Page 62 of Savage Obsession

I blink, processing his words. Messy. My mind fills in the blanks—blood, violence, a brutality I’ve only glimpsed. Aithan does not need to say more.

A chill slides down my spine, but not from fear. No, what I feel is something darker, something unsettlingly warm.

I hold his gaze for a moment longer before nodding. “Go shower,” I say, my voice steady. “Then tell me everything.”

Aithan studies me, searching for something, but whatever he finds seems to satisfy him. His grip loosens on my wrist before he finally releases me, stepping past me and heading for the bathroom.

I watch him go, my pulse thrumming, my mind already racing.

As soon as Aithan disappears into the bathroom, I sink onto the edge of the bed, my mind spinning.

Messy.

The word lingers in the air like the echo of a gunshot. It paints images in my mind—dark rooms, blood staining the floor, Aithan looming over his prey like a god deciding their fate. Heis closing in on our enemies, hunting them, making them pay in ways they deserve.

A slow heat unfurls in my stomach. I should be disturbed by this. But I’m not.

I lean back, resting my hands on the sheets as my pulse quickens. Aithan is a protector, a killer, a force that bends the world to his will. He doesn’t just destroy his enemies—he annihilates them. And knowing that he’s doing it for me, for us, stirs something primal inside me.

I want to reward him.

I stand and begin peeling away my clothes, my movements slow, deliberate. The silk of my dress pools at my feet, my lace lingerie follows, until there’s nothing between me and the cool air of the room. I crawl onto the bed, my body on full display, my naked legs seductively crossed at the ankle.

By the time the bathroom door swings open, steam billowing around him, Aithan steps out with nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. He freezes mid-step when his pewter eyes land on me.

The reaction is instant.

His gaze darkens, sweeping over me like a slow, deliberate caress.

His fingers flex at his sides, his chest rising and falling with controlled restraint.

I see it—the raw hunger flickering behind his eyes, the instant approval in the way his lips part slightly, as if he’s considering how best to devour me.

I hold his gaze, my voice low, teasing. “I thought you deserved a welcome home gift.”

Aithan exhales harshly, running a hand down his face before shaking his head.

“Yelena.” His voice is rough, a warning laced with need.

“Yes, husband?”

Without saying another word, the towel hits the floor. Aithan closes the distance between us, his bare feet padding softly on the fluffy carpet. He stands at the edge of the bed, his powerful presence filling the room. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, and my skin craves his touch.

And then he’s on me.

Aithan's gaze travels slowly down my body, taking in every curve and dip, as if he is undressing me all over again with his eyes. I feel exposed, yet utterly desired as his gaze lingers on my breasts, their peaks already hardened in anticipation.

“You are breathtaking, Yelena.” Aithan's deep voice sending shivers down my spine. His accent, a mix of his Greek heritage and the refined tone of a well-traveled man, sends a thrill through me.

“You're not so bad yourself.” I smile, my heart pounding in my chest. I love the way he’s looking at me, as if I am the only woman in the world.

He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing against my lower lip. “I can't get enough of you.”

I lean into his touch, my eyes closing as I enjoy the sensation of his rough fingers against my soft skin. Aithan's touch is both gentle and possessive, a perfect reflection of the man himself.

“I want you, Yelena. I want to feel every inch of you against me.”

“Then take me. I'm yours.”

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