“Why? There’s nothing worth seeing that won’t turn your stomach.”
She blinked back her tears. The agony in his gruff voice made her heart pound. “You don’t turn my stomach, Darling. I love to nibble your jaw and earlobe. I can’t do that with the mask on. It covers them both.”
Utter misery darkened his eyes and it caused guilt to scorch her. “They’re not the same anymore. All you can feel are the scars under my beard. It’s revolting.”
She brushed the hair back from his mask and sank her hand in the soft dark auburn strands at the nape of his neck. “They’re still you, Darling. That’s all that matters to me.”
This time when she reached for the mask, he allowed her to remove it.
His entire demeanor changed instantly. Instead of being the fierce, steadfast soldier she’d always known, whose confidence bled out through his pores, he was now bashful and quiet. Like he was embarrassed or afraid she’d shun or curse him for his looks. But what hurt her most was the self-loathing in his gaze.
No one should ever feel that way when they were alone with someone who loved them.
She dropped the mask to the floor, then laid her hand over his scarred cheek where Pip had carved his name. Damn those bastards. Someone had crosshatched lines all over Darling’s face. The scars ran so deep that even with his thick auburn beard covering them, they showed through.
And they were nothing compared to the ones that marred his beautiful soul.
Please let me help you. She couldn’t bear the thought of his suffering any longer.
Keeping her eyes wide open, she pulled his scarred lips to hers so that she could kiss him.
Darling’s entire world shattered as he watched her watch him kiss her. How could she not be repulsed by him? He couldn’t stand to look at himself. There wasn’t enough whisky in the universe to blind him to his appearance.
“Your face is so hideous. Even if you were straight, there would be no chance of marriage or children now.” His mother’s first condemnation when she’d seen what had been done to him still stung.
Yet Zarya didn’t seem to mind his hideousness in the least. And when she left his lips to kiss her way across his cheek so that she could breathe in his ear and tease his earlobe with her tongue, he forgot all about his damaged body.
Nothing mattered to him except the woman in his arms.
Sighing in peace, he sank down on the floor with her. Her transparent gown spread open, exposing her entire body to his hungry gaze. He skimmed his hand over the soft skin of her stomach, through the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs until he touched the wet part of her he craved most.
She cried out the moment he slid his fingers into her body.
A smile curled his lips. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered to her as he quickened his rhythm. “I want to hear you scream from it.” Dipping his head, he pulled open the tie between her breasts with his teeth, then nuzzled the silk aside so that he could taste her puckered nipple.
He jerked back at the unexpected taste. “Is that—”
Her laughter interrupted his question. “Gera said that red berries were your favorite fruit.”
“And you’re my favorite meat.” Smiling at her, he returned to lave her breast.
Zarya rubbed herself against his hand and cupped his head to her while her senses reeled. She’d missed him so much. Her heart hammering, she stared down at his red hair while he played with her.
She finally knew his hair color. And how beautiful it was. While his looks were new to her, his touch wasn’t. Biting her lip, she cried out as her pleasure overwhelmed her.
Darling gave her breast one long, savoring lick before he lifted his head to watch her climax.
Screaming from the sheer intensity of it, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and threw herself back, arching her body against his.
“That’s my girl,” he said proudly. He always took so much pride and pleasure whenever she came, especially when it was quick. His smile turning wicked with that thought, he slowly kissed his way down her body until his mouth replaced his hand.
Zarya cried out again as he did the most amazing things with his tongue. There was no way to describe it. It was as if he lived for no other reason than to taste her.
And she loved it.
She buried her hand in his hair, then realized that the ceiling above them was mirrored so that she could watch him as he tasted her.
But as her gaze dropped to his back, she frowned at the Sentella tattoo on his left shoulder.
It, like the rest of his body, bore those deep ugly scars.
She wanted to ask him why her soldiers had continued to torture him given that tattoo, but she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.
Later…
She cried out again as he plunged his tongue deep inside her.
Yeah, much later.