Page 68 of Scorch

Am I like an alcoholic who just took a sip of a drink? Or have I mislabeled myself all this time?

As the growing line of lit candles fills the space with a warm glow, I walk between them. My feet are so light I practically feel like I’m dancing, free in the mesmerizing, intimate light they create.

Viktor stands, his huge arms crossed over his chest, nodding approvingly. “You're in control, Lydia. Feel the power without fear. It's not about destruction. This is about understanding and embracing what you love. You're safe.”

I swallow the lump in my throat when he says that.

I’m secure.

Sheltered.

Out of harm’s way.

My entire life, I've never felt safe, and I knew that when I lit those fires as a child and then as a teen—all that time I spent in juvenile hall, I was trying to gain some control. My mother had little interaction with me when I was younger, thanks to my father's grip on me. And Father didn't love me; he was only trying to mold me into the person he wanted me to be. His heir, the son he never had.

As the firelight casts shadows on our faces, highlighting the intensity of my emotions, I feel a sense of liberation. My fear melts away as he moves closer, his hand caressing my cheek, his touch tender and possessive. My breath quickens, my eyes darting from flame to flame, reveling in the reflection of the flickering flames in his eyes.

“I've never felt this way before.”

Viktor kisses my cheek. “You're safe with me, Lydia. Always. Let the fire be part of you, not something to fear.”

His lips brush against mine, the evening warmed by the firelight. The connection is intense, fueled by the shared moment of vulnerability and understanding… maybe even love. Safety is a beautiful, powerful mutual attraction.

He bends me back so he can kiss my neck. I let myself melt into the heat that consumes me, surrounded by flames, when he lifts me into his arms, and my legs encircle his thick, muscled torso. I never in my dreams imagined being with a man who could carry a curvy woman like me in his arms like this. But Viktor’s no ordinary mortal.

His footsteps unhurried, Viktor kisses me like we’re the last people on earth, the only two standing while the world around us burns to rubble. My tongue meets his, the sound of his deep, manly growl making my own need for him amp higher and higher with every second that passes.

This time, I didn't bite or claw. This time, he doesn’t spank my ass or dominate me. This time, he’s slow and seductive, and by the time he sits us in the chair by the fire pit, I’m so wet and eager to have him inside me, I can’t think beyond being filled by him.

He lifts my skirt and puts me bare-assed on his lap while he kisses my neck and scrapes his teeth along my collarbone. I whimper when he sucks and licks, flames of arousal growing between us. He moves me to his knee for seconds while he unfastens his buckle and pulls his hard, firm erection into his fist.

“We haven’t talked about birth control,” I whisper, a little afraid of where this will all take us.

The head of his hard cock meets my core, and I move involuntarily closer to him. I want him in me so badly I can hardly breathe.

He shakes his head, his eyes intent on mine. “Nothing between us, Lydia. Fucking nothing. You’ll have my babies, woman.” I half expect him to pound his chest and fist my hair, but he only holds my gaze.

I nod. “Yeah.”

I want children, too, when it happens naturally. I couldn’t walk away from this marriage—I tried, and I’m starting to realize… I’m not sure I want to.

With the first thrust, I throw my head back, anchoring myself on his shoulders, my arms wrapped around his strong neck. With the second, he’s splitting me open, and I whimper with need and want, my pleasure building as he thrusts in and nearly fully out of me before he plunges in my heat again and again. My head tips back, and he tears the top of my dress down so it pushes my full breasts up.

His mouth is on my nipple, his teeth grazing the tender bud while he thrusts in and out, his thick cock pulsing inside me. I’m losing myself to him as I near climax, as I near surrender. My need builds and grows until it encompasses my entire being. My eyelids flutter closed. The flames around us flicker and ebb as my ecstasy erupts.

I scream as I come, pleasure flooding me. I throw my head back as his hot seed lashes into me. His bite becomes savage, his grip nearly painful.

“I love you, Lydia,” he growls, more of a fiery claim than a flowery whim. “I love you, whether you know it or not, and I will continue to tell you this until one day, someday, you actually believe me.” He thrusts again as we climax in unison, joined in our pleasure.

There’s some kind of cognitive dissonance to his words and my ability to accept them.

How?

When my breathing begins to steady, he settles me in a chair and reaches for a blanket. He wordlessly kisses my temple before he rises. A few moments later, he returns with a warm washcloth and a dry towel. First, he inspects me with a frown, likely looking to see if he’s broken skin or bit too hard.

“Not this time, tiger,” I say with a wink. “You’ll have to try again. I love the way you clean me up after you’ve defiled me,” I say, only half teasing. “The way you’re so gentle with me after you’ve fucked me hard.”

“It’s the least I can do. I’m blinded when we make love. I worry I’ll hurt you when I unleash on you.”

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