The agony in his damaged voice made her eyes water as her heart broke even more. She cupped his face in her hands. “You’re not useless. Damn it! Grow a beard to your knees for all I care. It doesn’t hurt me.”
But the problem was, it hurt him and that was unbearable to her.
He scowled. “How can you even stand to look at me like this? I’m revolting.”
“No, you’re not. And it’s not a hardship by any means. I think you’re gorgeous.”
He scoffed. “Bullshit. You think I don’t know what’ll happen if I show this”—he scraped his hand angrily against his bleeding cheek—“in public? I already went through this once. The cringing and grimacing, and the whispering. The sighs and looks of gratitude that they’re not the ones who are scarred. The glares of distaste as people step away from me, or refuse to look at me at all because it turns their stomachs. Having people ask what happened so I can relive it over and over again until I want to scream. I couldn’t stand it the first time, but at least it was only on one side of my face then. So long as my hair stayed in place, no one saw it. This shit”—he gestured at both sides of his face—“I can’t hide.”
Except with the mask that covered everything…
She set her chin down on his knee and looked up at him, wanting desperately to make him feel better. “You know I’d do you.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re a fool.”
She trailed her hand over the muscles of his chest to his ripped eight-pack and then lower still. “What’s that say about you since you’re the one keeping me around?”
Darling didn’t really hear those words. Not while she stroked his cock with her hand and he stared into those amber eyes that soothed him in a way nothing else did. He could almost believe he wasn’t disgusting when she treated him like this and looked at him as if he were worth something.
Like he was human and still desirable.
She slid herself closer, then went down on him.
His breathing ragged, he ground his teeth at how good she felt tonguing his body. All his thoughts scattered and he forgot where he was and how he looked. The only thing he felt now was how much he loved the way her long hair fanned out across his legs. Sighing, he leaned his head back and savored her sweet mouth on him until there was nothing else in existence except the two of them.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head to smile at him. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you cleaned up and I can continue, okay?”
Right then, he’d have followed her into hell, smiling the whole way.
Zarya stood, hoping she’d helped his mood. In a strange way, his current bashfulness and reserve toward her reminded her a lot of how he’d been after the first time she’d touched him. For weeks afterward, he’d been bashful and awkward whenever she was near. Finally, she’d cornered him one afternoon in the kitchen of the Resistance’s HQ.
Even though she couldn’t see anything other than his black battlesuit and helmet, he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever known.
“Kere, nothing has changed between us.” She’d taken his gloved hand into hers and kissed it. “I don’t ask or expect anything of you. I’m here if you need me, that’s all. The last thing I want to do is to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
He’d led her hand down his body, to his crotch so that she could feel how swollen he was. “Every time I see you now, all I can think about is how good you felt. How much I want you.”
Grateful for that, she’d smiled up at him. “I’m here for you anytime you want me. No strings. No demands.” She’d locked the door and then turned the lights off for him. Because there were no windows in the room, it had been so dark she couldn’t see anything at all.
That was how she’d learned that Darling had perfect vision in the dark. How she’d learned that he could make her come within minutes of touching her…
Now, after all they’d shared, he was bashful with her again.
Unable to look at her, he stood, then picked her up and carried her to his room that connected to hers through the door in the center of the far wall. While her room was pastel blue and white, his was decorated in dark blues, maroon, and gold. The royal Cruel seal was carved into a headboard that went all the way up to the ornately gilded ceiling.
Even bigger than her room, it was one of the largest rooms in the palace. Only the throne room, dining hall, and ballroom were larger.
Darling closed the door to her room and headed for his bed. As gently as he could, he set her down on the mattress.
“Where are you going?” she asked as he stepped away from her.
“I’m not completely helpless, Z.”
“I didn’t say you were, Captain Defensive.”
He paused before he opened the door. “Stay there. I’ll be right back. Have no fear. If I use a razor again, it’ll be to cut my throat.”
Zarya cringed at his warped humor. “That’s not funny, you know.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he vanished into what must be his bathroom.