-- Back To Serra’s POV --
With Marinella around, I’m careful about using my magic to fake the blush on my cheeks. I also make sure that I don’t use too much glamour or else, she will notice the constant use of my magic even when I am unconscious.
I tiptoe towards Gideon while my eyes are still closed. Earlier, I saw the delight in the way he looks at me, as if he is living in his past. And in his imagined past, he is not an asshole-cheating-jerk-of-a-husband.
Gideon presses forward, and I place my palm against his chest. His body is still rock-hard, nice to look at, but never good at cuddling. It’s all fine, though. For me, cuddles are never his utility. Besides, even before, he had never been the one to cuddle. After our copulation, he will never snuggle next to me. He would even evade my touch and so I learned not to pester him with it.
“Gideon...” I whisper.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks.
I nod faintly. “Yes,” I respond. “Please...”
I feel him shudder under my palm. He leans into me and presses his lips to mine. And I... I forget to breathe for a while. His lips are soft and warm. It is a familiar sensation that almost makes me lose myself.
But then, reality crashes down on me and I remember all the lies and betrayals that shattered our marriage. All the anger rushes to my head. I want to push him away. I want to violently lash at him, to give him back all the hurt I felt because of loving him. And yet, the rationality still wins, so I stiffen instead.
Sensing it, Gideon runs his tongue on my lips, tasting me as his hands rise to cup my face. He tries to deepen the kiss, parting my lips so we can be more intimate, but I stay rigid. I thought about this part of my revenge before. I told myself that I will enjoy myself, that I will take and take from him, but it seems like I will need more time to get used to this, or else I will lose sight of my goal.
Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. “Serra,” he begs, as if breathing into me. “Open your mouth. Let me kiss you deeper.”
I open my eyes and peer through my lashes, and I still say, “Okay.”
I reach for the back of his head and lean closer. I open my mouth and let him in. His tongue, warm and insistent, plunges into the recesses of my mouth, awakening a dormant desire. He is still a great kisser, that when I thought I lost desire for another person, here it is again. The desire is still present, pooling in my belly as I remember all the nights we shared. I guess those nights are the only good times I shared with him.
His hands move to my hair, fingers threading through its strands, as he pulls me closer to his body, squeezing me into him as if he wants to merge his body to mine, I pull back and notice that his eyes are still focused on my lips.
“Gideon, a little gentler...”
The instant I am done speaking, he pulls me into him again, like a man parched. His breaths merge with mine as he continues to explore the terrain of my mouth, licking and probing, sending jolts of pleasure radiating from my lips down to my toes.
Strangely though, as intense as the sensation may be, it does not drown the bitterness. This is Gideon. The man who lied and betrayed our vows. The man who broke my heart into a million pieces. I can’t deny that I’m torn. My injured heart screams for me to push him away, my brain tells me to control our lovemaking so I will have the upper-hand, and my body craves more of his touch.
It’s a perilous dance that I am engaging in, and it’s taking my all to keep up. The pain of our past and the sweet desire of the present are clashing, creating a noisy mix of raw emotions that’s too loud to ignore.
“Oh god, Serra...”
I pull back and I realize what I have done. I have jumped into him, my legs around his hips, his hands under my butt as he carries my weight.
I exhale softly, and my fingers trace the outline of his jaw. “You don’t like this?” I ask, and I realize that my voice is coming in short gasps.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply holds me close, as if fearing that I’d escape if his grip slackens even the slightest. His lips brush against mine once more, the heat from his breath threatening to drive me crazy — with lust, nothing more.
“Don’t move...” he whispers, his voice trembling the same as mine, and I realize that he is aching for my touch as much as I lust after him. “Or I might lose it.”
His eyes bore into mine, full of raw passion and desire. But there’s also sorrow lurking in the depths of those dark pools. Is it guilt over his past actions? Regret over the pain he has caused me? Or is it simply the fear of losing his useful mage again?
“Are you okay?” I ask, my arms tightening around his neck.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulls me closer until our bodies are pressed together. The heat from his skin seeps through my clothes, igniting a fire within me that I thought was long extinguished.
“Please, Serra,” he implores, his voice low and husky. “Can I make love to you again?”
“Yes,” I whisper before capturing his lips once again.
While I am in his arms, he strides towards his bed with ease, never breaking the intense kiss between us. I fall back onto the soft, plush mattress as I settle into the bed, watching him as he takes his clothes off.
Gideon is still a masterpiece, a Lycan king outside. Every inch of his muscular torso exudes raw strength. His skin, kissed by the sun, is sweat-sheened. He also has a perfect face, and he only looked better during the time we were separated. He is a man so beautiful that the naive me never even thought that he was just a beautiful mask. And this perfect facade is the reason an ordinary mage like me aspired to become his wife, not knowing that I will be trapped in pain instead.
His unrestrained gaze meets mine and something primal flashes within them. He crawls onto the bed, hovering above me, his hot breath fanning my face as he lowers himself down onto me. His lips devour mine in a kiss that sears through my veins like liquid fire, making me gasp out at the intensity.
“Serra,” he murmurs against my skin, his fingers tracing the contour of my face, making me blush furiously.
I reach out, running my fingers through his dark hair, pulling him down for another of his searing kisses. His hands roam over my body, teasingly slow, unleashing a tsunami of sensations that leaves me moaning into his mouth.
“This time is ours,” he whispers.
