Page 44 of Beneath Scarred Vows
I nod once, my heart thundering in my chest.
His fingertips brush the scar so lightly it's almost not a touch at all. I shake slightly, not from pain but from the strange intimacy of it. No one has ever touched it before. Not like this.
"From the fire?" he asks quietly.
"Yes," I whisper. "The ceiling collapsed. A burning beam. I don't even remember being rescued."
His eyes lift to mine. "This is why you protect this side."
I nod again, unable to speak around the knot in my throat.
His hand flattens against the scar, his palm warm against the damaged tissue.
"You survived," he says, and there's something like respect in his voice. "You fought through fire and came out the other side. Do you really think this would make me think less of you?"
I swallow hard. "Everyone else does."
"I'm not everyone else," he says simply.
And then he does something I never expected. Something I've never imagined anyone doing.
He lowers himself to one knee before me and presses his lips to the lowest part of the scar, just above my hip. The touch is pure devotion, not sexual. When he looks up at me, his eyes are full with an intensity that steals my breath.
"This," he says, his fingers tracing the length of the scar, "doesn't make you weak, Katerina. This makes you stronger than anyone in this house. Never hide it from me again."
My vision goes blurry instantly, and I blink furiously to stop myself from crying. "You don't find it ugly?"
Ares rises, towering over me again. "Nothing about you could ever be ugly to me. You're my wife, remember?"
His hands frame my face, and his kiss is different this time—deeper, consuming. I feel something inside me crack open,something I've kept locked away for years. My hands slide around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms encircle me, careful but firm against my back.
I feel electricity course through me. I'm turned on, hot, and wanting this man more than I can comprehend.
When we break apart, I'm breathless, dizzy with desire for him. But there's something I need to say first.
"Ares," I whisper against his lips. "Thank you."
He smiles. "For what?"
"For seeing past my scar."
Ares wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his body. I melt into him, my body feeling loose, as I'm letting my guard down completely for the first time since I can remember. As our bodies press together, I feel the hard ridge of his arousal against my stomach.
Not only does this man not care about my scar, he made me feel special because of it. Beautiful, even. The revelation sends a rush of heat through my body, pooling low in my belly.
And he's not forcing sex on me, even though I can feel how much he wants it. Granted, my virgin revelation and scar reveal may have killed the mood, but still. He's giving me space, giving me a choice.
I've spent my life with men making decisions for me. My uncle keeping me hidden away. Now my husband, chosen for me without my consent. But here, in this moment, Ares is allowing me to decide.
I slide my hands down his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. His breathing quickens, and I watch his face as I lower my hand further, brushing against the bulge in his pants. His eyes darken.
"Katerina," he warns, his voice strained.
I apply more pressure, rubbing my palm against his length through the fabric. Ares drops his head back, a deep groan escaping his throat. The sound sends a thrill through me—I did that. I caused that reaction.
While I haven't had sex, I'm not a virgin to everything. My uncle may have kept me isolated, but he couldn't control what I read, what I watched, or my time away at school.
I sink to my knees before him, my eyes never leaving his. His gaze is molten, burning with desire as he watches me. I reach for his belt, my fingers trembling slightly.
