Page 182 of The Delta's Rogue
I stare at her, straightening myself to my full, towering stature. “You don’t think your body is perfect?” I arch a brow.
“I didn’t say—”
“I felt it,” I inform her, and her mouth snaps shut. “You don’t believe me? That you’re perfect?”
“I’m scarred.”
Pain fills every syllable of her confession. It’s etched into her words, her expression, and her soul as she strips away a layer of herself for me to witness this broken, demoralized part.
“I’m scarred on the outside and on the inside,” she repeats. “I’m broken, and a mess, and I look nothing like I did before I left you. I’m not perfect.”
My teeth grind together, and I shake my head as I release her from my grasp. “Turn around.”
A ripple of my aura pulses out of me with my order. Not to force her to do what I said—I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to—but to give her a taste of the dominance she craves from me.
I saw the way my aura affected her the other day. I smelled it too. Her eyes swirled with desire—an echo of the way her arousal swirled through the air and into my lungs.
It does the same now.
As soon as my power washes over her, Sarina shudders. She arches towards me, thrusting her chest forward and lifting her hardened nipples higher into the air. She spins to face the window, and I slide up behind her until there is no space between us. Delicious, glittering fireworks ignite across my skin where her naked body touches my bare chest and abdomen.
I glide my fingers up her sides, tracing over the flare of her hips and the dip of her waist, all the way up to her breasts. I cup them from below, and at the same moment, my lips meet her neck in a searing kiss. She rewards my touches and my kiss with the most beautiful moan I’ve ever heard.
I chuckle and pulse my hips forward, ensuring she feels my rock-hard dick through my sweatpants. “Tell me, Sarina… If your body isn’t perfect, how could I possibly be this hard just from looking at you?” I squeeze her breasts and roll my thumbs across her pretty nipples, watching her reaction in the window’s reflection. “You haven’t touched me, and you don’t need to. Not when you’re this perfect.”
Her nails scrape against the glass as I continue to play with her nipples. I circle them with my fingertips and brush across them with the lightest touches before I tug at them, making them harder.
She gasps and tenses. Her eyes squeeze shut in overwhelming pleasure.
Another pulse of my aura flares out from me. “Open your eyes,” I command. “Look at your reflection as I’m playing with you. I want you to see yourself how I see you.”
“Sebastián…” She groans, scratching the glass as she searches for something to hold on to.
“Open them, Sarina. Watch me touch you.”
She does as I say, meeting my gaze in the reflection. The black of her pupils hides the deep brown of her eyes. Her stare is filled with heat and desperate need. Her breaths are erratic and fast, forcing her lips to stay parted.
She leans back into my chest, letting my warmth and strength embrace and support her as I play with her pliant, willing, and responsive body.
“When I look at you”—my hands resume their wandering caresses—“I see a female who has captivated me since the moment we met.” One hand slides down the flat plane of her abdomen and brushes right above her clit, while the other travels up and wraps around her throat. “I see a strip of red fabric winding around your neck, tied in the back with a bow. I see sheer black lace giving me sneak peeks of the parts of you I didn’t think I deserved to touch. Butterflies flutter and waves of pleasure thrum through me when I remember the way you tasted when I placed my lips on yours the first time, when I remember the way your eyes sparkled with desire and mischief every time I fought my urges to give in to everything you awakened within me.”
My hands move lower. The one around her throat journeys to her breasts again, teasing and stroking them. The other ghosts across her clit and over to her inner thigh, where it caresses up and down in painfully slow movements. She gasps and twitches, searching for my hand, but I keep my touch away from where she wants it most.
“After you left me,” I continue, “I dreamt of your beauty often. The rapture in your expression as you fucked my face. The way your tits bounced as you rode my dick. The way you surrendered your everything to me as we became one for the first time. I replayed it all in my head as often as I could, to ensure I’d never forget you or anything about you.”
Sarina’s skin warms beneath my touch, and her eyes track the path of my hands—like I told her to. Like the good fucking girl she is.
Her muscles relax, and she allows me to manipulate her body. I guide her to move with my touch. Her hips roll at the slightest prompting, and her back arches with the barest caress of my fingertips on her nipple. The curving of her spine places the swell of her breast into my hand—exactly where I want it. Her palms flatten against the glass, and her neck circles, easing the rest of her tension.
“And now? You’re right when you say you look nothing like you did before. But not because you’re less beautiful. No. If anything, you’re more beautiful. These scars?” I kiss her neck, kiss every inch of the scarring I can reach. “These scars don’t scare me. They don’t take away from your beauty. They add to it.” I trace my nose across her neck, reversing the path of my kisses. “Every time I look at you, I forget how to speak. Every time you smile at me, I turn into a giddy teenager with his first crush. Whenever I see you,whether you’re in my clothes that are too big for you or the most extravagant ballgown or nothing at all, my knees buckle and my heart leaps, and all I want to do is hold you and kiss you and love you.”
I lift my chin to watch her in the window’s reflection again. “That’s how I see you, Sarina. As a beautiful, sexy, enthralling goddess who owns all of me. But that’s not all I see. I also see your bravery and your strength, someone who is willing to give everything to protect those who can’t protect themselves. I see a fighter, a warrior, someone who wakes up every day and chooses to put one foot in front of the other, even when the pain in her beautifully scarred soul is so heavy that all she wants to do is hide away from the world.”
Her chin lifts at my praise, and her eyes water with emotion, but she keeps them locked on our reflections, locked on my hands as they play with her and tease her. I massage her breast, scraping over the brown tip with my palm, and my other hand skates across to her opposite leg, teasing her clit as it passes.
Sarina doesn’t fight me this time, doesn’t try to follow my touch with her pussy. Instead, she softens. She melts into me. She gives up control completely to let me lead her into the deepest depths of desire.
Fuck, I love when she’s like this—lost in a swirling whirlpool of lust and sensuality, where the only things that matter to her are my touch and my words as I guide her through wave after wave of ecstasy. I forgot how perfect she is when she surrenders to me, when she allows me to show her exactly how much pleasure her body can take.
