woke up, memories racing to the forefront of her mind, joy spreading through her like sunshine across a new day. Her prince’s arms would tighten around her reflexively, shielding her from an evil that had already been defeated, but that haunted him all the same.

Rowan couldn’t help grinning to herself at the thought. Melodramatic scenes like that were always the best part of such novels, the quiet moments shared between the romantic leads where they professed their love and swore to spend every remaining moment in their lives together, making each other happy while they tried to make their fantastical world better.

It was not exactly something she was about to tell Marius. She could already imagine the smug grin that would slide across his face, the mischief that would make his amethyst eyes darken to a fathomless indigo, lit only by the delight at whatever teasing he was about to inflict.

No, there was simply no way she was letting him know how reminiscent he was of a romantic hero. She would never hear the end of it, he would surely bring it up constantly.

She smiled to herself, wiggling one arm out from where it was smushed against him to brush his bangs back from his face. They were messy, sticking up at odd angles. His cheeks were red, too, lines pressed into his skin from the pillows stacked under his head. His mouth had fallen open, a trickle of drool snaking from the corner of his mouth.

Right now he was nothing at all like the sleek, polished CEO of Pax that he so normally embodied. Right now he was Marius; he was her sweet, mischievous Marius. He sighed in his sleep and her heart bloomed with light, overflowing with so much joy she wanted to squish his cheeks between her hands and shower kisses over his face.

She wiped the drool from his face, a pang of loneliness hollowing out some of that light. She knew he needed some sleep, needing rest even more than she did, but still she wished he were awake. His voice echoed in the back of her mind, but it wasn’t the same as the real thing. It was lonely, hollow in a way his voice never truly was.

His voice was like sunshine washing over a winter morning, melting the fallen snow until all that remained was glittering beads of ice and frost, as though the world was drowning in crushed diamonds. Everything glittering, everything aglow.

She couldn’t wake him, though, no matter how much she wanted to. He needed his rest, and she couldn’t take that from him.

Rowan closed her eyes, figuring that she would just fall back asleep. Perhaps a few more hours were all she needed and she would feel refreshed when she woke once more. Then Marius would be awake too and she could tell him how much she missed him and he would tease her horribly.

Her hopes, however, did not come to fruition. Although Rowan tried her best to sleep, she could not seem to grasp at the insubstantial wisp of unconsciousness that fluttered around her like gossamer wings. It was always just out of reach; each time she thought she was finally falling asleep, the world around her would seem to sharpen. She became all too aware of the blankets around her, of the beat of her own heart, of the hush of the air conditioning as it turned back on.

It might have been seconds or it might have been hours, but eventually Rowan had to concede defeat: she was not going to be falling asleep any time soon.

Her body might have been tired, but her mind was awake, buzzing with overlapping thoughts that would not cease long enough for her dreams to grow like flowers sprouting in the spring.

She laid like that for a while, her mind a mess of whirling thoughts as she considered submitting to her fate. It wasn’t like she wanted to move away from him, not when he was so warm and comfy. She wanted to stay with him, but she also wanted to do more than lie there and stare at the ceiling, listening to the air conditioning cut off when the air in the room cooled.

But it didn’t seem like Marius was going to be waking up any time soon, and she was certain she would go mad if she stayed here for a moment longer.

She moved tentatively at first, gently prying his fingers from her back until he released her. She didn’t want to wake him, not when he needed rest so much more than she did, so she moved with painstaking slowness. First one arm, then the other, tucking them against his chest when she finally managed to release herself from his arms.

Next was disentangling her legs from his, which thankfully did not require as much careful, intricate movement. All she really had to do was shift backwards gently, drawing her body away from his until the only thing wrapped around her were the sheets.

She dropped a kiss to the top of his head, smoothing his hair back and readjusting the blankets around him.

“Have the sweetest dreams, my love,” she murmured, heart aching as she drew back.

He shifted, and for a moment her heart stopped. Had everything been in vain? Had she woken him up with her movement?

But then Marius just sighed, smiling from whatever dream had captivated him in his sleep.

Rowan smiled to herself, tiptoeing from the room, closing the door as gently as she could. She hoped he had good dreams, and she hoped he wouldn’t be too upset when he woke up and she wasn’t there beside him.

Pouty, perhaps. But hopefully he wouldn’t be truly upset. The last time he’d woken up after her he’d whined for the rest of the day, practically glued to her until they went to bed that night. When she’d woken the next morning Marius had been practically on top of her, his head practically tucked beneath her chin, his torso covering hers, their legs intertwined.

Well, if that was to be her fate in the coming days she wouldn’t mind. It was like Marius had been built for cuddling, his body warm, the beat of his heart a gentle melody, the tenor of his voice a soothing balm. He was fit, something she was constantly aware of even when he was clothed, and yet still his body was soft, the perfect cushion for her to lay against, to be held close to.

She moved as silently as she could until she got to the kitchen, practically crumbling against the counter as she cursed herself and her stupid body. Fatigue still lingered in her veins, still weighed her down like lead filling the hollows of her bones.

It was her stupid mind, buzzing with far too many thoughts. Perhaps it was from the knowledge that emails were piling high in her inbox, or that the report she’d been working on before Marius came home was stagnating in her computer.

If those were completed maybe then she would be able to rest.

It was only then, as the air conditioning whirred to life, that Rowan realized how sticky she felt. Sweat coated her body like a second skin, her hair knotted and sticking up at awkward angles, the short nightgown she’d barely gotten onto her body before Marius had dragged her to the bed and gotten his way again hanging at an awkward angle.

Upon closer inspection Rowan realized that the nightgown was torn, a massive rip zig-zagging down the front. It was a miracle it was even still on her body at all, that it hadn’t completely fallen away when she’d gotten up.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she considered her options. She could just sit down right now and get to work. But she was sweaty, and sticky, and she really had to pee, and she could feel where Marius’ release had congealed on the inside of her thighs.

A shower first, then. And afterwards she would change into something a little less tattered, and a little less revealing too. On the off chance that Marius woke up hard and needy and tried to steal her attention by running his hands over her exposed skin.

Rowan crept back to the bathroom, shedding her ruined nightgown and running a hot shower, watching as the steam rose up from the tub before climbing in.

The heat eased aches she hadn’t even noticed in her bones yet. It soothed the dull throb of all the bite marks scattered over her neck, momentarily veiling them as her skin turned cherry red beneath the running water.

It would be a lie to say she showered quickly. Her body felt leaden, and the water rushing over her skin felt far too good. She washed slowly, soapy bubbles coating every inch of her skin until she smelled like roses and vanilla and green, growing things plucked fresh from a summer garden.

She took extra care between her legs, needing to rinse off more than a few times, wiping her skin down gently as she was still sore and sensitive between her thighs. Memories of the night before flashed in her memory. Of Marius’ wide grin, how smug he sounded as he asked her if she felt good, if she wanted him to fill her up. Of his laughter, breathy as he wiped up the cum that spilled out of her and stuffed it back inside with his fingers, telling her that she couldn’t waste even a drop.

It was like she could feel his fingers even now teasing her clit, circling around her entrance as she had writhed beneath him. His voice echoed in the back of her mind, telling her how pretty she sounded, how turned on he was, how she felt so so good around him.

Rowan’s cheeks flamed, this time having nothing to do with the heat of the shower. She scrubbed harder, ignoring the way her skin stung from the force. She needed to distract herself, needed to refocus her mind.

She looked a little like a boiled lobster when she finally shut off the water, wrapping the biggest, fluffiest towel she could find around herself before slinking back to their bedroom. She opened the door little more than a crack, peeking in to make sure Marius wasn’t stirring.

Relieved to see he was still, his quiet breaths the only sound in the room, she snuck in, grabbing a pair of comfy shorts and a sweater before bolting back out again.

Outside the temperature was no doubt already climbing, and as she passed by the windows she could feel the heat even through the drawn curtains. But the apartment was cool, and she was reminded of autumn winds as she breathed, the air slicing pleasantly into her lungs with every breath.

She changed quickly, not bothering to dry her hair and twisting it up into a bun. It would dry on its own, and she didn’t want to risk the sound waking Marius up.

She was only just grabbing her laptop when her stomach growled, an earthquake that rumbled through her bones and made her take pause.

Alright. She would make something to eat and then she would sit down to finish up some work.

Rowan decided on making something she could share with Marius when he finally did wake up, taking pains to be as quiet as possible as she cracked eggs and hand-mixed batter and measured out milk and oil and water.

She cleaned as she went, the mess from cooking niggling at the back of her mind. It felt like she was dragging a thousand pound weight every time she lifted her arms or walked across the kitchen to rifle through the pantry, but by some miracle she managed to finish cooking and clean up the kitchen.

It was a feat she very highly doubted she would be able to achieve again anytime soon. She felt ready to collapse as she shuffled to the kitchen table, falling into her chair with a dull thump.

The food at the very least was rejuvenating, and a tendril of energy curled through her as she ate, scrolling mindlessly through her phone.

With her plate cleaned, Rowan set her phone to the side, wincing as she opened up her laptop and clicked on her email app. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach, all that delicious food she had just made congealing into a heavy mass that made her belly roil.

It had only been two days, but it had been two unexpected days. She’d needed to get her report in before her time off could begin, and the report was, by all accounts and purposes, late.

But when her emails finally appeared, a wave of relief rushed over her. There were only a few, and only one checking in on the status of her report.

The emails were easy to manage, mainly a few responses to inquiries about some research she’d been conducting. There was a video call request she declined, delighted to not have to speak with that particular person, hopefully ever again.

She parsed through the emails easily, sipping at the warm mug of tea she’d poured for herself. It was lightly caffeinated, still energizing her while being more soothing, and lighter on her stomach than a coffee would have been.

Finally it was time to finish her report, and even that went much quicker than she had expected.

It was already nearly complete, and she spent maybe an hour at most finishing the write up. She felt weirdly focused, not even noticing the way her eyes were aching from staring so intently at her screen as she typed. It wasn’t until she fell back against her chair, looking up as she stretched her neck, that she realized how stiff she had gotten, how her eyes hurt from the strain.

Digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, she groaned, forgetting that Marius was still asleep down the hall. Barely a second passed and she clamped her mouth shut, terrified that she might have roused him.

It would have been nice to see him again, her body already missing the warmth of his embrace. But the last thing she wanted was to disturb his much needed sleep; he was probably exhausted and it was finally catching up to him.

The report was sent off within another thirty minutes, and as her email made a quiet whooshing sound she shut her laptop, practically sliding to the floor in relief.

Finally it was done, finally that weight was lifted from her shoulders. Now she could enjoy her upcoming vacation, could enjoy this interlude with Marius.

All of her strength was required to pull herself to her feet, her mind still whirring despite finishing up her work. She was finally free and still her mind refused to relax.

Rowan packed up the breakfast she’d made for Marius, setting it in the fridge so it didn’t go bad while he slept. It only took a few moments, and she was left to pace the kitchen aimlessly as her thoughts churned.

It was strange to not know what to do, to have no idea how to while away her time, but she was at a complete loss.

When Marius was home they’d normally watch a movie together, or play a game, or open up another Lego set he’d wanted to build together. Sometimes they would do things separately, but in the same room, like toddlers playing next to each other.

But he was not awake, so she was on her own.

Rowan ended up settling for making herself an herbal tea to relax with and reading a book. The cream-coloured pages would be gentler on her eyes than a screen, and perhaps it would relax her enough to calm the incessant buzzing in her head.

She couldn’t help smiling as she read, setting her mug to the side to wait for it to cool as she turned the pages. The romantic lead reminded her a little too much of Marius, with his sharp remarks and constant teasing of the female lead. The character had been written to be smart and sweet, but also a shameless flirt.

Rowan made a note in the margin of the book, smiling wider as she underlined something she’d definitely heard Marius say before. It made her giggle, warmed her heart a little to be reminded of her fiancé through such a little thing.

She got through a few chapters before her eyelids became too difficult to keep open. She couldn’t seem to focus on the words on the page, her mind flitting away like butterfly wings as it was drawn into oblivion.

The rest she had been chasing after had finally found her, but it caught her completely unaware. One moment she was sitting up, sipping the last dredges of her tea as she struggled to keep her eyes open, the next she was slipping away like she’d been caught in a riptide, tossed out into the sea of her dreams.

Her dreamscape was blurry, scenery shifting each time she tried to focus. One moment a forest, the next an ocean, the next a mountain range. She could hear laughter to her left, to her right. It echoed in the cavernous space of her mind, ringing against cliffs and skidding across foaming waves. A shadow was brushing against her cheek, running through her hair. But each time she tried to reach out, tried to grab hold, it would melt away, replaced by a whirl of laughter.

Footsteps sank into sand, into loam. It snapped twigs, sent rocks careening. It trailed away from her, a path that shifted between worlds as she tried to follow along.

Rowan thought she might be calling out to the shadowy figure in her dream, but they didn’t hear her, and it made her heart ache. Why would they not come back, why would he not come back for her?! Why would he not turn around, embrace her as he always did?

Memories were as insubstantial as clouds, as spun sugar dipped in water. They flitted through her, leaving her with scraps to stitch together as she chased after the figure. She knew him, knew that it was a him. But she did not know herself, did not know him either. Only that she loved him, that she wished for his smile, wished for his arms to wrap so lovingly around her.

Another brush to her cheek drew her attention, her surroundings giving way to pallid light. The shadowy figure was less insubstantial, and yet still she could not make him out.

Then there was the sound of her name, followed by a gentle melody that roused her from sleep, her dreams crumpling around her until all she saw was the inside of her eyelids, light from the day staining them gold.

There truly was a hand at her cheek, and when Rowan managed to crack her eyes open she found Marius perched on the couch beside her, stroking her face.

“Welcome back, my sleeping beauty.” He was grinning, his smile smug despite the softness of his eyes.

His expression set her on edge, and she struggled to sit up, sleep still clutching at her, dragging her back down against the cushions.

Marius chuckled, seeming to sense her unease. “Why are you giving me that face? Can I not wish my fiancée a good morning?”

She frowned. “It’s definitely past noon.”

“Close enough.” He leaned down to drop a kiss to her lips, pulling away before she could even tilt her head up.

His smile did nothing but grow wider, the amethyst of his eyes alight with mischief.

“You know I was awfully lonely when I woke up,” he began, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And I was so cold.”

“Marius there’s like twenty blankets on the bed.”

He stuck out his bottom lip, shoulders slouching. “I’m always cold without you.”

“I didn’t leave.” She didn’t even know why she was arguing; she was no match against his puppy dog eyes or his pout. He would most certainly be getting his way, bantering like this only prolonged the inevitable.

“But you came out here to sleep!” His eyes widened, round as saucers. They took on a glassy sheen, silver seeming to pool in the corners.

She winced, pushing aside the blanket draped over her to reach for his hands. “Babey, I got up so I wouldn’t disturb you while you slept.”

He dropped his head, nuzzling against her cheek. “But I missed you.”

“I just made some food, and then I did a little reading. I didn’t even mean to fall asleep.” She snaked her arm around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. “I promise, I wasn’t trying to leave you.”

“I missed you. I was so lonely, I thought I was in a nightmare.”

Her heart constricted at his words, and although in the back of her mind Rowan just knew Marius was teasing her, it was so incredibly hard not to feel guilty. Despite his usual mischief, he could be so earnest and sweet, and his sad face and his whimpers made her want to hold him against her and comfort him for as long as he needed.

This time was no different, and Rowan couldn’t help herself from wrapping both arms around him, murmuring that she was sorry for making him unhappy.

Laughter followed her words, the sound reverberating through her, echoing in the hollows of her bones like chiming bells. Marius trembled in her embrace, unable to hold himself together as he laughed. And all the while all Rowan could do was glare at the ceiling, silently cursing herself for falling into his trap. Again.

To save whatever scraps of her dignity remained, Rowan pinched his side, scooting away from him as he leapt back.

“How could you?!” He whined, eyes teary once more as he rubbed at his side. His bottom lip quivered, and again she felt that tug on her heart. Oh how she wanted nothing more than to draw him into her arms.

But then he would laugh at her again and she was too sleepy for that.

Instead Rowan found herself scowling at Marius as she drew the blanket around her shoulders. “You’re teasing me! You woke me up just to tease me!”

Marius’ expression was anything but remorseful, his eyes bright as gems, his smile so wide it could have outshone the sun. “I had to have my revenge somehow, love.”

She scrunched up into a ball, looking away from him as she grumbled. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I even cooked for you.”

The couch cushions sank as he shifted closer. He moved his arms awkwardly, as if trying to figure out the best way to draw her close

For just one spare moment Rowan allowed herself a victorious smile as his brows drew low, his hands settling on her shoulders.

“Rowan,” his eyes were dark, serious, as though he were trying to dismantle a bomb and not figure out how to move her from the corner of the couch. She had become a tree, roots stretching far beneath her, holding herfast to this spot. “Jiejie, won’t you let me hold you?”

She huffed. “So you can tease me again?”

His brow wrinkled, lips drawing down into an adorable pout. The urge to cup his cheeks and press her lips to his was overwhelming, to feel as that pout bloomed into a sunshine smile, as his hands fell to her waist, as he drew her close while he murmured sweet things that made her melt.

He reached out, toying with her hair. “Why won’t you cuddle with me?”

“Does that really need explaining?”

His brow arched, lips curling into an impish grin. “You always see right through me.”

She huffed, looking away. She really did want to cuddle, but right now telling him so would be disastrous. He wouldn’t let her live it down for ages. And after all the whining and begging she had done the last two days, she really didn’t need to add something else to the pile of things Marius was never letting her forget.

He plucked at the blanket, her hair, anything to draw her attention back towards him. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” She squeezed her eyes shut as static crackled along her skin beneath his touch. He was stroking her cheek now, tracing the line of her jaw, the column of her neck.

“But you won’t even look at me.”

“Maybe I’m grouchy that you woke me up.”

He hummed, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Then won’t you let me fix it?”

Huffing, Rowan spared him a glance from the corner of her eye. “How are you going to fix it?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, his expression suspiciously gentle. “Will you let me hold you?”

Sighing, she slowly unfurled herself from the ball she’d curled into. The blanket slipped to the side as she let him draw her into his lap, scattering kisses over her brow as he tucked her against his chest.

“This is better,” he sighed, nuzzling the top of her head. “I feel happier already.”

She rolled her eyes, even as she sank into his embrace. It really did feel better to be back in his arms, to nestle against his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. She felt like this was where she belonged, like she fit perfectly in his arms.

“It feels like we were made for each other, doesn’t it?” He murmured his words against her hair, sending tingles along her scalp that raced down her spine. Electricity was coiling in her veins, crackling across her nerves like a thunderstorm slowly building in the distance. “You fit so perfectly in my arms just like this.”

She smushed her face against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his skin, the lingering scent of his cologne that still clung to him, the smell of his shower gel from when he’d bathed the day before. Her stomach twisted to hear him say the very things she’d just been thinking, her heart fluttering like hummingbird wings.

He sketched a hand over her shoulders. “Why are you hiding?”

“‘m not hiding.”

“Yes you are. I can’t see your face.”

She sighed, peeling away to shoot him a glare. “I was comfy.”

“You mean you find comfort in my body?” He was grinning a little too widely, all mischief now.

“Actually on second thought I’m going to get up.” She started to wiggle away, only for Marius’ arms to tighten around her, yanking her back against him.

“You can’t go now,” he laughed, trailing his lips down the line of her jaw. “Not now that you’re here.”

She tried to struggle against him, but although his muscles were for vanity more than anything, he was still far stronger than her.

Marius laughed, falling back on the couch and rolling over, sandwiching her against his chest and the back of the couch. “You can’t escape now.”

She gave up her vain attempt at escape, slumping against his chest. “You’re so mean to me, Marius. You’re mean to your fiancé.”

He scoffed. “I’m wonderful to my fiancé. I show her how much I love her every night.” He brushed a kiss to her forehead, his words like embers on dried kindling, setting her alight. “I make sure she knows just how much I need her.”

“Well you’re teasing her now!” Her voice wobbled, and she pressed her face against his chest, not wanting him to see how her face was already burning. The heat in her core was so easily ignited by just the sound of his voice, just the ghost of his fingertips brushing against her upper thigh.

“Is that a crime?” He sounded amused, one hand brushing her hair back from the side of her face. “Maybe I just like how you look when you’re mad at me.”

Tension was coiling in her core with every stroke of his graceful fingers against her cheek, over the curve of her ear. She held herself very still, each breath shuddering out of her as she tried and failed to be silent. The dull ache between her legs grew, blooming with heat, the memory of those same fingers stroking the delicate skin at the apex of her thighs before plunging them inside of her, prepping her body for when he finally sank his cock inside of her.

The memory did nothing but make her face burn more, the embers of heat from his words turning to a wildfire in seconds, razing across her body until she was sure even the tips of her fingers and toes were flushed.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” he murmured, tracing the shape of her ear. “What are you thinking of?”

Rowan squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face harder against him. She didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking.

“Nothing,” she grumbled, twisting the fabric of his shirt in her fists. “I’m sleeping.”

He chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. “My apologies. Rest well my princess.”

The temptation to steal a peak at his expression was overwhelming, but Rowan knew she had to resist. He would surely say something else that would make her so flustered she would likely whimper without him having to put a single hand on her. From his tone and the way he was touching her now she suspected she was already heading straight for that, but she wanted to keep some of her dignity intact, and she hoped she wouldn’t start succumbing to his charms until after he’d coaxed her out of her clothes.

She really was still drowsy, too, and it would be so much easier to keep her eyes closed. And he was so warm, his heartbeat slowly lulling her back to sleep. Maybe all he wanted to do today was cuddle, maybe he just wanted to hold her close and let her sleep. Afterwards maybe they would watch a movie, or build a new Lego set. It was far too hot for a relaxing walk, although maybe it would cool down in the evening, or maybe they could go to the beach, or the new water-park that had just opened up.

“I hope you have pleasant dreams,” he cooed, rubbing her back gently. “I hope you dream of handsome princes just like the ones you’ve read about.”

She couldn’t help it, she cracked her eyes open, glowering at his shirt where she’d shoved her face. What was he on about?

He sounded like he was smiling, his tone taking on a sing-song cadence. She felt as he shifted against her, dropping his lips to her ear. “Princes just like in that romance novel you were reading, where you wrote that little note about how much you’d like me to do what he did.”

Hands splayed against his chest, Rowan shoved with all her strength, no longer asleep as she gaped at him. “Marius von Hagen! You were snooping through my book!”

He held his hands up in surrender, laughing so hard his cheeks turned the pink of newly bloomed peonies. “Guilty.”

“How could you?!”

He shrugged, looking anything but apologetic. “I was bored waiting for you to wake up, so I wanted something to read.”

“Since when do you read romance novels?!”

Another shrug, his smile wicked. “Not telling.”

It didn’t even matter that much, he could read whatever he wanted, but the implication that he’d read more romance novels. Likely her romance novels, as she hadn’t seen any owned by him when they’d moved in together. Which meant he’d read all of the little notes she’d made. The little hearts in the margins, the scrawling notes she’d made to herself in pink glitter gel pens whenever a romantic lead reminded her of Marius. The romantic lines she’d circled, the doodles of his face she’d made.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Marius started laughing harder, his arms tightening around her as if anticipating her imminent attempt to escape.

“Let me go!” She squirmed helplessly in his grasp, shoving at his chest as she tried to wriggle from his arms.

“I can’t let you go! I don’t want to!” He was laughing so hard, far too delighted in her anguish.

“You’ve been reading my books!”

“They’ve been giving me ideas!”

She pinched his side, earning a yelp. “Ideas for what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She would have continued her escape had he not started tickling her then, the hands holding her close suddenly finding all of the horrible little spots along her sides that made her giggle uncontrollably.

“Marius!”

He hummed, delighting in her torture as the strength in her arms and legs gave out, her getaway foiled. “I love the sound of your laugh, it’s like music.”

“You’re-” She gasped, unable to finish her sentence. Her lungs were constricting and she was far too breathless to speak.

“Handsome? Charming? Beloved?” He slowed his assault as he beamed down at her, listing off a myriad of compliments.

She drew breath, managing to shove his hands away for long enough to gasp out “so mean!”

Quicker than lightning, Marius was pouting, tugging at the hem of her sweater helplessly as she gasped for air. “I’m not mean to you. How could you say such a thing?”

She scowled, finally managing to crawl away from him and get up from the couch. “You were tickling me! You were teasing me!”

“I just wanted to see your smile.”

She arched a brow, seating herself in another small chair next to the couch. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she figured her bemused expression would be enough.

“Won’t you come back?” He was wiggling his shoulders, whining as he stretched out his arms towards her. “I miss my fiancée.”

Her heart lurched, her previous plight nearly forgotten in the face of such a pitiful expression. He was too cute for his own good.

“You should eat something,” she said, ignoring the tightness in her chest at his outstretched arms, his flushed cheeks, the way he looked so lonely sitting on the couch by himself. “I made you something to eat, it’s in the fridge.”

A glimmer entered his eyes then, his pout vanishing as he stood. “I can think of something else I’d like to eat first.”

She blinked. “You told me that you like when I make you things.”

“I do,” he bobbed his head, coming towards her. There was something different in the way he moved now, less playful. His smile turned wicked, his eyes dark as indigo. “I just think I’d like to start with dessert first.”

He knelt before her, his hands stroking her thighs. It took a moment for her confusion to wash away and realization to set in like the sun after a storm. He was already tugging her closer to the edge of the seat before it clicked, his hands on the button of her shorts.

“Marius.” She gasped his name, unsure of what else to say. Her heart thundered in her chest, her stomach twisting as heat raced through her, burning her veins as it reached for the knotted tension in her belly.

He lifted his brows. “What is it, my love?”

“Aren’t you tired?” Her voice was weak, her body already trembling. She wanted him to touch her so badly, wanted to feel his hands and lips and teeth on her skin. But surely he was tired, surely exhaustion weighed him down. And surely he was tired of her, and seeing every part of her. It was nothing new, nothing special. “Aren’t you tired of me?”

He chuckled, unbuttoning her shorts and dragging them down with painstaking slowness. “How could I ever be tired of you?”

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, where to put them as he drew her shorts down around her ankles before tossing them to the side. She ended up grabbing the edge of the chair, squeezing so tightly she was sure her nails would tear through the fabric. “But it’s been two days.”

“And?” He slid his hands over the inside of her thighs, spreading them apart as he moved closer. He was grinning so widely now, his teeth flashing in the light. “I could never be tired of you. Not ever.”

He lowered his head, brushing languid, gentle kisses against her inner thigh. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he breathed against her skin. “If I could spend every day with you just like this I would.”

Pressing one hand to her mouth to stifle a whine, Rowan struggled to breathe. He was moving closer to the apex of her thighs, his eyes flicking up to find hers as he sucked at her skin.

His breath ghosted over her, sending gooseflesh racing across her skin. She could feel his warmth through the thin cotton of her panties as his lips hovered over them, his gaze holding hers.

“I want to love you for the rest of our days,” he murmured, something in his eyes softening. “Won’t you let me love you?”

This time a whimper managed to escape from between her fingers, and she nodded her head, at a loss for words otherwise. Her heart was beating so quickly she feared it might give out on her altogether, the rush of blood in her ears so loud she almost didn’t hear him at first. She was still trembling, her nerves little more than phantoms of what they’d been before the last few days with him. But still she craved his touch, desperately needed to feel the way he loved her in such a tangible, animal way.

“Do you want me?” His eyes were still soft, his expression more loving than mischievous, but his tone was playful, teasing. He had her right where he wanted her, and he would draw this out as long as he wanted.

Perhaps it was from the fatigue that had been chasing her, or perhaps it was because of the haze her thoughts had become over the last few days they had spent tangled together. But Rowan didn’t bother dancing around his teasing, or pretending like her heart didn’t sing like a nightingale when he was near, or that her skin didn’t tingle with electricity when he touched her, or that she didn’t yearn for him like a lovelorn character in a novel when he was gone.

Of course she wanted him, and she would tell him so. She leaned forward, cupping his face as she rested her brow on the top of his head. His hair was so soft, the tips tickling her face.

“I want you,” she said, smiling as she buried a kiss in his messy hair. “I want you entirely, Marius von Hagen.”

She heard as he drew in a sharp breath, his arms tensing. She pulled away just enough to see the flush slowly spreading over his face and creeping beneath the collar of his shirt.

“What’s wrong?” She ran her fingers through his hair, twisting the longer strands around her fingers. She bit her bottom lip, fighting against her grin. “You’re all red. Are you feeling alright?”

Brushing his bangs back from his forehead, she pressed the back of her hand to his brow, humming as she pretended to be in thought. “You do feel a little warm.”

Even just the tiny bit of teasing made colour explode across his face like fireworks made of crimson and scarlet light. His eyes seemed to glow, bright amethyst against the candy apple red of his cheeks. He looked so sweet, kneeling before her with wide eyes. She wanted to take a bite out of his cheeks, wanted to see if it tasted as sweet as he looked.

“Don’t tease me, miss,” he whined, pouting just a little. Just enough that she wanted to lean down and catch his lips until they curled into a smile once more.

“I’m not teasing you.”

He huffed like a petulant child. “Yes you are!”

She had to look away, to avoid crumbling beneath the strength of his puppy-dog eyes. “I’m just genuinely concerned for your health.”

“If you were concerned for my health, miss, you would let me eat you out already.” He was still pouting, but his eyes were dark as indigo, no longer feigning innocence.

She was taken aback, her words failing her as she tried and failed to come up with something clever to say in response. But fatigue still blurred the edges of her mind, and desire was like fog cloaking her thoughts, leaving her lost in the forest of her own mind. All she knew was how close Marius was, how warm his breath was against her skin, how much she ached already; the memory of his touch like a brand on her skin.

“The only thing that will make me feel better is you.” His voice had dropped, softened as he held her gaze. His pout melted away, replaced by a subtle curl of his lips that made her core grow tight, her heart stumbling in anticipation.

Then he was moving, fast enough that she barely had a moment to gasp before he’d removed her panties from her body and he was spreading her legs as wide as he could. His tongue flicked over her, little more than a taunt, and already Rowan had to fight to hold herself steady so she did not fall over.

They were well past the point of knowing how easy it was for him to turn her into a desperate, needy mess, no matter how much she tried to hold herself together. It only emboldened him, and she would be subjected to his ceaseless teasing all while he kissed and bit and caressed her, drawing her so painfully slowly to her release.

Still, Rowan tried. Always felt a small surge of satisfaction when he resorted to pouting if she managed to hold herself together for at least a few moments. It was always short lived, Marius trying a new tactic, whether that be to swipe the flat of his tongue over the delicate flesh between her thighs, or sink his fingers inside of her to stretch her wide, or focus his attentions on her hips and her breasts and her neck, or kiss her until her mind was muddled and she was breathless.

It didn’t seem like this was going to be one of those times she was able to hold herself together. She could feel a whimper rising in the back of her throat already, electricity arcing across her skin the more he teased her. He kept his eyes locked on her, and she could see the edges of his smile from between her legs.

He blew a cool breath against her and she really did whine, needy for him to do more, to touch her more, to fill her with all the proof of his love.

But before he could do anything at all, the sound of his phone ringing cut through the air, slicing through the moment.

Marius reeled back, scowling as he stood, snatching his phone from the side table he’d abandoned it on when he’d come home days ago. Rowan slumped back against the chair, sweat clinging to her skin despite the air conditioning blasting through the penthouse apartment.

Even annoyed he looked adorable, and she was tempted to whine, to give him a reason to turn his phone on silent and pick up where he’d left off.

But that did not seem to be the case, and she watched as his expression darkened, as he muttered through clenched teeth to whoever was on the other side of the phone. His brow furrowed, his free hand clenching and unclenching.

After a few moments Marius gave a terse sign-off, his hand so tense around his phone she feared it would shatter in his hand. He glowered, looking ready to slam his phone against the floor, grumbling something she couldn’t hear.

“Is everything okay?” Anxiety was like cold water dousing the heat that had bloomed in her core. It cleared her mind, and suddenly she was pressing her hands to her chest, leaning forward to reach for him, wanting to hold him and ease whatever burden was weighing on him now.

His expression softened as he turned back to her, the hand gripping his phone dropping to his side. “Not really.”

“What do you mean?” She stood, started coming towards him before she remembered that she was half-naked. But before she could backtrack to retrieve her clothes Marius was reaching for her, taking hold of her hips and drawing her close.

His head drooped on her shoulder, his sigh tickling the skin of her neck. “Don’t go.”

She gave a nervous laugh, looping her arms around his neck. Although most of her desire had been extinguished just from the hushed tones of his voice as he’d talked to whoever had been on the other side of the phone, there were still kernels of heat that remained. That could be so easily reignited if he slid his hands any lower.

“What’s wrong, babey?” She ran a hand through his hair, dragging her fingers down the back of his neck as she massaged it gently. “What’s happened?”

He sighed again, nuzzling against her neck. “I have to go into work.”

Rowan gaped, tensing in his arms. He had to go into work? He had to go to the Pax head office?

Her voice was little more than a squeak as she asked “right now?”

The laugh Marius gave was dry, hollow. There was no humour in his voice, in his eyes, as he pulled away, meeting her gaze. “There’s been an emergency with an acquisition. Apparently even the shareholders can’t survive without me for more than a few days.”

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, burning as they turned the world to quicksilver. “What? But you still have time off.”

His smile was bitter as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “There’s no days off when you’re the CEO of Pax.”

She whimpered, gathering up her clothes and getting dressed again before following Marius back to their room. She helped him choose his suit, morosely securing his tie for him as he began checking his emails, grumbling about useless employees who couldn’t last even a day without his oversight.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, kissing the top of her head as he began buttoning up his jacket. “I don’t think this should take more than a few hours.”

“I don’t want you to go.” She sounded like a bratty child, whining when they were told it was bathtime and they had to clean up their toys, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want him to go; she’d pictured the next few days so perfectly, with him so close she would forever be able to smell the lingering scent of his cologne, that she would be able to feel the warmth that radiated from his body.

And instead he was leaving for work, to sit in his office and pour over documents and direct his employees as they tried to smooth over the wrinkles in their otherwise perfect plans.

He cupped her cheeks, his eyes full of regret. “I don’t want to either.”

“Can’t you stay?”

“I wish I could.” He rested his forehead against hers, his voice as whiny as hers now, too. “I want to stay with you, miss.”

Rowan couldn’t help sniffling, clutching him as tightly as she could, trying to keep him with her as long as possible. She didn’t want to let go, didn’t want him to leave for work. She’d taken all this time off to spend with him, and now he was the one being called into work.

She regretted crawling out of bed that morning, focusing on work when she could have been snuggling with him. If she could turn back time she would tell herself to wait, to relish in his body pressed against hers.

“It’s not like I’m going to be gone forever.” He was snorting, sparks of mischief in his eyes, like the glittering reflection of stars on the wavering surface of a lake. Bright, brilliant, but only a facsimile of true starlight, drowned out in moments by the deep blue of the water. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

His words did little to soothe the ache in her heart. She clung to him, listening to the clear sound of his laughter as he dragged her behind him through the apartment. “But I asked for all this time off to spend with you!”

“And you will,” he promised, smirking. He took one of her hands, lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Get some rest while I’m gone. You’ll need it.”

Warmth pooled in her core, and after more sweet, gentle words she finally surrendered, releasing him from her arms.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he leaned down for a kiss. “I’ll be thinking of you every moment I’m away.”

“Come back soon.” Her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him close, standing on her toes to meet his kiss.

She wished they could have stayed like that forever, but far too soon did he pull away, looking like there was nothing he regretted more than ending their kiss. “I love you, Rowan.”

And then he was gone, and she was alone in their apartment, the sound of the air conditioning whirring through the vents the only thing drowning out the silence.

***

Rowan felt aimless after Marius had gone. She’d finished up all her work, and she wasn’t keen on starting anything new when she was officially on vacation now. But that left her entirely idle, and she struggled to come up with a way to spend her time.

She tried reading a little more, although it was difficult to focus when she knew Marius had flipped through the book while she’d slept, no doubt absorbing the words to tease her with later. It didn’t help that the romantic lead really did remind her of Marius, and each scene he was in she was unable to picture anything but her fiancé. And then her heart would ache and she would have to set the book to the side until the tightness in her chest eased and she could carry on reading.

About halfway through the book she tried to do some light cleaning, but there really wasn’t much to be done. Both she and Marius shared a number of the usual household chores, and they hired a maid who came in once a week to do more of the deep cleaning.

After wandering around the apartment, retracing her steps over and over, Rowan finally settled on stripping the sheets from the bed and tossing them into the laundry. They had been in bed quite a bit, and the sheets were covered in dried sweat and other fluids that needed to be washed away.

But even that didn’t take particularly long. She just stuffed the blankets into the washing machine, leaving the ones that couldn’t fit on the floor beside it to wait for the next cycle.

The day passed in a blur, Rowan alternating through different activities as she tried wiling away her time. She watched a movie, then a few episodes of an old TV series she’d been binging. Then she tried playing one of the games Marius always teased her about when he was home, peeking over her shoulder and asking her if any of the love interests reminded her of him. She tried to crochet, a craft she had attempted to pick up months ago as a way to distract herself from work when she got home every night.

She even tried to sketch, although she quickly stuffed the small sketchbook she kept in secret back into its hiding place once she found herself staring down at a childish caricature of her fiancé. It was absolutely not something she could ever let Marius see, lest he use it as ammunition to tease her with. He would surely laugh, tease her about its silliness, and then tease her more about how much she clearly missed him.

Her cheeks were burning as she tucked it away, deep beneath more notebooks and papers in one of the drawers of her desk. When they had designed the penthouse apartment they had played with the idea of having shared offices, so when they worked from home they could work together. The idea had initially been delightful, but they had both realized they would only serve to distract each other from their work.

Marius was prone to pausing his work to watch her, teasing her every chance he got. And she was prone to getting up to wrap her arms around him, to perch in his lap and be enveloped by his warmth any chance she got.

So they ended up agreeing on smaller, separate offices across the hall from each other. Close, so they could find each other when the urge to be close overwhelmed them, but far enough away that hopefully there would be less distractions.

Rowan was thankful for their decision to have separate offices in that moment, knowing the likelihood of Marius ever finding her embarrassing little sketchbook was almost zero.

She plucked out a few chords on the guitar, ran her fingers over the keys of the keyboard tucked next to the window in their living room. She trilled her fingers over a few notes idly, humming as her eyes flicked over the sheet music. Marius’ desire to learn music had grown tenfold, and after they’d started guitar lessons together ages ago he’d started asking about other instruments. The piano had seemed like the best instrument to learn next, and so a state-of-the-art keyboard had been purchased, with all 88 keys that a standard piano had.

Rowan had taken to it quicker, having been familiar with it from when she’d been younger. Something always brightened in Marius’ eyes when she played, their amethyst light glowing like sunlight dancing in their crystalline depths. His smile would soften, his cheeks dusted the soft pink of the sky at dawn, before the sun cast its burning light across the world.

She found herself sitting at the bench, going over the sheet music for the song she’d started learning just before he’d left on his most recent business trip. She’d started it with the intent to play it for him when he returned, but the song became more complex the longer it went on, culminating in a collection of notes she did not yet have the skill to perform well before softening, its pace slowing as it ended.

Perhaps it was worth taking another look at it, for when he finally did return. She didn’t know all of the details about what had been so pressing he had been summoned to work, but he’d looked stressed as he’d gotten ready to leave. Maybe playing it for him, even just a little of what she had been able to learn, would help him to relax, to ease his mind after the stresses and anxieties that would be weighing on him when he returned.

Focusing on the sheet music was easy, her mind sinking into warmth as she went over the first page of the song, her fingers dancing across the keys after perfecting it. She played through those first lines a few times, until she had warmed up and her fingers felt pliant and stretched.

The next page was more difficult, although she was able to untangle the notes a little more each time she ran through the lines, until it almost sounded seamless.

Rowan continued on that way for over an hour, only pausing to stretch her arms skyward and grab something from the fridge to eat before returning. Her attention had finally been snared by something and she was loath to give it up when the alternative was to wander the empty apartment, peeking into all the empty rooms, wishing she would find her fiancé hiding in one of them.

The golden light of the afternoon caught flame, crimsons and burning oranges streaking across the floor as the sun began its descent. The drawn curtains seemed to glow from the burning light, shimmering from the heat. It was so brilliant she should have noticed as it softened, as the light turned to an orange haze that clung to the air, before melting away entirely.

Rowan’s eyes burned as she looked up, finally noticing how the room had been plunged into shadows. Her wrists ached, a dull throb echoing through her shoulders and upper back from how she’d been curled over the keyboard.

She huffed to herself, twisting around to scan the room. “Still no Marius,” she grumbled to herself, dismay heavy in her chest.

She’d thought he would have returned home by now, would have come in to find her playing the piano. In her mind she imagined it like a scene in a book, him creeping in, enchanted by the sound of the music no matter how stilted it was as she tried to learn the new combinations of chords. He would come up behind her, wrap his arms around her, rest his chin on the top of her head as he hummed, telling her how much he missed her. Then he would ask if he could try too, and their clumsy fingers would stumble over the keyboard until he felt relaxed, and then they would cuddle on the couch and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

But he hadn’t even called her since lunch, hadn’t even sent a text.

Dismay turned to sorry turned to cold despair. Maybe she needed to see a doctor for how much she missed him, maybe it was some side effect of spending so much time with his cock inside of her for the last few days.

Whatever the reason was, she missed him so horribly it hurt, like an infection spreading through her body, reaching oily fingers towards her heart.

She typed out a quick text, asking how he was doing, and could she call him? After ten minutes of staring at its screen she tossed it onto a chair and wandered away, the phone more silent than the dead.

So much for the romantic scene she had pictured in her mind, so much for surprising him with the music she’d been working on. She was greeted with the lonely apartment, shadows stretching long across the floor, draping over the rooms like a funeral shroud.

Padding through the apartment, she flicked on every light she could, humming to fill the void. She would just order some takeout, and she would watch a movie, and she would finish her book. Some days were just like this, Marius at work much longer than he anticipated, so swamped with paperwork and meetings he didn’t have time to check his phone.

She sent in an order from her favourite thai restaurant, mixing herself a simple cocktail while she waited for it to arrive. And then she went through all her favourite movies, trying to decide between a romcom or a fantasy-adventure or a comedy murder-mystery.

When the food arrived she made a nest for herself on the couch, taking a bite of creamy, spicy curry as she settled for the comedy murder-mystery. She wanted something fun, but romance didn’t seem to be the way to go with how her heart still ached.

Time flew by in a blink, her leftovers cooling on the side table as the credits rolled. Rowan’s eyes drooped, her head fuzzy. Her phone lit up from where she’d tossed it, but she was too comfortable where she was to get it. There were blankets and cushions and a few stuffed animals tucked around her, and she was loath to stand and disrupt her perfect nest only to see that the notification was for a game or an email.

So instead she chose a different movie, yawning as she settled back into her seat, music playing brightly as she watched a number of purported geniuses try to crack open a puzzle box in the opening moments of the movie.

She was asleep before the main characters were even introduced, her eyes closing without her even knowing, her dreams taking hold and drawing her mind from the fictional film to the nonsense of her unconscious mind.

She dreamed of Marius, of paintings that sang with the stilted melody she’d been trying to perfect every time she took a step towards it. She dreamed of his laughter and his hands in hers, of reading aloud while a mischievous smile curled on his lips like a crescent moon.

She slept through the entirety of the movie and its credits, and she did not wake to stop the autoplay from beginning a new movie afterwards. Scraps of the dialogue snuck through, turning the oscillating moments of her dreams into a cacophony of nonsense. Voices she did not recognize reaching through the ocean of her mind, echoing words she did not understand. Figures standing in the distance, calling out to her as they enacted moments from a movie she’d watched years ago.

The creak of footsteps cut through the mess of her mind, tugging at her consciousness like a hook bumping against a fish in the middle of the sea. Her mind had conjured up a beautiful, endless beach that swayed beneath her feet, and yet she heard footsteps echoing on hardwood all around her.

The pieces of the movies sneaking into her mind were cut away, her dreams turning to soothing ocean waves that rocked her beneath a starless sky. There was no loud, no sound, no voices to disturb her. Only the gentle darkness draping over her like her favourite blanket.

She wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly what it was that woke her. Maybe it was the footsteps as they crept away, followed by the squeaking of hinges as the bedroom door was opened. Maybe it was the crack of the laundry machine opening, or the huff of laughter at seeing how she’d forgotten to finish the sheets and the second load still needed to go into the dryer. Maybe it was the feeling of soft fingertips grazing her cheek, or the brush of lips against her brow.

It was small as a breath caught in her throat, as subtle as the brush of fluttering lashes against her cheek. And it was enough to rouse her from the gentle, rocking waves of sleep. The world around her grew tangible once more, the pillows soft beneath her cheek, the blankets fluffy and warm wrapped around her shoulders and tangled around her legs.

She expected the low murmur of the television, and her mind was slow to understand why the screen was dark. Had she turned it off in her sleep? Had it turned itself off?

But no, there were footsteps, there was the whirr of the dryer, there was light spilling from her bedroom, puddling on the floor. She shouldn’t have even been able to tell someone was in the apartment from the lights, not when she’d turned every light in her entire home on before she’d ordered her dinner.

Someone had come in and turned the lights off, turned the television off. Someone had run the dryer, the sheets she’d forgotten about finally warming and readying to get tucked over her bed.

“Marius?” She called his name softly, standing on shaky legs as she tried to regain her bearings. Her mind was still bleary from sleep, and she stumbled a few steps, off-balance from the fatigue still clinging to her.

She called his name again, creeping towards their bedroom. “Marius?”

There was the sound of shuffling feet, a stifled curse. She stepped into their bedroom just as he emerged from the walk-in closet. His jacket was abandoned, his tie askew.

“Miss, I thought you were sleeping.” He was pouting, sad that you had woken up. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Nearly every cell in her body was screaming to run to him, to fall into his arms and breathe in the smell of him and beg him to go to bed with her. And yet she resisted, anger rising like the flames of a forest fire.

“You were gone a lot longer than you said you would be.”

He sighed, mussing his hair as he ran his hand through it. “I didn’t realize it would take so long. I’m sorry.”

She pouted now, feeling hurt, feeling lonely. “You didn’t even call.”

“Did you miss me that much?” He chuckled, his brow arching, mischief in his voice. “If I’d known my sweet fiancée missed me so much I would have brought you with me.”

She scowled now; she didn’t want to play around, not when she was feeling so grouchy. She’d missed him, and he hadn’t even called. Hadn’t texted once since he’d taken a short lunch.

“I understand that sometimes your work is unpredictable and you have long days and a huge responsibility.” Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she struggled as she tried not to stumble over her words. She didn’t want to be cruel, but she had missed him. She had missed him so terribly and for once she really did not want to be teased for it.

He seemed to understand the shift in the room, that she was upset. Lines appeared on his brow and he stepped towards her, his teasing demeanor gone. “What’s wrong, love?”

She sniffled, not realizing her eyes were burning until she felt the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill out like an overfilled cup. She felt ashamed then, utterly embarrassed by how she was acting, like she was little more than a child. His position was important, it was important to his family, to all the people that worked for Pax, to him. Most of all, it was important to him.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, pulling her hair back from behind her ear, letting it fall over her face as she looked away. “I’m just tired.”

“It’s not nothing.” He moved closer, his tone gentle as a caress, soft as feather down.

She flinched when his hand brushed against her cheek, but that only emboldened him. He took her face in both hands, turning it so she had no choice but to look up at him. A line had formed between his brows, their edges turned up as he gazed down at her.

“You’re crying,” he murmured. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

“No I’m not.”

He chuckled, although there was no laughter in his eyes. They were soft, their amethyst darkened to an indigo that reminded her of a starless midnight. “As adorable as it usually is when you act bratty, I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you.”

She opened her mouth to retort that she was not acting bratty, but her words quickly fizzled away as he pushed her hair back, dropping a kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Tell me. Please. Let me help however I can.”

She sighed, crumpling against his chest for a minute, breathing in the lingering remnants of his cologne, of sweat, of the new soap he’d started using. She was being childish, silly. She couldn’t give form to the anxieties writhing in her belly.

But his arms tightened around her, drawing her closer, a silent plea to release what was trapped in the depths of her heart.

“Promise not to be mad?”

He stroked her hair. “I could never.”

She pressed her hands against his chest, twisting the fabric of his shirt into balls in her fists. She was wrinkling the starchy fabric, but she couldn’t find a reason to care. She was probably staining it too, with the tears that were managing to escape, but she didn’t care about that either.

“I missed you.” She felt helpless, vulnerable. The slightest of breezes could have knocked her over had any windows been open. “I had no idea when you were coming home.”

A sigh, so quiet she almost didn’t catch it. But the air conditioning cut out in that moment, and they were plunged into silence. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry.”

“I thought we would be on holiday together, just the two of us.” She squeezed tighter, not caring if she tore his shirt. He had a hundred more where it had come from, and she needed something to anchor herself. “And I understand sometimes work is unpredictable. But you didn’t even tell me when you were coming home.”

He was silent, stroking her hair as she fought around the lump forming in her throat to give the swarm of her emotions shape.

“I stayed up as long as I could, looking forward to when you’d be back. And you didn’t even call, or text, or anything. We’d planned to spend time together.”

She let out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes as she shoved her face against his chest as close as she could, wishing she could crawl into his skin and disappear. “I don’t know how else to explain it. I just. I missed you, I was lonely, I wish you’d at least sent me an update.”

He was quiet for a moment, the only sound their breaths tangling together and the beat of Marius’ heart against her cheek.

The air conditioning whirred to life again, gooseflesh rising on her arms and her bare legs. His hands moved from her hair, slowly rubbing up and down her arms, as if he knew she was growing cold. He nestled his head in the crook of her neck, his breath warming the skin there, sending tingles racing across her nerves.

“I understand,” he said at last, his words humming through her. She felt his lips moving against her skin, so close was he from where he had curled around her. “I was so focused on trying to get it all done I didn’t think to call you to let you know how things were going, but that’s no excuse.”

“I know it’s selfish of me.” She felt like a child, small and helpless as she voiced the wants deep in her heart. “Pax is important, your position is important.”

His arms curled around her waist, holding her close against him. “You’re important, too. You’re what’s most important to me.”

“I just wish you’d been here. I wish I’d heard from you.”

“I know.” He pulled away, cold air rushing over her in the space he had just been. He cupped her face once more, holding her steady so she could not look away as he met her gaze. “I won’t do it again, love. I’ll make sure to always call, even if it’s something small.”

Her hands snaked up to curl around his wrists, clinging to him like a lifeline. “Thank you, Marius. I’m sorry I’m acting this way.”

He clicked his tongue, a corner of his lips curling upwards. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I would be the same way. Although…” He trailed off, mischief brightening his eyes until they glowed again. “I would have asked you to make up for it.”

At that Rowan pulled away enough to smack him, frowning as he laughed. “You’re not funny, Marius von Hagen.”

“I’m not joking.” He took hold of her hands, holding them firm as she tried to squirm away, all the while his grin absolutely devilish. He leaned close, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “I would have asked you how you would make it up to me, Mrs. von Hagen. Starting with a kiss.”

She shivered as his teeth grazed her ear, followed by his lips at the curve of her jaw. “I’m not married to you yet.”

Her toes curled at the warmth of his laugh as he trailed kisses along the line of her jaw, his nose bumping against the bottom of her chin as he kissed her throat once, twice, three times. Her stomach churned, her blood warming as his lips lingered on her skin.

“But it just sounds so good, doesn’t it?” His teeth were grazing against her skin now, one hand burying in her hair to hold her steady. “Mrs. von Hagen. My wife.”

His tone was warm, coaxing fire into her veins with each soft word. Her knees felt weak, a haze descending over her that had nothing to do with the dredges of sleep still clinging to her.

She tried pressing a hand to his chest, tried gently pushing him away. “But we’re still not married yet.”

He groaned, his lips grazing the place where her pulse thrummed in her neck. “Why are you being so mean to me, miss?”

“I’m not being mean!”

He pulled away, pouting. “Are you trying to get your revenge?”

She balked, hands freezing. “What do you mean?”

“You won’t let me call you my wife.” his head drooped, his hands ghosting over her hips as if he was hesitating on whether or not he could touch her. “Even though that would make me happy.”

Rowan blinked, arching a brow as he continued to pout, gazing at her with such sorrow she would have thought it real if she didn’t already know him. For once she didn’t cave, reaching up to pinch his cheek until he laughed, trying to swat her away.

“You’re too cruel, miss.” He was still trying to pout, but he couldn’t hold back the little bubbles of laughter that fell from his mouth. The corners of his lips were turned up, reminding her of the moon. “I tell you an earnest wish and you pinch me!”

She pinched him again, biting the corner of her lip to fight against her smile as he yelped. “You can call me your wife as much as you want after we’re married.”

He laughed, not even bothering to escape from her clutches. “But I want to, now! And you can call me your husband.”

It did have a nice ring to it, but their wedding was still far away, and there was much they had to get through before they would finally be able to say their vows.

“I’m saving it,” she said, releasing his cheek. “For once we’re married. I want it to be special, I want our wedding to be special.”

For a moment, his expression was soft. He reached out, stroking her cheek, head tilted to the side as he mused aloud. “And it will be. It will be special because it will mean we’ll be together forever.”

She wanted to reach for him, wanted to tell him that of course they’d be together forever, she’d make sure of it. She never wanted to be parted from him, she wanted to face every day with him at her side.

But then Marius pinched her cheek, and all those sweet, romantic thoughts dissolved like cotton candy in water.

She glared at him as he laughed. “What d’you fink yur doin?”

He only laughed harder. “You’re so cute, miss. I don’t know how I managed to get through the day without you.”

She only glared harder, trying to swat his hand away. All that did was embolden him, and he started pinching her other cheek, her face smarting from his fingers tugging at her skin.

He only teased her for another moment before releasing her, catching her before she could smack him and brushing kisses to her cheeks where he had pinched her. “You’re just too adorable, I couldn’t help myself.”

Rowan huffed as he continued to chuckle, heading back into the closet to finish changing. So he was gone for the entire day, then he teases her afterwards?

He was still laughing, and her feet began moving of their own accord, following him into the closet.

He was just undoing his tie, and when he saw her at his heels his smile widened. “Did you miss me so much you want to stay with me while I change?”

“I think I do want you to make it up to me.” The words were out of her mouth before she could really think things through, which was probably a mistake.

From the sharp grin that sliced across his face, Rowan knew it had been a mistake.

His tie dangled from one hand as he stalked towards her, his eyes alight, hungry. “And how exactly would you like me to make it up to you, hmm miss?”

She hid her hands behind her back, not wanting him to see as they began to shake. She really should have thought this through. She had no idea what to say next.

“What can I do so you’ll forgive me?” He did not touch her, but he leaned so close, his teeth flashing in the bright light. “What can I do to please you, my love?”

No amount of hiding her hands or arms would be able to hide the way she was shaking. Her heart was stumbling like a child learning to run, her breath catching in her throat.

He lifted one hand, his tie still dangling from the fingers of his free hand. His thumb ghosted over her lips, one brow arching as she tried to find her breath. “Will a kiss be enough to sate you?”

Her head was already tipping back, the memory of his lips on hers making her needy. She wanted to feel them against her now, wanted to be wrapped up in his embrace.

“Or maybe you need something more.” Her mind was so hazy she almost didn’t catch that he was teasing her, that as much as his eyes looked starved for her touch, there was still mischief on his mind. “Maybe you want my mouth somewhere else.”

It wasn’t a question, and the memory of that morning, before he’d been whisked away to work filled her mind. Her clothes dragged from her body, his mouth against the delicate skin between her legs, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her core tightened, heat spilling deep in her belly. She did want him to use his mouth somewhere else, wanted to fall apart around him as he brought her to completion with nothing more than his tongue and his lips and his teeth.

But she wanted to do something else too, before they got to that. Something that would make up for all the teasing he’d subjected her to, all the waiting she’d done that day.

“Kiss me.” Her voice wobbled, her nerves alight. Nerves swarmed in her belly, churning like a whirlpool. She didn’t know if her plan would work, but she certainly would try.

His smile widened, his eyes narrowing as they focused on her lips. The hand on her face slid against her cheek, his touch featherlight. “Anything for you, my queen.”

At first his kiss was soft, so light she feared he was teasing her again. But then his lips were parting, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips. He groaned as she let him in, pressing closer. His heartbeat pulsed frantically, his bared chest pressed against her.

She could feel his smile against her lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. She felt breathless, struggling to draw air into her lungs as the kiss grew heated, her entire body catching flame from his lips on hers.

He was so focused on the kiss that he didn’t seem to register when she curled her fingers around his wrist, her other hand reaching up to cover the one at her cheek, tangling her fingers with his.

Sliding her hand down over his, she took hold of his tie, tugging at it, trying to be playful. Marius chuckled, his murmured question washing over her mind, lost as soon as his lips found hers once again.

She tightened her grip on the hand at her cheek as she twisted his tie around his wrist. It took her a moment to gather her courage, to hope he was distracted enough that she would get away with this before he caught on and turned the tables on her.

And then she yanked his hand from her cheek, pushing both hands behind his back as she shoved him backwards. He laughed, the sound so dizzying she could have been drunk on it. His back bumped against the wall of the closet and he gasped, lashes fluttering as he pulled away to stare at her.

A lazy grin stretched across his lips. “What are you plotting?”

Rowan didn’t respond, instead pushing his hands further behind his back, overlapping his wrists. He only laughed, the haze of lust in his eyes clearing, his eyes becoming sharp as she began tying his hands together, cinching the tie as tight as she could.

The corners of his eyes creased, his lips parting, his teeth seeming sharper in the too-bright light of the closet. “Now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“Oh hush.” She furrowed her brow, knotting the tie once, twice, hoping it was enough to keep him in place.

Marius only chuckled, leaning down to capture her lips once more. But where his previous kiss had been passionate and loving, there was something more intense about this one. Feral, needy. His teeth sank into the soft skin of her bottom lip, so hard he drew blood. He kissed with a ferocity he did not have before, like he was trying to overpower her, trying to bring her to her knees before him.

It would have been so easy to give in to his wants, to his overwhelming desires. But she’d managed to tie him up, she couldn’t stop now. Not when she had her own revenge to take.

With a strength she did not know she possessed, Rowan stepped away from him, pressing her palms flat against his chest to hold him back. “Nice try, von Hagen.”

He grinned, all devilish charm as he watched her from beneath his bangs, his eyes so dark they could have swallowed her whole. “What will you do with me now, my queen? It seems I’m at your mercy.” He wiggled his shoulders and flexed her biceps as if to make his point, showing that his bindings were holding.

She sucked on her bottom lip, the copper taste of blood flooding her mouth as she ran her tongue over the bite Marius had left behind. She hadn’t really thought she would get this far, and she hadn’t decided what she wanted to do next.

He took one step towards her, smirking as her mind whirred. “Is this your idea of revenge?”

She pushed him backwards again, but all he did was grin wider, tilting his head back, baring his throat as he stared down at her. She couldn’t let him get close or he would take control right away, with or without the use of his hands.

“Trying to play rough? Are you sure you can, my gentle queen?”

Huffing, Rowan crossed her arms, trying to draw herself up straighter, hoping she looked at least a little imperious. If he wanted a queen, then perhaps she could be one.

She pinched a button of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger, tugging on it. “I want you to do what I say.”

He cocked his head to the side, still more predator than prey, but she caught sight of the way his adam’s apple bobbed, how his eyes darkened. “What do you want me to do?”

She finished unbuttoning his shirt, until the broad expanse of his chest was fully on display. He heaved a deep breath, his skin glowing from the sweat that clung to him. She traced her hand over his torso, brushing the pads of her thumbs over his nipples, watching as he gasped again.

The self-possessed, over-confident grin was still plastered to his face, but she could see how it was beginning to tremble. His breaths were shaky, and his voice cracked as she circled his nipple again, keeping her touch light. “My love?”

She hummed, slowly pushing his shirt away, the sleeves pooling around his wrists where his hands were bound together. “I want you to stay still for a moment.”

He swallowed again, his eyes widening at her words.

“And quiet.”

He smirked, even as his flush spread from his cheeks over his chest. “You don’t want to hear any of the sounds I’ll make for you, love?”

She pinched his nipple then, and he gasped, his back slamming against the wall from the shock of her touch. Rowan had to bite back a grin, having never done something like this before. She’d teased him in the past, but tied up as he was, he really was at her mercy.

“No words.” Her voice shook, nerves making her stomach clench, but she pressed on, heat gathering in her core as he looked back at her with a wide-eyed, heated gaze. In that moment he looked like he would yield to almost any of her desires, and oh she wanted to test that theory.

Hands hovering over the skin of his chest, she found herself frozen. He continued to watch her quietly, his lips parted, his eyes dark as a starless night. They looked black in that moment, like she would be swallowed whole. She had no idea what to do.

Tremors went through her body as she leaned forward on her toes, kissing him as softly as she could. This she knew how to do, a kiss little more than a breath that would leave him gasping, desperate for more.

And he was. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and a whimper. He leaned forward, trying to deepen the kiss as much as he could.

But Rowan stepped back, pressing her hands against his chest and leaving distance between them, keeping him away.

His shoulders sagged, his eyes sorrowful. “Miss, please. Not even a kiss?”

This time she flicked his nipple, and he hissed, jerking back.

“I gave you a kiss.” Nervous giggles bubbled in her throat, and she had to swallow them lest she lose her nerve.

“That was hardly a kiss.”

Another flick, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek as he squirmed. “After how you left me all afternoon? You’re lucky you got a kiss at all.”

He pouted, slouching against the wall. “I said I was sorry.”

“And now’s your chance to prove it.” Nervous energy raced through her like lightning. She had to cross her arms around her belly to hold them still, but that did little to stop her from bouncing from foot-to-foot, a habit she had yet to break when she was restless.

He gave her a morose pout, his eyes fixed on her lips as he sighed.

She tipped her head to the side, furrowing her brow at his uncharacteristic silence. “Well?”

“You said I had to be quiet, so I’m being quiet.” There was a shit-eating grin on his face now, and she had the sudden urge to walk out and leave him tied up there while she went to bed.

Instead she heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation to fend off the headache already brewing from his mischief. “Marius.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, miss.”

“You don’t sound particularly sorry.”

The sharp points of his canines caught the light as he smiled. “Let me show you, then. I’m all yours, love.”

She bounced on her toes, chewing on her lower lip. Heat and tension were tangling together, coiling in her core. She drew in a steadying breath, cupping his face with both hands. “Promise?”

He arched a brow, smirking. “If you’re having second thoughts, love, I’d be happy to show you how sorry I am some other way.”

Sliding her hands up into his scalp, she combed her fingers through his hair, feeling the silken strands against her skin. She stayed quiet, moving closer as she played with his hair until there was barely a breath between them. And then she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, yanking his head back, baring his throat for her.

He let out a shuddering breath, the whites of his eyes stark against the indigo his irises had become. He swallowed, tense as she held him firm, standing on her toes to press a chaste kiss to the place where his pulse thrummed in his throat.

“Miss…?” He sounded breathy, a small gasp following his unfinished question.

She didn’t answer, trailing kisses up his neck, keeping them small, teasing. It would leave him wanting more, desperate for her touch. She dug her fingers into his scalp, scraping them down to the nape of his neck, keeping them tangled in the soft baby hairs that curled there.

It didn’t take long for him to whimper. The sound was small, nearly inaudible above the rush of blood in her ears and the pound of her heart. Her ribs felt bruised, like they were cracking beneath the pressure of her heart with every frantic pulse. But she couldn’t stop herself now, not as she brushed a kiss to the corner of his lips once, twice, drawing away when he tried to turn his head, tried to meet her lips.

“Try to stay still,” she said, tightening her grip in his hair, pulling his head back again. “Okay, babey?”

He closed his eyes, his bottom lip quivering. His chest was stained the scarlet of dusk, the crimson of a wildfire. She loosed one hand from his hair to trail over his chest, feeling how warm his skin had become. He let out another quivering breath as she rested her palm over his abdomen, barely an inch above the waist of his jeans.

Her blood felt like fire, her senses choked out by the smoke of the flames catching on her bones and nerves. She was becoming a wildfire, and she didn’t think there was anything that could douse her fire.

While Rowan stroked her thumb against the plane of his abdomen, Marius squirmed, his eyes turning to gemstone flames, so bright they could have burned her where she stood. He rocked his hips forward, but all that got him was another sharp tug in his hair, pulling him back into place.

It was not something Rowan knew she could keep a good grip on, not when Marius was so much taller than she was. She had to stand on her toes to press her lips to his, she could hardly keep her hands tangled in his hair and hope to keep him in place. Already her biceps burned from holding her arms up, and surely there was a better way to do things.

She scraped her nails over his scalp once more, and Marius’ eyes fell closed as he gasped, his mouth falling open like he was finally giving in a little more. She drew her hands down the back of his neck and over his shoulders, sliding them down to his chest, resting her palms against his pectorals.

“Lean down for me.” It wasn’t a question, and for once he made no insolent comment. He only stooped lower, until his face was hovering before hers. She could see the sweat clinging to his skin, the desperation mingled with hope in his eyes.

He tried closing the distance, but when their lips touched she sank her teeth into his bottom lip. Against her better instincts, she kept her eyes open, and was rewarded for it when Marius’ eyes flew open, wide as saucers. She ran her tongue across the plush skin of his bottom lip, tasting blood before she withdrew.

The colour of his cheeks deepened, a red more vibrant than the finest of rubies. He looked ready to try again, but Rowan began to stroke his chest, slowly circling a finger around one nipple while the other slid up to his neck, gently pressing her thumb against his pulse. It distracted him, and she watched as his eyes turned glassy, ragged breaths coming from his parted lips.

She turned her attentions to his jawline, to his throat. Leaving delicate, chaste kisses was fun, listening as he whimpered, feeling every time he tried to grind his hips against hers. But she wanted to do more, wanted to see how far she could take things.

Gentle kisses turned fierce, replaced by bites that elicited sweet gasps each time her teeth scraped against his skin. She didn’t want to draw blood, but she wanted each bite to tear him apart, little by little, wanted to leave a mark on his skin that would not fade for days.

“I hope you have plenty of high-necked shirts,” she murmured against his skin. She nipped at the skin below his ear, his shaky breaths tangling in her hair.

He groaned, arms tensing as he tried to pry himself free from his bindings. “Miss, please…”

“Be a good boy for me, Marius.” She was starting to have too much fun with this, listening to his whimpers at her words. She could feel his bulge every time he tried to move against her, growing harder with every passing moment. She could give him some relief, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to just yet. “Won’t you be so good for me?”

A growl of frustration sounded from the back of his throat, and for that she flicked the nipple she’d been so tenderly stroking.

But that seemed to just embolden him further, and he tried to bring his lips to her throat, to drag his teeth over her skin.

She pulled away immediately, frowning as he smirked. “You’re not being good at all.”

He wiggled his shoulders, looking utterly pathetic as he pouted. “Miss, please. I want to touch you.”

Rather than responding, she only stepped further away, clicking her tongue as she surveyed him. Heat was sinking deep within her belly, and the urge to press her thighs together was becoming too strong to ignore for much longer. But she knew that if she made any move to show that, Marius would certainly find a way to regain control, bound hands or not.

If she teased him further she might render him senseless, but how was the question. What sweet spot did she find that would turn him to putty in her hands until she’d had her way?

Marius stalked forward, sensing her indecision. He was still pouting but his eyes were sharp as knives. “What’s wrong, miss?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” He was close, too close. The heat of his skin leached into her palms as she pushed them against his chest, holding him back. “You know if you let me, I can make you feel good.”

She was far too aware of exactly what he was capable of. Of what his long, slender fingers and his wicked mouth could do to her when given the chance.

And she was not keen to give him the chance.

She laughed as he wiggled closer, slumping over until his forehead met her shoulder. Her hands made their way to his hips, holding them back as he tried to grind against her. A string of whimpers bubbled from the back of his throat, his teeth nipping at her throat.

“That’s not really part of my plans right now.”

Amused, he peeled away to look at her. “Then what is?”

Her fingers brushed against the waistband of his pants and she knew then, what she could do next.

She drew her hands along his hips, meeting just below his navel, a hairsbreadth from his zipper. He was already so hard had she dropped her hand any lower she probably could have brought him to completion there. But instead she only stroked him lightly, his face screwing up, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he tried to hold back a pitiful whine.

He tried rocking against her hand, but she pulled it away, tracing her hands over his chest instead, following the contours of his muscles. She sketched her hands down, down, until she was stroking small circles around his navel with one hand, the other playing with his zipper.

“How did that feel?” She pulled the zipper down slowly, the sound slicing through the near silence of the moment. “Do you think it’s worth being a good boy now?”

Where his eyes had been wide before, now they were lidded, half-closed. His mouth parted, a quiet moan falling from his lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She took both hands now, quickly unzipping him the rest of the way and dragging his pants from his body, instructing him when to lift his feet so she could toss them to the side.

His arousal was much more evident now, not only in the flush that burned across his cheeks and over his skin, but in his briefs, a wet spot spreading from where his tip pressed against the fabric.

She couldn’t help shifting from foot-to-foot again, feeling like her body was being drawn taut. Marius was watching her with raised brows, each rise of his chest and each breath from his lips more erratic than the last.

It would be so simple to drag down his waistband and wrap her hand around his cock, to lick around the tip until he writhed before slowly drawing it into her mouth. And she wanted to, and she would. But she wanted to go slow, wanted the need to bloom in him like a flower unfurling magnificent petals beneath the golden spring sun.

She did tease him a little though, dragging her hands along the insides of his thighs, circling her finger around his tip quickly before pulling away, sinking her nails into his skin as she drew them over his shoulders, down his chest.

Her movements had to be slow, languid. And every time he whined she would pinch him, his nipples, the inside of his thighs. She kissed him gently at first, her hands pressed against his stomach, feeling each shuddering breath in her bones as she kissed down his chest. Soft at first, then harder, spurred on by the desperate sounds that came from his lips.

He sounded sweet as sugar and she could taste it on her lips as it melted like cotton candy. Each feeble moan a new song she wished she could capture in the notes of the piano, in the chords of the guitar. He had not abided by her demand that he stay silent, but in truth she hadn’t expected he would. It made each gasp from his lips all the prettier each time she pinched his inner thighs, each time she bit so hard she tasted blood as she swiped her tongue across the reddened skin.

She took her time as she dragged kisses over his chest, practically kneeling as she sucked and nipped at the skin of his abdomen. He trembled as her breath ghosted against him, gooseflesh racing across his bared skin. There was something so delightful about it she couldn’t help but smile, breathing soft words to him whenever he stayed still like she wanted.

Then she was rising once more, pulling far enough away to survey her work, the angry red marks across his skin, the scratches over his chest. He was panting, skin glistening with sweat. The bright lights that shone overhead made it look like he’d been encased in crystal, like he was the main exhibit in a museum of all her deepest desires.

There was still energy coiled beneath his skin, and she caught sight of his arms straining, a muscle flicking in his jaw. He was still trying to pry himself free, still trying to break down her defenses.

She caught his lips with hers, humming as he moaned. She let him rock his hips against hers, a shock of lightning arcing across her nerves. She tasted smoke on her tongue as it singed her senses, as embers were fed to the smouldering fire deep in her body. Desire was hot in her veins, each of her movements liquid, with only the pulse between her thighs solid. It was an ache that cut through the ocean of desire that had flooded her, that drowned every cell of her being.

“How are you feeling, my love?” She asked, brushing kisses to the corners of his lips, reaching up to sink her fingers into his hair, hold his face closer so she could kiss the corners of his eyes, his brow.

He drew in a ragged breath. “G-good.”

“Hm?”

He whined. “Feel good.”

She nibbled his ear. “Who feels good? You?”

“Rowan, please.”

“Please what?” She didn’t pull away. She was having far too much fun kissing him, alternating between sweet kisses and sharp bites. She traced her fingers over his skin, down his chest, over his shoulders, up and down the back of his neck. She reached as far behind him as she could, raking her nails across his skin as he shivered. “Tell me if you feel good, babey.”

He gasped, his eyes flying open to fix on her. “I’d feel much better with my cock inside you.”

She pinched the inside of his thigh, just below his bulge. “Try again.”

His head dropped, his bangs hiding his face. “I want you.”

“I’m right here, love. I’m right in front of you. Is this not enough for you?” To punctuate her point she sucked at his neck where his pulse fluttered like the wings of a bird in a storm.

He growled. “I want more.”

She laughed. “Feeling greedy today, are we?”

Now she flicked his nipple, once, twice, his body tensing. She gave him a moment before she brought her mouth to it, swirling her tongue around it, soothing the sharp pain.

“I’m always greedy for you.”

She pulled her mouth away with a pop. “It didn’t seem that way today.”

“Miss, I said I was sorry.” He threw his head back, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

She quirked her mouth to the side, surveying her work. He wasn’t anywhere near spent, but he was trembling, whining from every one of her delicate touches. The dark spot on his briefs had spread, a testament to how needy he was. Warmth spread between her thighs as a dull ache bloomed in her core, her own self control beginning to fray.

She wanted him too, wanted to touch every piece of this man. She wanted his skin against hers, wanted him deep inside of her until she fell apart too.

Not yet. A little voice whispered in the back of her mind, giving her pause. He’d made a mess of her the last few days, wasn’t it fair to offer him the same?

A wicked idea came to her mind then as she eyed the lovemarks on his stomach, scattered over the soft skin of his abdomen, just above his waistband. A faint line of azure hair trailed down his stomach, disappearing below the waistband of his briefs. She traced her finger along that line, idly stroking his skin as she turned the idea over in her mind.

“Lean against the wall,” she said at last. It wasn’t a question, and Marius did not argue as he stepped back. He did however smirk, his eyes sharp.

Rowan ignored it, knowing that look would not last long after what she was planning.

The last scrap of clothing covering his body was gone in a few moments, and then he was standing bare but for the shine of the silver chain at his neck, grinning from ear-to-ear as her attention snagged on his erection.

“Something caught your eye, love?” He gave a raspy chuckle. “Anything I can help you with?”

Her mouth was dry, her tongue sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. “I think you might be the one that needs help.”

“Are you sure about that?” He looked smug, his tone growing even. “Because you’re still wearing all your clothes, and I could fix that for you.”

She moved closer, sliding her hands up his chest, running the pad of her index finger over his silver chain. It was stark against the flush of his skin, a beautiful red she had no name for. She wondered if he’d ever painted with a colour like that, if he mixed his reds and blacks until he found this perfect shade. If he used it for sunsets, sunrises. If he used it to brighten the petals of wildflowers in spring.

She wrapped her fingers around the chain, stroking the “Z” pendant with her thumb. “Maybe I want to stay dressed.”

“Are you cold?” He arched a brow, his eyes dark and devilish, his voice warm and sultry. “I can warm you up, miss, if you let me.”

Heat flared in her cheeks, the tension in her belly growing. She could feel the dampness at the apex of her thighs spreading, but she had to ignore it. She would be giving Marius too much satisfaction if she caved now, if she crumpled in the face of her own desire.

“You talk too much,” she murmured, tugging on his necklace.

He smirked. “I could put my mouth to better use. If you’d like, miss.”

There was no ignoring his erection, how hard he was after all her delicate ministrations. And when she pinched the inside of his thigh, hard, hopefully hard enough to see stars, it seemed to throb, the tip glistening with precum.

She trailed one hand up his chest, keeping her touch light enough that it would feel like a breath against his burning skin. “Do you want me to keep touching you, babey?”

His eyes darkened, his breath catching. “I do.”

“Can’t you be a good boy for me then?”

He looked like he was considering her words for a moment before he gave a sharp shake of his head. “No.”

“Marius.” She wasn’t trying to be sensual now, irritation a sharp burn spreading beneath her skin. “You aren’t even trying though!”

He shrugged. “It’s not in my nature.”

“Do you even want to do any of this?” She drew her hands to her chest and stepped away, fatigue wearing away at the edges of her mind. Maybe this wasn’t what he wanted at all, maybe she was pushing him too far and he was trying to make her understand he wasn’t interested in this kind of play.

Some of the heat in her face faded, replaced by the acrid taste of embarrassment. “Am I misunderstanding? Is this even what you want to do right now?”

The light in his eyes guttered, his face paling. “Rowan, what’s wrong?”

She hesitated, shuffling her feet. “I can’t tell if you want to keep going.”

A crease formed in his brow and he came forward, looking like he would have cradled her in his arms had he not still been bound. “It is, of course it is. Are you not having fun?”

“I am…” Heat crept back into her cheeks, but there was a heaviness in her chest that hadn’t been there before. “But I don’t know if you are.”

“I am, my love,” he insisted, ducking his head to meet her gaze. He held it for a moment, quietly, before nuzzling against her throat. “I am, I’m only playing.”

She chewed her bottom lip as she turned over his words. “But you always act this petulant. It’s hard to tell.”

“Don’t you trust me, miss?”

His words were whisper soft against her skin, and she shivered as she nodded.

“Then keep going.” A pause as his breath shuddered. “Please?”

He peeled away from her, his head lowered so he peered at her through the fringe of his lashes and his messy bangs. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Again she bit her lip as she fought against her smile. “You’ll be a good boy for me?”

Colour stained his face once more, the soft pink of a flower petal unfurling at the first breath of spring. “I will.”

“Then stay still.” She shifted from foot-to-foot, building up her nerve once more. “Or else I won’t let you feel good.”

“Yes, miss.” He licked his lips. “I’ll try.”

She dragged her hands up his chest, trying to bring herself back into the moment they’d been in before. Tracing the bite marks on his chest and throat with her lips and tongue, circling the pad of her fingers around his nipples, pinching them until he groaned.

He was more subdued now, his eyes bright once more, his breaths sharp. He stayed still, as still as he could as he trembled beneath her languid touches. But this was a gift from him to her, to apologize, to let her torture him as she wished. For a little while, anyways.

And she did, savouring in the give of his skin beneath her hands when she touched him, in the warmth that blossomed when she kissed him. Colour bloomed where she dragged her nails, the vibrations of his groans resonated deep in the hollows of her bones.

Only then, once she was satisfied in how pliant he had become, how much he whimpered beneath her touch, did she dare to track her hands down again. To stroke lazy circles around his navel until he shivered, his hips bucking.

“Miss?”

“Be patient.” She kept her voice light, airy as birdsong. She hummed, hoping it masked her own nerves as she drew her hands lower, as she circled one hand around the base of his cock, slowly dragging it up.

His shoulders shook, breath shuddering from his lips. For all his previous mischief he did stand as still as he could, and Rowan forgave him for the twitch of his hips as she stroked him.

“How’s this feel?” She pressed her thumb against the vein running on the underside of his cock. Concentration was etched on his face like a half-finished marble statue, his breaths coming out in short gasps. She could see how he was trying to hold himself steady, how he was trying to stay calm. But the more she touched him, slowly grazing her thumb over his tip, smearing precum over him as she caressed him, the more he was falling apart. Each touch chipping more stone from him, his resolve flaking away. “Do you feel good?”

Shoulders curling, body stained red from desire, heart beating the tempo of a symphony, voice as sweet as a melody with every sigh and moan that fell from his lips. Marius was heartbreaking in that moment, the kind of art that reached into your heart and tore the veins and arteries away, blood pooling in the bottom of your ribcage, spilling from between the cracks as it flooded your body. Her own heart ached, her bones cracking from how the feeling swelled inside of her as he whined.

Pathetic and beautiful were one in the same as he leaned forward, forgetting that she had asked for quiet as he asked her to touch him more, to please go faster, to please let him feel good because this was far from enough.

And he was right, it was far from enough, it wasn’t anywhere close to enough. He groaned, a low, rumbling sound in the back of his throat as she sped up her movements for the briefest of seconds. His eyes were still open, if only barely, his irises like shards of amethyst inlaid in golden jewellery.

He looked like everything she had ever wanted, everything she would ever want. Rowan wanted more of him, more of the sounds from his lips, more of his rasping breaths each time she gripped him just a little tighter.

When she told him to stand up straighter he did, even as he shivered. When she told him how handsome he was he murmured a quiet thank you, trying to crack one of his mischievous smiles. And when she told him how good he was being he whimpered, his smile falling away as his hips rocked forward.

Rowan tried to keep her touch as light as she could, trying to draw out the sweet song of his love and his desire. It was clear how he fought to keep himself steady, to keep his eyes open just as she asked, to hold onto his mischief until she was satisfied, but he was beginning to fall apart now. He was a crumbling tower, the bricks and concrete that had been used to build up its walls turning to sand and dust as even the foundation became nothing more than a memory.

This melody would not play for much longer, this work of art she had wrought herself veiled and hidden away. Already she could feel it ebbing like the tide, like memories lost to the sea of life.

She slowed her strokes then, loosened her grip. Her hands still grazed him, still made him moan, but she could feel how it held him in this feeling, this moment. His heartbeat did not grow more frantic, his breath did not become more harried. The pulse of his cock slowed, his release held at bay for a little longer.

“Rowan.” Not miss, not love, not even queen. He said her name like a prayer, a supplicant before his goddess.

There was more he wanted to say, she could tell from how his mouth opened and closed, the words lost in the forest of his mind, never escaping to his swollen lips. Instead he said her name again, whispering it at first, growing louder as his frustration grew, trapped as he was just before the tipping point.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t turned on, the wetness between her legs getting harder and harder to ignore. He was so close to her, and she could imagine the feel of his cock sliding inside of her, accompanied by his pitiful moans as his hips rolled against hers.

Her body was drawn taut as a bowstring, vibrating in anticipation of striking her prey. She was both archer and bow, hunter and weapon. But she had to stay her hand. She could not yet loose her arrow and strike, not when he was trembling so beautifully, not when his voice sounded so pretty each time it hitched, caught on his breath like a hook.

Finally, he managed to draw up the word from the dredges of his mind, caught between a moan and a whimper as he breathed “Faster. Please, faster.”

And so her movements slowed, her hand so loose around his cock it could have been mistaken for a ghost, a specter of lust that haunted his dreams.

Marius whimpered, crystalline tears softening the colour of his eyes until they were lavender pale, the tears gemstones instead. Liquid diamonds were what pooled above his dark lashes, slipped down his cheeks and puddled in minuscule lakes at their feet.

He was grinding his teeth, a muscle ticking in his jaw. It had been a while since he’d last fought against his restraints, but she could see how his muscles strained, how he squirmed in an effort to get his hands free.

“More.” He wasn’t begging, not yet, but she could see a manic gleam in his eyes, a sharp-edged desperation that would cut through the last of his pride so long as she held out a little longer. Just a little more, just a little longer.

She drew her hand up, up, then down again, all the way to the base of his shaft, the dark hair that gathered there tickling her skin before she moved it again. Marius’ eyelids drooped, then snapped open, like he was fighting with himself to stay focused, alert. He tried fixing his needy gaze on her.

“Rowan please. I need more.”

Biting her lip, she moved slower still, coaxing a cry from his lips.

“If you want more then you’re going to have to do it yourself.” She narrowed her eyes just a fraction, curling her lips as he stared at her, hair plastered to his face with sweat, the tips darkened to a midnight blue.

“Miss…”

She moved closer, pressing her lips to his throat, dragging her teeth across his skin, moving her hand so slowly she knew she was driving him mad. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?”

He stiffened, his breath coming in short gasps as she peppered kisses over his shoulders, his throat.

“You know how to make yourself feel good, right?” She had to bury her face against him for a moment to hide her smile. She’d teased him back before, but never had she teased him quite as much as she was now. It felt almost euphoric, excitement billowing like spun sugar smoke, twirling like coloured stripes on fruit-flavoured candy sticks. “You can’t expect me to do everything for you.”

It was less than a breath, not even one grain of sand slipping yet from the hourglass of time before he started to move. Tried to move, at the very least. The position he was in made it hard, standing as he was with her hand wrapped so loosely around his cock.

His hips rocked forward, a heartbreaking whine clawing up his throat. There was only so much he could do, only so far he could move. There wasn’t enough friction, and standing as he was he could not arch his back much, could not move quickly enough to bring himself any closer to his release.

Desperate pleas fell from his lips, and Rowan smiled as she listened, humming as she moved her hand in time with his weak thrusts, making sure her hand never connected to his hips when he wanted it to. She slid her free hand over his chest, dragging her nails across his skin to keep him focused, to keep his release from him. She lowered her mouth to his chest, swirling her tongue around his nipple, relishing in the sound of his pleas turning to wordless moans.

She blew a cool breath over his skin before returning her attention to his throat, his jaw. One hand loosely pumping his cock as he tried to bring himself closer to the edge, the other hand trailing over his shoulder, reaching behind his neck. She twisted her fingers into the silken baby hairs that curled at the nape of his neck, tugging at them as he moaned.

Where before he had looked like art, sounded like music, now all he reminded her of was sin. The colour painting his cheeks was too deep to be holy, his lips too bruised to be blessed. The sounds he made did not belong in an angel’s choir, nor were his movements divine. But this had never been about reaching elysium; heaven was not built for the kind of love they were sharing now.

This was flesh and fire and blood and sweat. This was the taste of salt, the tang of copper, the heady rush of blood so frantic it felt like wine. This was heat crackling at their edges until they curled, until they burned. Every breath drawn, every movement no matter how small. All of it so painfully human, they were bright as stars and their light would burn out just as quickly.

But for now they were alive, and Rowan was drunk on his skin, on his voice, on his body beneath her hands.

Marius’ moans turned to senseless babbling, more frustrated tears streaking down his cheeks, his face seeming to shimmer in the light.

“What is it?” She kissed away his tears, salt on her tongue.

He could not say, his meagre attempts at rocking his hips forward stalling out, his chest heaving.

“You’ve been so good,” she stroked his cheek, pushing his hair back from his face. “Such a good boy.”

His eyes were glossy, dazed. He looked like he did not have a grip on reality any longer, lost to the tides of desire. Still they managed to meet hers, listening carefully as she spoke.

“I think you deserve something nice.” She pulled her hand from his cock, settling her palms on his shoulders as he gave a weak cry.

He lifted his head, his eyes clearing, a wrinkle forming between his brow. He did not speak, he only gazed at her, confused.

“Sit down,” she murmured, stroking his cheek while she pressed down on his shoulder with her other hand. “Sit, my love, I have something for you.”

Marius all but toppled to the ground, his back smacking against the wall as he gazed up at her, eyes starry with devotion.

She knelt beside him, cupping his face in her hands. He was precious, undoubtedly the most precious thing in her world. The softness of his lips beneath her fingers made her heart lurch, stumble like a child taking their first steps. Would there ever come a day where she would have enough of him? Where she would not be enamoured with even the littlest of details etched across his being?

“I love you,” she murmured, bringing her lips to his. She wanted to kiss him gently this time, wanted to savour the feeling of his lips against hers. No teasing, no games. Just their lips and tongues and teeth and the sound of Marius’ breath as it devolved into needy pants.

She smiled at that, breaking the kiss to drop a delicate one to the corner of his lips. “You’ve been my good boy.”

A high-pitched whimper escaped his throat, vibrating through the air like electricity before a storm. It made Rowan smile, and she caught his eye, hoping he knew how much she loved him. How precious he was to her, how pretty he sounded, each sigh and moan and whimper a symphony she would gladly see every night.

The corners of his lips quivered, like he was trying to smile. Trying to regain some of his composure, but it was far too late for that.

She kissed him again, equally as gently, delighting in the softness of his lips, in how they parted so obediently for her, in how he sighed as she kissed him.

He looked sad when she pulled away, but she only tucked his hair back from his face, murmuring softly that he would feel good soon. It did little to make his morose expression shift, at least not until she knelt between his legs, lowering her head until her lips hovered just above the head of his cock, the same bright pink of his cheeks. Only then did his eyes widen, his mouth fall open into an O as she held his gaze fast.

First, she slowly blew a cool breath onto him, watching as his face screwed up, as he squirmed. His bottom lip was quivering, his eyes watering already, and he managed a quiet plea, a crackling “please, Rowan,” that sounded of kindling beneath flame, of sacrifice before a goddess.

She wrapped her lips around him, listening in satisfaction as he hissed. She swirled her tongue around his tip, the salty taste of precum filling her mouth with every swipe of her tongue. A stream of moans came from his lips, her name tangled amongst the nonsense that spilled from him as he squirmed. His hips jerked upwards, but she placed a hand on his abdomen, pressing him back to the floor.

She could have scolded him then, but that would mean sitting back, pressing pause on the moment, and she was having far too much fun already for that. Marius was squirming, helpless with his hands still bound as she took him into her mouth as deep as she could, using her free hand to stroke the rest she could not fit. With each flick of her tongue he cried out, bucking his hips more erratically, his body craving release.

Each time she drew back, sliding her lips back up his shaft, she made sure to catch his gaze, to hold it as she sucked his cock, as she ran her tongue over the head as he pulsed in her mouth. Sweat coated his body like a second skin, shining silver in the light. He looked inhuman, his head thrown back, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, eyes half-closed as he stared at her, unable to look away.

His eyes tracking her every movement, his flushed chest rising and falling with every erratic breath, his trembling lips as another groan escaped into the air. It was all becoming too much even for her, the tightness in her core drawn so taut she felt as though she would snap at any moment. His cock felt so good in her mouth, stretching her lips as she took her time moving her head, licking and sucking until he squirmed.

He felt big, so big and good it was hard to hold back her imagination as it reminded her of how much better it felt inside of her, how good it felt to be stretched wide around him as he sheathed himself inside her body until their hips connected.

Her panties were well and truly ruined, even though Marius had not even touched her tonight. But he didn’t have to, not when the sounds he was making and the feel of his burning skin beneath her palms and the throb of his cock in her mouth were setting fire to her veins. Her bones were crackling, splintering like kindling beneath a wildfire. Heat coiled deep in her belly, her body so tight she felt like she could snap at any moment.

Above her Marius was still whimpering, still bucking his hips as she moved her head, as she slid her tongue along his length, through the slit at the throbbing head of his cock until he cried out. Rowan moaned as she took him deeper into her mouth, letting out a long, shuddering breath so he knew just how much she was enjoying this too.

It seemed to only stimulate Marius more, and as she licked back up his shift he lifted his hips, trying to have more, feel more.

This time she did pull away fully, pouting. Marius squirmed awkwardly, eyes dark as midnight.

“Don’t move.” She’d wanted to whine, but it came out breathless instead. But Marius’ response was the same, a breath escaping his swollen lips, enthralled by what he saw on her face, heard in her voice.

“I just want you,” was his response, sitting up straighter as if to reach for her. “Please.”

She stroked his cock slowly, squeezing tighter, watching his body shudder, feeling her own body tighten around nothing, imagining he was deep inside of her, stretching her trembling walls wide with every thrust of his hips.

“And you have me,” she said at last, bringing her lips back to him, kissing along the underside of his cock. As he struggled to breathe she squeezed his balls, groaning around him as he hissed in pleasure, panting from the touch. She drew away with a pop, holding his gaze as steadily as she could, aroused as she was by his pretty sounds, by how he responded to even the smallest of touches. “You feel so good, Marius. Let me go a little longer, my love. You’re so close.”

He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, swallowing as he tried to sit up straighter, only to slip back again. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from giggling, a euphoric haze settling over her mind. He was close, she could feel it in every throb of his cock, in how breathy his whimpers had turned, in how wordless his moans had become. Even his movements he could barely control, his legs shaking from where they lay on either side of her.

It didn’t take long to bring him to the edge, to draw him closer and closer to his release. Even as slowly as she moved, savouring each twitch of his body, each muddled moan, she could feel how close he was. He sounded like he was trying to say her name, a prayer, a benediction of desperate need.

His hips jerked, almost erratic, and this time she did not try to scold him, did not try to hold him down. She only moved her head along with his movements, drawing him in as deeply as she could, squeezing the base of his cock with her hand as she sucked faster. And then she added her teeth to the mix, a delicate scraping against the most sensitive part of him, sighing as if she were filling her mouth with the finest delicacy in the world.

Legs shaking, body flushing, passionate cries and deep moans that were torn from deep in his chest, Marius reminded her of a storm at the end of the world. His body was an earthquake, his voice the scream of the wind and the crack of thunder, his body all the lightning in the air given form. She felt the energy that raced through him, the tension pulling his body taut, his muscles rigid, even his breath stalling out as though they were caught in the eye of his storm.

His release was like a tsunami rushing over him, crashing against the shore and drowning the world in salt and water. It burst across her tongue, hot as fire, drowning out her senses. His breath returned to him, his mouth falling open, gasping helplessly. She kept her eyes on him as she continued to move her mouth, swallowing his cum as it continued to spill from him, watching as his eyes rolled back in his head.

She could feel the sticky release dribbling from her mouth, coating his cock as she sucked and licked at him, his body jerking and shaking uncontrollable. His hips rolled up, over and over, trying desperately for more friction, for more. And she in turn tried as best she could to give him everything he wanted, pumping her hand along the parts of him she could not fit into her mouth.

He panted in time with her heartbeat, louder than the blood that pulsed in her ears. The sound made her ache, her own body trembling, tightening over nothing but the memory of what he felt like between her thighs. He was the sweetest of music, and she wanted to drown in the sea of that song, wanted to bring him to his climax again and again just so she could hear him forever.

Eventually he did grow still, heaving long, deep breaths, slumping fully to the floor. Sweat-drenched hair puddled on the floor like the silken strands were made of a starless midnight, his lashes thick and dark as night against his cheeks as his eyes closed. She pulled away, swallowing one final time, her mouth coated with his release. It was salty, metallic, and she swallowed again as she wiped her mouth, her belly churning with a fire still smouldering deep within her.

She did not make any move to stoke the flames, instead crawling towards him, brushing his hair back from his face as her heart strained in its cage. She did not believe she could love anyone as much as she loved Marius, and yet each day she awoke she loved him more. Each time she looked upon his face, smiling gently or thrown back in ecstasy, her love only grew, spilling through her veins in place of her blood.

Never had she thought she could love someone as much as this, never had she thought she would ever be blessed with this feeling that had buried itself between her cells, knitting into the fabric of her soul until she felt entirely different, entirely new.

She’d had her fun, and although the knot in her belly did not loosen, all she wanted was to draw his head into her lap, brush his hair back from where it clung to his face.

“My love.” Her voice was so much softer than she had thought, quiet even to her ears. She was breathless as his eyes opened, bleary, an indigo so deep it was reminiscent of wine. Dizziness descended on her, the edges of the world softening, turning hazy as though she really were intoxicated on his gaze alone. She barely even felt the next words that fell from her lips. “How do you feel? Are you alright?”

He blinked, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I feel good.” His expression cleared just a little, some of their glassiness beginning to fade. His lashes fluttered, his chest shuddering as he breathed. “I feel cold.”

Only then did she notice the air conditioning, vents rattling as it rushed through the air. There was a chill she hadn’t noticed clinging to the apartment, a sharpness that stung her nose and her lungs as she breathed in.

“Can I hold you? Would that help?” It was strange, after what she had done to him, how she had touched him until he’d cried so beautifully he hadn’t been able to find words, but she felt like she had to ask. Had to make sure he still wanted to be touched by her hands, still held close to her body after she had covered his skin in bites and crimson marks that marred his skin.

“Please?” He looked up at her, eyes wide and pleading. He shifted closer, his forehead bumping against her knee. “Please, my love?”

He did not have to ask her twice. She gathered him into her lap, stroking his hair as he sighed. His eyes fluttered closed, and he nestled closer, as close as he could get with his hands still tied behind him.

“Oh.” She’d nearly forgotten about his hands, still bound together with his tie. His eyes cracked open, his brow furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” He shifted, trying to sit up.

Rowan gently settled his head back on the floor, brushing her lips to the spot between his brows. “Just give me a minute, love. I have to untie your hands and then we can cuddle.”

His eyes remained heavy-lidded, like he was fighting against sleep as he nodded. His breathing was shallow, like he was still catching his breath, and a pang of regret echoed through the hollows of her bones. The skin of his wrists must be chafed, red and angry and sore from being bound for so long.

Making quick work of the knots she had twisted the silk of the tie into, Marius’ hands were soon freed. Rowan tossed the tie to the side as he rubbed at his wrists, slowly pulling himself up.

She reached for him, still a little in a daze, warmth still washing over her like ocean waves on a sun-warmed beach. “Do you want to cuddle now?”

What she was imagining in her mind as she held out her arms was Marius tumbling against her, his head pillowed against her chest. She imagined cuddling together on the floor, stroking his hair and massaging all the parts of him that ached the most until he felt strong enough again to stand. Then they would head to the bath and she would wash his hair and his back and his hands and make sure he felt warm and comfortable and loved. And then they would cuddle in bed together and sleep late into the morning, when the sun turned to a honeyed gold and gilded the apartment in its light.

What she did not expect was how quickly Marius sat up, how his arms wrapped around her, drawing her into his lap. He moved so fast she didn’t have time to breathe, only gasping once she was in his arms, chests bumping together, thighs straddling his hips.

It was entirely Rowan’s own fault; Marius was young, energetic. Somehow despite working at his desk and flitting between different business meetings all day long, he seemed to have limitless stamina. And if he did have a limit, Rowan hadn’t found it yet. He would return home from work and want to go on walks, go to the local amusement park. He’d offer to try new recipes he’d dug up from old cookbooks, he’d run errands with her, spend his entire evening shopping.

And sometimes he came home buzzing with energy, as though electricity sang in his veins and crackled across his nerves. He would have spent the day stifled by dry meetings and arguing with board members and finalizing deals with business partners, yet his cheeks would be flushed and his eyes bright as he returned, his desires building up during the boredom of the day. His fingers would already be loosing the knot of his tie, pulling at the buttons of his suit jacket. His shoulders would shrug out of his crisp shirt, his clothes rumpled piles tossed aimlessly across the apartment as he held her in his arms, as he made love to her long into the night. Into the morning, only pausing when his eyelids finally drooped, when fatigue snuck its way into his marrow, weaving into the cells of his skin.

Then they would fall asleep tangled together, or perhaps they would bathe first, letting the heat of the water wash over them and soothe the aches that bloomed in their bodies and across their skin.

Rowan’s ministrations alone had surely made a mess of her beloved fiancé, but even that paired with how thoroughly she had sucked him off would not be enough to drain him of his energy. She’d probably only stoked the flames further, given him more energy after teasing him and denying him even the slightest of touches with his own hands.

He pressed his face to the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her skin and her sweat and the lingering perfume from her moisturizer. All the while Rowan could not move, caged against his chest by the arms wrapped around her, the hands running up and down her back, bunching her shirt up as he tried to press his skin to hers.

“Marius?” She choked on his name as he groaned against her throat. She felt his lips against her skin, his tongue flicking against the vein where her pulse thrummed. It was gathering speed, like a bike flying downhill. The ache in her core fluttered, tightened as his hands squeezed her hips, her ass, fingers digging in as best they could through the fabric of her clothes.

He did not answer, but she felt his smile against her skin, right as his teeth scraped against her, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. Sharp pain sliced through her, cutting through the heat from the smouldering embers turning to flame deep in her belly. She was nothing but kindling to a wildfire, his hands hot as they slid up her back, pushing her shirt up, up, until it gathered at her shoulders, the front catching on the wire of her bra.

“Marius.” She squirmed, but to no avail. He was groaning, oblivious to her demands, his fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt and dragging it above her head. He pulled away from her, his eyes heavy as midnight as they fixed on her, his hands working to yank her shirt over her head. She took the momentary chance, cupping his face with her hands, his actions stalling. “Marius, what are you doing?”

He huffed a laugh, covering her hands with his, prying them away before pressing kisses to the palms of her hands. “I need you, love.”

“But I’m right here.”

He shook his head, dropping her hands to pull her shirt from her body, tossing it unceremoniously to the side. “I need you. I need to feel your skin against mine.”

His hands returned to her back, running up the length of her spine, plucking at the hooks of her bra until it came undone, sagging forward. “I need you. I need you closer.” His words were nearly a growl, coming from deep in the back of his throat. The reverberations of it shook through Rowan as he lowered his lips to her throat once more, as he trailed kisses down to her collarbone.

She wanted to say more, but how could she when his hands were running over her back again, down her sides. He shoved her bra aside, although still it hung there awkwardly as he squeezed her breasts. His kisses grew more desperate, heated, his face flushed as he pulled away again.

“We need all of this off you,” he mumbled, his swollen lips the colour of cherry wine, his indigo hair a mess.

Rowan felt like a mess now too, shivering when his hands fell away. It wasn’t fair that he should touch her with such need only to draw away again so quickly. She stuck out her bottom lip; her pout wasn’t anywhere near as good as Marius’, but he’d caved to her before. Maybe he would now.

One brow arched, the corner of his mouth quivering as if he fought to keep a smile at bay. “You had your fun, miss. Don’t I get a turn?”

Her mouth fell open, and Marius took the chance to lean forward, catching her lips with his. She gasped as his tongue swept into her mouth, his kiss needy, demanding. His hands pressed against her waist, fingers digging into the skin of her hips. They slid over her back, pressing against her spine until there was no room left between their bodies, the heat from his skin leaching into hers. She felt like she were melting, her previous confusion giving way to the need pulsing like a second heartbeat, the ache that was growing near unbearable.

When he pulled away he was smiling, his lips curled up in a devilish grin, his eyes glittering like they had been forged from galaxies. His cheeks were flushed, dusted the colour of sunset, the deep red promising a long night ahead. “This feels so good.”

She would have responded, or would have tried to respond anyways, had it not been for how he ground his hips against hers. She could feel his cock as it rubbed against her, even through the layers of her shorts and her panties. It made her eyes widen, and she bit down on her tongue, hard, to stop herself from gasping. Marius already looked too pleased with himself, the daze from his earlier orgasm nowhere to be seen. His eyes were clear, dark, nothing but the promise of mischief in their depths.

“It would feel a little better if these were gone,” he murmured, squeezing her ass again. “I want you closer.”

It was as if she was caught in a trance, her body moving of its own accord. All she could think of was Marius, of his hands on her body, his eyes roaming over her, burning her body every place his gaze fell. He peeled away her shorts, hands shaking, moving far faster than he usually did when he undressed her. It was like he was desperate, frenzied. He squeezed her thighs, trailed his hands up to her panties. There was a ripping sound as he dragged them from her body next, but she hardly had a moment to even process the sound as they were discarded and he was drawing her back against him.

He was grinning even wider than before, if that was even possible. He looked smug as she squirmed, his cock rubbing against her clit, narrowing her focus until all she could think of was how big he felt, how nice he would feel inside of her. She was trying to stop herself from panting, but it was hard. Each touch of his hands was possessive, claiming. Each touch more needy than the last, more frantic.

“That’s a bit better, isn’t it?” He spoke with a teasing lilt, but the flush on his cheeks was growing deeper, staining his face crimson once more. His chest was heaving as he pried her bra from her last. And yet his eyes remained sharp, even as they grew heady with lust. “That’s much better.”

He brought his lips to her throat once more, his hands roaming across the expanse of her bare skin. Squeezing her breasts, dragging down her back, taking handfuls of her ass as he groaned. He wasn’t even grinding his hips anymore, seeming content to touch every part of her exposed skin, to trail kisses over the line of her collarbone, down between the valley of her breasts. He scraped his nails over her, sank his teeth into her skin, dragged his tongue over her peaked nipples.

It was all too much for her, and she was melting beneath his touch, her composure falling away like crumbling walls from a fallen city. She tried to hold him in kind with her trembling hands, but each time she did he would catch her wrists and hold them to his chest, his free hand continuing to wander over the flare of her hips and the rolls of her belly and beneath the curve of her breasts.

It wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair at all. Why couldn’t she touch him? Why couldn’t she touch her Marius?

She splayed her hands on his chest, whining as he nipped at the corner of her jaw.

“What is it, love?” There was laughter in his voice, his lips curled into a sharp smirk as he pulled away. “Doesn’t this feel good?”

She pouted again, whimpering this time. She batted her lashes, hoping to enchant him, hoping if she looked demure and sweet enough he would give in, he would let her have what she wanted.

But he just laughed, nuzzling his face against her throat. “Good try, my queen. But there are some things that I want to try now.”

“But Marius, I want to touch you. Won’t you let me?”

His eyes shone as he drew back, his brows lowering as he gave her a sultry smile. “You haven’t had enough? You’ve done nothing but touch me.”

“It wasn’t enough,” she whined, and she didn’t care that she whined. Couldn’t he see that she had to touch him? She just had to. She had to feel the warmth of his skin against hers, feel his heartbeat against her palm. “I want more.”

“Oh, my queen.” He leaned close, and Rowan closed her eyes, tilting her head back in anticipation of a kiss. But none came, and after a few moments she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her. “I’ll make sure I give you much, much more.”

“But-”

His eyes darkened. “No buts. I was good, now it’s your turn.”

Her stomach twisted at his words, as he dropped his lips back to her throat, her jaw. One hand cupped the side of her head as he tracked kisses up, nipping at her ear, at the spot just behind it. His other hand continued to stroke her side, slipping low, tracing around her navel.

The moment he dipped his hand lower, brushing his fingers against her clit, she gasped. She scrabbled for purchase, her hands free from his grasp for a moment, digging into his hair as he stroked languorous circles against her, a low chuckle rumbling against her neck. It was deep as thunder in the night, the foundations of her body trembling beneath it.

Like a true storm, lightning cracked behind her eyelids as they fell closed, illuminating the darkness of her mind as he dragged his fingers lower, teasing her entrance. One finger sank in and she gasped, fluttering helplessly around him. He’d hardly touched her and yet she could feel herself falling apart, quivering like leaves in a tempest.

“Oh.” He was still curled against her, his free hand stroking her back, his words spoken between kisses as he lowered his head, teeth sinking into the swell of her breasts. “You’re shaking already, miss? I’ve barely even started.”

Breathing felt impossible, like she couldn’t drag enough air into her lungs, like she’d run a marathon as he nipped and sucked until there were red spots trailing over the curve of her breasts. And all the while he continued to tease her with one finger, sinking it inside of her only to pull away. He would circle it around her entrance, drag it back to her clit, flicking it so she gasped, back arching.

“I was going to warm you up,” he chuckled. She bit the inside of her cheek, so hard she tasted blood, trying to hold back the moan building in the back of her throat. She couldn’t let him hear her, couldn’t let him know how she felt already. It was already obvious from how wet she was, how she writhed as he continued to tease her so mercilessly. But to moan would be the final nail in her coffin, would be the last thing he needed to spur him on further. She didn’t want to give him one more reason to be smug, even if she knew it was probably too late.

“Oh, my queen.” He seemed to sigh as he spoke, drawing away from her burning skin, taking in her face, her pinched expression as she fought back against the whimpers bottled inside of her. “Why won’t you let me hear your voice?”

He drew his hand away, licking his fingers as he stared at her, smirking even as she felt like she were bound to a pyre, caught in his grasp as she was.

“Nothing to say?”

She relaxed her jaw, although she throbbed with need, the ache in her core was no longer unbearable now that he had removed his hand. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He sighed again, taking her face in one hand, squeezing her chin, fingers digging into the skin on either side of her mouth. “I wanted to hear your beautiful voice. Why won’t you let me hear it?”

Pursing her lips, Rowan looked as far away as she could manage, her eyes straining from the effort of staring at the wall and not at Marius’ wide, doe eyes. The taste of copper still coated her tongue, and she swallowed awkwardly, painfully aware of how Marius was tracking each one of her movements as he held her close.

He laughed, shifting until he was in her field of vision again, forcing her to meet the gemstone hue of his eyes. “Weren’t you the one chastising me about not being good?”

“Dis is diffrent,” she managed, unable to enunciate properly from how he was holding her face.

He laughed harder, mirth and mischief stitching together in his eyes, his smile. It was a cacophony of delight painted in the smile lines around his mouth and his eyes, in the wrinkling of his brow, in the light captured and turned to fractals in his eyes.

“Is it?” He finally managed, still breathy from laughter, eyes still creased at the corners. He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, humming softly, his expression inscrutable. “When I’m holding you in my arms like this? When there’s no escape?”

She would have liked to argue that there was an escape, that all she had to do was wiggle out of his arms and be on her way. But it was like she was bound to him, a cord in her belly pulled taut, drawing her towards him. She couldn’t leave even if she wanted to, even if he hadn’t caged her in his arms. He was so warm too, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be wrapped up in his arms, to be pressed so close to him.

If only he wasn’t so fond of teasing her so.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he pouted, his wide, puppy dog eyes returning. “You’re scowling.”

“‘M noh.” It was so hard to argue when his hand still clasped her face the way it did. “‘M jus finking.”

“You are.” A lazy grin slid across his lips, and he stroked her side idly, sketching shapes against her skin that she could not see. “But I might know a way to change that.”

He released her jaw, his hand settling on her waist. His expression grew serious, nearly grave, and for a moment Rowan feared she had upset him, that she’d done something to make him mad. But before she could ask, he was speaking again, his voice gravelly and low, the sound reaching deep into her core, adding more flames to the pyre of her bones.

“You have to be good, miss.” He arched a brow, so beautiful before her as he tipped his head to the side, his hair spilling over his brow. It nearly hurt to look at him, and her body felt like it would melt into nothing, like snow beneath spring sunshine. “You have to be very good for me.”

What she wanted to do was defy him, if only a little. He was the one she’d just made fall apart, he was the one she’d taken her sweet time softening up. She’d made his knees weak, his body tremble, she’d made him collapse to the floor from his need, from how good he’d felt already. Yet the second she’d untied him he’d been up again, capturing her in his arms. As if it had all been a trick until she let her guard down.

“Miss, you’re still scowling. Why do you look so angry with me?” He pouted, shoulders slumping. “I’m going to make you feel good, I promise.”

Rowan didn’t have a chance to argue, his movements too quick for her lust-addled mind. It was like she was drunk, everything happening so much quicker than it should have, her mind registering it all far too slow to react properly.

One moment Marius was pouting, so convincing that she wanted to cry on his behalf, and the next he was smirking, dropping his lips to her breasts to pick up where he had left off before. His tongue flicking over her nipples, his teeth grazing them as he drew them into his mouth. His hands once more roaming her body, no longer chastely hovering at her waist.

He was digging his nails into her skin, dragging his hands down her back, squeezing her ass until she saw stars. He gripped her thighs, leaving impressions of his hands against the soft skin as he tracked his hands up, toying with the delicate flesh at their apex. She would squirm in his grip, wishing for more, more than the light, teasing touches he was giving her. But the second she did he was moving his hands again, dedicating his attentions to some other part of her body that burned from his touch.

His hips ground against hers, his cock pressed against her belly, the tip pink and glistening from his earlier release, from the precum beading there again. She wanted to take it in her hand and stroke him until he fell apart all over again, but she found it impossible to focus on anything but holding onto him as his pace didn’t slow, kissing and biting and grasping her so tightly she was dizzy and breathless.

She dug her nails into his back, gripping him for dear life, her head thrown back as he made his way up her throat again with his lips and his teeth. A hand twisted into her hair, yanking her head back more, baring her neck for him like he was a predator and she were prey.

Shivers raced down her spine, and she could feel his smile against her as he worked his way up her throat, following the line of her jaw. He nibbled at her ear, pressed languorous kisses to the spot just behind it. Each time she shivered he would sigh, rolling his hips against hers.

“Let me hear your voice, miss.” He sounded utterly villainous, his smile wide as he drew away, his voice low and sultry and smug. He took hold of her thigh, spreading it wider before he dipped his fingers between her thighs. He stroked them along her folds, beaming as she trembled helplessly. “I want to know if this feels good.”

Two fingers sank inside of her this time, and she couldn’t stop the way her lips fell open, the moan building inside of her finally spilling into the world. He plunger his fingers deeper this time, curling them as he found the perfect spot inside of her, the one that made the world fall away as he touched her.

She gasped as he pulled them back out, only to slowly push three fingers inside now, stretching her wider. She felt like she were made of fire, like she would turn to ashes and cinders in his lap. Everything was so hot, like she were burning alive, but it felt so good. He felt so good. He knew her body too well, knew the perfect places to tease that would make her fall apart.

She clutched him tighter, head thrown back even though he was no longer gripping her hair. She couldn’t control herself any longer, gasping and sighing with every move he made.

“That’s it,” he murmured, brushing his lips to her throat. “That’s my good girl.”

She fluttered around his fingers, each time tighter than the last as all the fire and ash in her veins gathered in her core. It burned, hotter and brighter than any star. And it felt like it would explode at any moment, whatever was holding her together nearly snapping as she was consumed by the heat.

But he was chuckling, although she could not say why. Not until his fingers were gone, not until his heat was gone as he leaned back, putting space between their bodies.

Marius licked his fingers slowly, holding her gaze. “Not so fast, love. I’m not done yet.”

She bit down on her bottom lip then, but even that was not enough to silence the whimper that slipped from her lips. Why wouldn’t he touch her anymore? Why would he pull away?

She whined, unsure what to do, how to move. Although she was still in his arms she felt cold, shivering as the air conditioning hummed from the vents, the room as cold as a winter’s morning without his warmth against her. Even the sliver of space he’d left between them was far too much for her to bear.

One of her hands slipped up the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. She felt helpless, and she felt cold. Even straddling his lap as she was did not sate her.

Marius’ expression only grew devious as he reached behind him to pry her hand from his hair. “Maybe I should tie you up this time if you’re going to do something like that.”

She pouted, grumbling under breath that he’d pulled her hair earlier.

“Yes, but that was after you’d untied me.” He scattered kisses like raindrops to the tips of her fingers between words as he answered. And when he was done he cradled them to his chest, holding them tight so she could not move.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” She huffed, feeling petulant. It hardly seemed fair that after teasing him so thoroughly he still had plenty of energy to spare, and that he was using it to tease her. His beloved fiancée.

He sighed as he brought her hands to his lips to press kisses to them again, his words vibrating against her palms. “It’s relevant because it’s my turn.”

“Your turn for what?”

He smirked, her wrists shackled in his hands. “To do whatever I want.”

His lips were on hers before she could argue any further, and any sanity she had managed to reclaim flitted away like butterfly wings in the wind. His tongue was prying her lips open, his kiss heady, demanding. She faltered beneath it, crumbling away, no stronger than a sand castle against the might of ocean waves.

After an eternity he drew away, a thin strand of saliva catching the light, linking them together. He smirked again as he gently wiped her mouth, pleased with whatever he saw in her expression.

Her chest heaved, her lungs fighting to draw in any air, her heart stumbling over itself like it could no longer hold a steady beat.

What she wanted to do then was to cup his face, to thread her fingers through his hair, drag her hands down his back. But each time she tried to reach out he caught her, eyes glimmering with devilish light.

“Just stay still, my love,” he murmured against her palm. He lowered her hands to his chest, pressing them to his skin, above where his own heart stuttered out a frantic beat, belying the mischievous facade he was wearing. “Keep your hands here.”

She wanted to argue against the fairness of it all. Wanted to argue against not being able to touch him back. But the words wouldn’t come. Nothing but pathetic whines and whimpers came from her lips as she fought helplessly against his grip on her hands.

“Miss, I really will tie your hands if you don’t stay still.” He chuckled, full of mirth even as his eyes darkened, nearly black as pitch. “I bet I could find something fit for a queen.”

Her belly twisted, the ache in her core unbearable. She could barely understand what he was saying, nothing but the desire, the need, for him to touch her more, to be felt by him more, to touch him in kind welling up in her mind and overwhelming any rationality that might have remained.

“Something pretty. A string of jewels to tie around your wrists.” He hummed, holding her eyes for a moment before dropping his head, trailing kisses down from her throat to the valley between her breasts. “Maybe bracelets that can hook together. And a matching necklace to go with it.”

She shivered as he moved lower still. His hands took hold of hers, holding them fast behind her back as he tracked kisses beneath her breasts, then over the soft rolls of her stomach. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, surely the position could not be comfortable for him. But the world was tilting, spinning beneath her until she was on her back and Marius was kneeling between her legs, beaming with self-satisfaction.

“I’m still imagining it,” he continued, tracing her wrists where they lay on either side of her head on the floor. “A gold chain. Diamonds maybe, and amethysts.”

He leaned over her, pressing his lips to her wrists, his body drowning out her view of the rest of the room. She could smell the remnants of his cologne, the salt of the sweat that clung to him. Her head felt dizzy, the world still seeming to spin as he dropped delicate kisses to her wrists before he pulled away again.

“And here,” he dragged his index finger around her throat. “Would be where the necklace goes. Not something so simple as just a chain…” He trailed off, so genuinely in thought he seemed to forget himself.

“Marius.” She squirmed beneath him, hoping to bring him back to the present. “Marius, where did you go?”

His eyes focused on her once more, his lips pulling into an almost bashful smile. “Sorry, my queen. I was just thinking about the perfect gift to have made for you.” He winked, the shyness of his smile melting into something sensual, something that made her body quiver. “I’ll have to draw up some designs later.”

She huffed. “You’re teasing me again.”

“This isn’t teasing,” he said with a snort, looking absolutely wicked as he leaned over her. His finger trailed from the column of her throat down, circling the swell of her breast before he grabbed a handful, delight flaring in the darkness of his eyes when she squirmed.

Had he not been so thoroughly intoxicating she would have made a snappy rejoinder. Or tried to, anyways. But his touch was heady, and she was so overwhelmed by him that she might as well have been drunk. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, her thoughts slow as honey.

He flicked her nipple, and a gasp fled from her lips before the shock of it even registered in her body. Her nerves fired slowly, flickering like streetlights about to go out.

“That is teasing,” he said, voice full of mirth. “And this…” He trailed off as he slid a hand between her thighs, trailing fingers through her folds, circling them around her entrance as she clenched helplessly around nothing. “This is teasing.”

“Marius. Von. Hagen.” She managed to grind out his name from between her clenched teeth. She was fighting to stop herself from making any further noise, especially when he was teasing her so heartlessly.

“Yes?” He sank one finger inside of her, just enough that she fluttered around him before quickly pulling back out. “Mrs. von Hagen?”

She tried wiggling away from his teasing fingers, but he caught her hips, dragging her closer to him.

“Not so fast,” he laughed. His fingers dug into the skin of her waist, and she knew there would be bruises there in the morning. He kept his tone light, but she could see in his eyes and how tightly he held her that he wasn’t about to let her go anywhere right now. “I’m nowhere near done yet.”

Groaning, Rowan rolled her eyes, trying to stare at anything else but Marius. The finely carved wooden doors of the closet, the silk shirts neatly hung and organized in the open compartment, the flicker of pink fabric peeking out from between two doors from when she’d changed earlier that morning.

“Miss.” His voice took on a dangerous edge, his fingers stroking the inside of her thigh, but she staunchly ignored him. Maybe if she didn’t focus on him the enchantment he had cast over her would fizzle into nothing.

Refusing to so much as look at her fiancé turned out to be a flawed decision on her part. It meant that she didn’t see him moving until it was too late.

Three fingers plunging inside of her, his other hand roughly playing with her clit. She couldn’t even breathe between the cries that shattered from her like glass. No longer was she shivering from the lack of his touch, her body turning to flames beneath his ministrations.

She might have came right there had he not removed his hands just as quickly, his face flushed as he smirked at her trembling beneath him.

“That was teasing.” He sighed as he sucked his fingers clean, his head tipping to the side. “You sound so pretty when I do that.”

She shivered despite the heat flooding her veins, burning her nerves until they were nothing but ash. His hand was hot as he rested it over her waist, as he gently ran it along her side, so gentle in contrast to the roughness he had only just used.

A whimper came from her lips, unbidden. She didn’t even know where it had come from, where it had been tucked away until now. But something about the softness of his touch made her ache, something in how he smiled down at her as her chest heaved and her skin burned from his teeth and his hands.

His eyes narrowed, reminding her of shards of midnight carved from the sky. They glittered with the light of galaxies, millions of fiery stars flickering in the depths of his eyes. There was magic in their light, and she was utterly bewitched by them, by him looming above her.

Marius’ voice softened, some of the sharpness at the edge of his words melting away. “You’re so beautiful, my love. You’re so perfect.”

Her breath fled from her as he took hold of his cock, stroking it slowly as he continued to hold her gaze, continued to smile at her so gently, so lovingly as he spoke. “You’re so pretty, miss. You’re so pretty when I fuck you with my fingers.” He groaned. “And you sound so pretty when my fingers are inside you. I can’t wait to hear how you sound with my cock in you.”

He could have been reading her love poems with the warmth in his tone, and yet instead his words were obscene. Utterly indecent things fell from his lips, telling her how he would touch her, how he would take her over and over.

It was all too much for her, and she whined, not caring how pathetic she sounded. “Marius, stop teasing.”

“I can’t do that, love.” His smile turned wicked, his tone gravelly and low, scraping across her senses. “This is payback.”

She gaped at him then, even as her mind tried to ebb away like the ocean at high tide. She clawed at her thoughts to keep that one at the forefront despite the delicate way he was flitting his hands across her. Barely grazing her sides, a phantom against the more sensitive flesh between her thighs.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He grinned, all roguish charm. He should have looked like a mess, his hair mussed, his cheeks and his body flushed, his chest heaving. And yet he looked like a work of art, he looked like a god descended from the heavens to cast a spell over her, to ravish her until she forgot her own name.

Perhaps she did not have as good a grip on her mind as she thought she did.

“I’m not looking at you any kind of way.” Her voice was featherlight despite her best intentions, and she feared Marius would not hear her at all.

And yet he did, smiling wider at her petulance. “You’re not?”

“No! I’m not!”

He hummed. “That’s not particularly convincing, my love.”

“Well how would you like to be looked at?” She huffed. Tremors still wracked her body, aftershocks left behind in his wake.

Too late she realized how grievous an error it was to ask him such a question. His grin widened, his eyes sharp as shards of midnight.

He looked wicked, his eyes dark, his lips a crescent moon stretching across his face. “I know exactly how I want you to look at me.”

His fingers caressed her side, circling almost delicately around her nipples before he squeezed each one tightly. His skin against hers sent static arcing across her nerves; little shocks that made her tense, that kept her anticipating his next touch. The edges of everything softened, turning to a soft glow as the world faded away, until only Marius remained. Only Marius at the centre of her world.

“Just like that,” he murmured, breath hitching as he continued to run his hand up and down his cock. He was pleased with whatever it was she was doing, a shudder racing through him like lightning. “Look at me just like that, love.”

There was more she wanted to do, though. She wanted him more than just a little pleased, she wanted him to feel euphoric, wanted him to feel such ecstasy and rapture he fell apart.

She reached for him, trying to cover the hand still stroking himself. “Let me help, love,” she offered. “Let me help you feel good.”

He rolled his eyes, shoving her hand away. “You think I can handle myself?”

She blinked, baffled. Or maybe it was just that he’d made her sp horny that she couldn’t think about anything beyond him. “What?”

Marius paused his movements, leaning over her until his face was nestled against her throat, his lips against where her pulse fluttered just beneath her skin. It was so unexpected she gasped, his entire body pressing against hers, capturing her beneath him so she could not move. And if she did move she could feel him against her, his cock sliding between her thighs.

He sighed, his breath tickling the column of her throat. She could feel his smirk against her skin, feel how hard he was against her. “I don’t expect you to do everything for me.”

She forgot herself for a moment, mind spinning out like wheels trapped in deep mud. Where had she heard that before? Had it been something she said?

“So,” he continued, not giving her a moment to think fully. “I’ll make sure to handle this part myself.”

He didn’t elaborate as he drew away, smiling down at her. Rowan was entirely at a loss for words, enthralled by his eyes, by the strange cacophony of adoration and naked lust. Desire darkened his eyes to a purple so deep she could have drowned in it, devotion made his smile soft as moonlight caressing the world.

“You just stay still.” His voice washed over her like ocean waves, cradling her gently in its embrace. Her breath caught, her body holding as still as she could manage. His hands wrapped around her wrists, slowly dragging them over her head. “And that includes these, my love.”

She swallowed, body tightening around nothing once more as his cock slid through her folds as he gently rocked his hips.

“What is it, my love?” He kept one hand firmly on her wrists, holding them in place. “Have nothing to say?”

She whimpered as she felt the head of his cock at her entrance, slowly pushing in only to pull away entirely, leaving her empty and aching and trembling around nothing.

“That’s a little better,” he murmured, the softness of his smile melting away. “I like the sound of that, but I want you to use your words.”

She tried to scowl, but it was of no use. Her body was a traitor, lips parted as whimpers and moans spilled into the air, her hips shuddering helplessly as Marius teased her without mercy, rubbing himself against her until she thought she would perish from the want that billowed bright as flame in every corner of her body.

“What…” She drew in a sharp breath as he ground against her, harder than before. For a moment there was nothing but stars in her eyes, nothing but dark hair and purple eyes. The warmth of his laughter lingered on her skin like smoke from a fire, the smell of him chasing after her like a shadow.

She swallowed, grit her teeth as he slowly drew away, willing the words to come to her lips. “What do you want me to say?”

“Promise you’ll stay still for me.” How could she have ever thought he was the romantic hero from a novel? How could she have pictured him as a hero when he loomed over her in such a way? He looked every part the villain, and he was going to draw out his torture for as long as he saw fit. “Promise you’ll let me do whatever I wish.”

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, her core burning fire and ash, longing like poison slowly eating away at her body. Soon there would be nothing left of her but cinders on the floor and the lingering smell of her perfume and the echoes of her cries if he had his way. And he would have his way; Marius always did.

He was enjoying this too much, and even in her lust-addled state she could see how much he delighted in how she squirmed. He squeezed one of her breasts, laughter in his voice as she writhed. “I’m waiting.”

“I promise,” she said. Her words were breathy, hushed, but they found Marius’ ears all the same.

He released her breast, lowering his lips to trail kisses over the angry red fingerprints already blooming on her skin. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

There were a good many other things she knew he wanted to hear, but he would coax those from her with time. And she suspected he would take all the time in the world for them.

He hummed against her skin, the vibrations reaching into her bones, making her body shivering like a leaf in the wind. “I wish I could stay like this with you forever.”

Rowan furrowed her brow, gooseflesh racing across her bare arms. “You want to lie on the floor forever?”

It took her perhaps far too long to realize that his shoulders were shaking from laughter. The sound was muffled from where he pressed his face against her skin, but even then she should have been able to tell from the rumbling in his chest and the reverberations of the laughter echoing in the hollows of her body.

She would blame her sudden dimwittedness on the after effects of the enchantment Marius had cast over her. Whatever magic he had used to hold her in his grasp was certainly to blame for how she could not seem to understand why he was trembling, why his chest was heaving and he was gasping for breath.

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his cheeks puffed out and red, silver tears welling in the corners of his eyes, did she realize he was in fact laughing. Even worse, he was laughing at her.

She made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat. “What?!”

He continued to laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Miss, I love you so much.”

“I-” She faltered, even more lost than she’d been when she realized he was laughing at her. “I love you too?”

His head was thrown back as his chest shook, warm laughter ringing through the air, drowning out the whirr of the air conditioning.

“Marius?” She was at a loss for words, watching as he laughed himself to tears. She forgot herself, sitting up and pressing the back of her hand to his forehead, trying to check his temperature.

The movement did little to help, but his breathing began to even, the chaos of his laughter softening into stray chuckles as he slowly relaxed. He reached up to take her hand, bringing her fingertips to his lips, his warm breath tickling her skin.

“What’s so funny?” She was incredulous, didn’t understand what exactly had set him off. All she could do was sit there, bemused, as he trailed kisses down the side of her hand, looking like he was about to dissolve into laughter all over again.

“I just adore you, miss,” he murmured. “I love you with all my heart.”

Heat bloomed in her heart, spreading out from gaps between her ribs. But this was different than the tense, fiery heat in her core, the one that pulled her taut and threatened to consume her. This was softer, like the reflection of sunlight on the quicksilver of a lake. This was the first streak of colour across the grey of a dawn sky. It was the kiss of sunshine against her cheeks in the moments after a rain.

She was at a loss for words, staring into the warmth of his eyes. She cupped his cheek with her free hand, trailing it up into his tangled hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Marius.”

A warm chuckle against her wrist sent a shiver down her spine. “Whatever will keep me in my queen’s good graces.”

She would have smacked him had she had a hand to spare. But she was perfectly content to run her fingers through his hair while he cradled her other hand close, like she was something delicate, more precious than diamonds or gold or sunshine captured in a glass.

“You’re always in my good graces,” she teased, running her hand down to the nape of his neck, twisting the soft baby hairs there around and around her fingers.

“Even when I’m a little naughty?” The gaze he fixed on her was wide, soulful. It was only undercut a little by the smirk playing at his lips.

She bit the inside of her lip, grinning. “Yes, even then.”

“And when I’m very naughty?”

This time she did snort. “Of course! I love you always.”

“Then, if you’d allow it…” He sighed, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist one final time. “I’d like to be very naughty today.”

Another shiver raced down her spine, arced across her nerves like lightning dancing on a wire. She was tumbling back then, before a response could even fully rise to her lips. Marius looked full of mischief once more, pressing his lips to hers as he pushed her back onto the floor.

“Stay still, miss,” he murmured, breathless as he broke the kiss. “I need to worship my queen.”

Contrary to his declaration, Marius moved slower now, kissing her languorously, trailing his lips down her throat and between the valley of her breasts. He stroked the inside of her thighs, so gentle she could have dreamed it. And when he finally did begin circling his thumb around her clit, still slowly making his way lower, his lips hovering just above her navel, he moved at such a languid pace that she thought she might combust beneath him.

Perhaps this was the devilishness he had wanted to perform, working her body so slowly she was filled with nothing but desperation for the next touch of his hands, the next sharp bite of his teeth.

She whined, the hand still buried in his hair gripping him tightly. This was utter torture, and she felt like she would certainly die before she ever reached her release. She would be nothing but a melted puddle when he finally let her climax, she was sure of it.

Impatience was hot, sharp as it knit itself into her skin, stitched itself into the ligaments between bone, threaded into the gaps between muscles. It was slow at first, as Marius chuckled and murmured sweet nothings against her skin. He traced his lips to the right curve of her hips then the left. He nipped, never hard enough to draw blood, but just hard enough to leave a mark, to make her gasp from the suddenness of it. And his hands, still between her thighs, still moving with such painstaking slowness, did little more than circle her clit, slide through her folds down to her core and back again.

Her body clenched around nothing, trembled from the tension still building inside of her like she might explode. The world had long since melted away, narrowing until there was nothing but Marius, nothing but his voice and his touch and his villainous laughter.

“Marius.” She didn’t care how desperate she sounded, how needy. It was surely what he wanted to hear anyways, his name cried with such yearning. “Marius, please. I-”

“I know what you want.” His words were hot against her skin, hovering on the inside of her thigh now. He slowly spread them apart, humming in satisfaction as he took a look at her. “But what I want to do will take time, my queen.”

She was dizzy with lust, silver stars flickering in the corners of her vision as he blew on her core, smirking as she shivered. His expression told her all she needed to know, that he was going to take all night with this if he could.

She really could not take this any longer. In a breath she had her legs wrapped around him, her hand twisting into his hair. “Then you had better hurry up!” She bit back another whimper as he stared at her with wide eyes. “I need you, Marius! Your queen needs you.”

At first he said nothing, his breath coming out in short rasps. And then his eyes cleared, dark with mischief and satisfaction. The tilt of his crescent moon smile was smug, his bruised lips pulling back over his teeth, his canines seeming sharper in the light. He looked both hero and villain then, a prince and a predator.

But mostly he just looked like her Marius. Her sweet, devilish, far-too-pleased with himself, Marius.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, his voice low and warm. His eyes darkened, the colour of a violet wine, and twice as intoxicating. Her core pulsed with heat, with an almost feral need for him to be closer, for him to be tangled up with her all night long. “I hope you had a good nap earlier, miss, because you won’t be getting any rest tonight.”

She smiled as she held his heated gaze. So long as she was with him, so long as she remained in his arms, she didn’t much care. She would gladly stay awake long past the morning sunrise, just as long as she shared every moment with him. Dreams could never compare to reality, and the last thing she wanted to do now was sleep.

She wanted to stay awake, to move. To be entwined in this dance with him, in this moment and this feeling that was undefinable but for the heat of their bodies and the melody of their tangled voices. She wanted him, wanted every part of him, forevermore.

#marius von hagen #tot marius #lu jinghe #tot lu jinghe #tears of themis #tears of themis marius #marius x rosa #marius x oc #wonderstruck

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