Page 60 of The Fox

“I just want to feel normal. I just want to be a girl who loves a man, and he loves her back.”

Pulling her into me, I wrap my arms around her. The tension leaves her body, causing her to slump forward. Moisture seeps through my shirt and I run my fingers along her spine as she breaks fully. A beat passes, before a sigh falls from her lips. I’m not sure if she meant for her admission of love to slip, but she cannot take that statement back. I will not allow her to.

“Here is what we are going to do. You, mykochanie, are going to go to the kitchen and grab a snack. I know you have baked goods in that kitchen somewhere.” Her eyebrow ticks upward in amusement. “I am going to run you a hot bath, lay out something for you to slip into.”

I place a gentle kiss on her cheekbone, then move to the other before giving some love to her eyelids and the tip of her nose. “I want you to go and soak. Take the time to breathe for me like the good girl you are.” I spin her, pushing her exquisite form toward the door.

“And after that, when you are ready, I want you to step back into our bedroom.”

CHAPTER 40

Rhodes---Mirrored Love

I hear her trying to steady her breathing, making me look up from my book. Amelia is standing in the doorframe, trepidation in her eyes at the idea of crossing the threshold. Her time in our bathtub seemed to help settle her, but I’d then thrown her off edge with this set of lingerie.

Her matching set is black, sheer, criss-crossing just above her belly. The style forces her to be front and center, instead of shrinking into herself. Her eyes are even more strikingly haunting because of it.

Gods, she is gorgeous. The way that lace lays against her skin, the gentle slope of her breasts teasing my control. The tousle of hair escaping her loose bun, brushing her collarbone, begging to be pulled as my lips find that sensual part of her. The dampness from her bath still lingers on that tanned skin, a scattering of light I’d follow into the darkness.

She hesitates, her arms creeping up to hide herself from my view, to hide the repercussions of her decision to lead her Outfit.

“I don’t want to lose control,” she whispers, her confession bouncing off the walls like a ghostly echo. “I…” her voice trailing off into nothing.

“Baby,” I whisper, my voice softening so as not to scare her further. I fold the corner of the page down, marking the poem I’d been reading.

Her bottom lip trembled, eyes darting everywhere but mine. I didn’t dare begin to imagine what was running through her head. She’d been burned—hurt before, and this? This act of explicit vulnerability was taking every morsel of courage she contained in that goddess body. She was replacing whattheyhad done with what she was choosing of her own volition. She was fucking terrified, even if she’d never admit to it.

“You are safe here, Amelia. It’s just us,” I croon. “Just you and just me.”

I moved, inching my way closer; she is so wrapped up in her head, she doesn’t realize I am right in front of her. I trace my fingers over the hem hugging her hips. “Amelia, baby, look at me.” I move her arms down to her sides, fingertips tracing the curves of her, roaming upward toward that delicate neck I adore. Cupping her jaw with a firm hand, the other gripping the nape of her neck, I lean in. Her grey eyes, covered in a sheen I hate, meet mine reluctantly.

“I need you to get out of your head, Amelia. There isn’t a single inch of you I don’t love. These curves? Made for my hands. This body? Fucking designed for me. You are mine, baby. That voice yelling right now? Let me silence it. Let me drown it in your pleasure.”

Spinning her around, I slowly walk us to the large mirror in the corner, its frame speckled with patina. It reminds me of the woman in my grasp. Weathered but still remarkable. My hands flex on her soft hips, the rolls there utter perfection.

I will love her loud enough to vanquish her demons. I will remind her of the power she holds.

“Ro,” she whispers. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

I grab her throat, cupping her jaw and keep my eyes on hers in the mirror. “Eyes,kochanie. Your eyes do not leave this mirror, understand?”

‘Rhodes,” she starts again.

“You wanted to know how it feels to be loved by someone who loves you, yes? This is me, loving you.”

Pulling the hair tie from my hair, I place it on my wrist before giving my full attention to the goddess before me. “You say stop, we stop. But I want you to let me lead, understand?” Amelia nods, a quiet confirmation slipping between her lips.

I bring my left hand to trail along her body, soft touches that are ablaze with intention. I trace the sheer paneling of her lingerie, watching her skin pebble and her nipples harden. Amelia’s breath quickens as a blush begins to bloom on her face. Sliding one finger under the thin bra strap, I toy with it before slipping itjustoff her shoulder, reaching into the sheer cup, and taking her in my hand. Amelia is softest here, heavy and large in the best possible way.

Placing kisses gently on her shoulder as I run my nose up the column of her neck, I begin peeling the cup away from her. I do the same with the other thin strap, slowly running one finger underneath it, before slipping my palm to cup her breast. I bite the soft flesh just below her ear, keeping our gazes locked as I unhook her bra, letting it fall to her feet. My eyebrows furrow when I catch the first scar on the fleshy underside of her breast, then the second along her ribs. A whimper escapes Amelia’s mouth. Taking my hands, I run them along her sides, skimming her wide hips.

I pull her into me, resting my hands on her stomach. I feel her start to suck herself in under my touch, and I nip her earlobe in warning. “I love all of you,kochanie,” I whisper along her pebbled skin.

I circle her, stopping in front of her, blocking her view momentarily until dropping to my knees before her, rubbing my nose on her soft stomach. Hooking my thumbs under the waistband of her panties, I peel the lace away from the softest skin, the scent of her reaching my nose. She smells divine, and I want to drown in her. My fingers explore every inch of her dimpled skin, running along her stretch marks lining her lower belly and tops of her thighs. I fully see her Medusa tattoo, the ink now a reminder of her strength, of her beauty.

Amelia fidgets. Her fists clench beside my face and I know she wants to cover herself. For her, letting me see her scars makes what is between usreal.

I trail soft pecks along her skin, nipping and lapping the pain away. Amelia sighs and when I glance up, I see the way she is starting to slip into her safe space, the one place she can let go. My eyes roam her body, memorizing every dip and every curve. I brush my thumbs along her skin, wanting to keep her present. As I stand, I place a kiss on each brand. They are a soft reminder that she is mine; that despite her demons, I am here.

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