Page 58 of Law Of Love

We organised to pick up our masterpieces in a few days once they’d been cooked in the furnace, and I was glad that it gave Freya something to look forward to. She had smiled today. Not her phoney beam that she’d been putting on all weekend whenever someone spoke to her, but a genuine smile that caused the sides of her eyes to crease and her nostrils to flare.

“Thank you,” she told me as we made it back into the house. “I really enjoyed that.”

“Of course.”

Freya clicked her tongue as she rocked back and forth on her feet. “I was working on some potential submissions for my college work. Would I be able to get your opinion on them? I just can’t tell what they’re missing.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “Lead the way.”

She released a small laugh before nodding at me to follow her upstairs, where she rummaged through her bag and pulled out her sketchpad, handing it to me on the landing.

I hummed in approval as I flicked through the pages.

The drawings lacked colour and energy, looking dreary yet still extraordinary. Freya had something special. She could pour her emotions out onto a page and influence those who viewed them. Despair rocketed right through me just looking at them, the multiple shades of sorrowful blue she’d used leaping off the page and hitting me square in the chest.

“They’re incredible,” I said, furrowing my eyebrows, handing the pad back to her. “But they’re sad.”

It caused her to shrug, and her eyes flickered with hopelessness again—the same they’d looked all weekend.

I sighed. “About your father. My chief wants nothing to do with it for the moment, but I'll try again.”

Her dark brown eyes rounded, and she plastered a small smile onto her face and nodded.

“You don't need to do that with me, Freya.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you're not hurting. It's not necessary to put on a fake smile for me.” I moved towards her, picking up on how her grip tightened around her pad as she gazed up at me.

“I know.” She swallowed, and I saw a flash of something behind her eyes.

Need. Want. Desire.

My cock tightened, and I hooked my finger under her chin, allowing myself to lose all train of thought as I pressed my lips to hers greedily, backing her up against the wall. She moaned into my mouth, wrapping her arms around my neck as she pushed her body flush against mine, my hands gripping the sides of her waist.

I lifted her up in my arms, and she gasped, her back arching against me. Her head lolled back, and it gave me perfect access to her neck, allowing me to press hungry kisses to her hot and burning flesh.

“Kaleb,” Freya moaned loudly. “Touch me. Please.”

My breath hitched in my throat at her request, and I wasted no time kicking the door to my bedroom open and dropping her down on my bed, standing at the foot of it. She was breathless, her chest rising and falling as she took in deep gulps of oxygen as if she were a fish out of water.

I knelt down in front of her, seizing her legs and pulling them closer to the edge, my fingers trailing over the button of her jeans as I tipped my head to the side. “Is this what you want?” I asked huskily, dipping my fingers in to play with the lace of her lilac underwear.

The sexual tension between us was unmatched—I'd felt it the second I first laid eyes on her. But it was more than lust with Freya. I wanted to please her. To make her happy. I despised the idea of her being anything other than content with life, and I wanted to be the person to give that to her.

“Yes. Please, Kaleb.”

“If it's what you want, then it's yours.” I pulled down her jeans, throwing them to the side and parting her legs, giving me access to her core. My dick twitched at the sight of how wet she was for me, the fabric of her underwear darker from her arousal. She whined as I dipped my fingers into the material, feeling her moisture, causing her to arch her back and moan.

Breathing heavily, I plunged two of my fingers into her, working my way in and out slowly as my thumb circled her clit at a torturous pace. My fierce eyes watched her as she gripped the sheets underneath her. My sheets. She was dripping all over my sheets. Mine.

“Fuck, Freya, you're so tight,” I grunted as I pulled her underwear all the way to the side, giving me a view that had me biting down on the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from devouring her.

“Kaleb, faster,” she mumbled, and I chuckled, shaking my head, a smirk toying at my lips.

“No can do, my little artist.” I continued to work her pussy at a slower pace, moving on top of her and briefly pressing my lips to hers. “I've been wanting to punish you ever since you played out your little teasing operation on me in your tiny shorts and sports bra.”

Freya's eyes widened, and she released another moan. “You—you knew?”

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