Page 22 of Marked
I swear every time he kisses me, he awakens more of my long-dormant biological responses to touch. My stomach swoops, my heart beats faster. I’d given up on ever feeling this way with anyone. I thought I was broken.
Turns out I’m not, I just needed the right man to show me the way. I give into the sensation of his mouth on mine, to the pleasure winding in my core. Pulling him closer on instinct, my hands grip onto his thick shoulders, his own landing on my waist. Our kisses turn downright filthy as the two of us get lost in the moment.
Iver slides a hand up underneath my shirt to palm my breast through the fabric of my bra, and I arch into his touch, chasing it. Parts of me I forgot even existed are slowly awakening beneath his steady hands, his touch breathing new life into my body. I wantmore, more, more,even as I feel the shadows of my past begin to creep in.
His other hand slides down, teasing the waistband of my sweatpants, and that’s when it happens. My brain short-circuits, and suddenly those hands aren’t Iver’s, but Alpha Paul’s. They’re not gentle, but rough and insistent, intent on destruction.
“Stop!” I choke against Iver’s mouth, my throat tightening in fear as every muscle in my body tenses simultaneously. “Stop, stop!” I push at his chest, jerking back in a panic.
Iver shoves backwards, holding up his hands as his blue eyes pop wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
I scramble away, retreating to the other end of the couch and tucking my knees up into my chest, burying my face in the tops of them. My body trembles, a wave of memories suffocating my lungs.
His hands grabbing for me, the ripping sound of fabric as he tore my clothes away. The weight of his body on top of mine, his hands circling my wrists to restrain them, his knees forcing my thighs apart…
“Hey, just breathe,” Iver coaxes in a low, even tone, pulling me out of my memories and back to the present.
I suck in a shaky breath, releasing it on a stilted exhale as I lift my head. “This isn’t going to work,” I mumble numbly. “I can’t…”
“Chey…” He leans forward, reaching out for me.
“Just don’t,” I snap.
He pulls back, his knuckles whitening as he clasps his hands together in front of him.
Fuck, I’m completely shutting down. It’s like a slow-motion car crash where I can see it coming but can’t prevent it from happening. My chest is heaving, hands trembling.
“I-I need to go,” I stammer, swinging my feet over the edge of the sofa and pushing up to stand.
Iver springs to his feet, chasing after me as I bolt for the front door. “Chey, let’s just talk about this…”
“What’s the point?” I bite out, whipping back around to face him. “This’ll never work between us, Iver, and it’s all my fault. I’m just… fucked up. I’m too damaged.”
“No, you’re not,” he insists.
“Really?” I huff, throwing up my arms. “What the hell wasthat, then? If we can’t even make out, then how the hell are we gonna seal our mate bond? Hm? Youknowwhat that entails. If we can’t… if I can’t… it’ll break!”
“Maybe fate will give us more time,” Iver suggests optimistically.
I roll my eyes, making a scoffing sound in my throat. “Yeah right.”
“Why not?” he challenges, folding his arms across his chest. “It happened for my friend Ace’s parents. It could happen for us…”
“No, you and I both know that’s not how it works,” I grumble, brows drawing in as I drop my gaze to the floor. “There’s no use. This is… I’m sorry for leading you on, okay?” I lift my chin, my throat tightening with emotion when our eyes lock. “This just isn’t going to work.”
Iver stares back at me for a long moment, his eye contact strong and steady, his posture tall and confident. “Just… come here,” he rasps, spreading his arms to invite me in.
My feet move on their own accord, and I fall into his waiting arms. His chest is warm, his embrace safe. Tears well in my eyes, slipping from the corners as I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his woodsy, masculine scent.
“It’s okay, Chey,” he murmurs, his hand stroking my back soothingly. “We’ll figure this out.Bothof us,together.”
I sniffle as I pull back and lift my chin, gazing up at him. “How can you still want this?”
He smiles down at me softly as he wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because you’re worth it.”
“No I’m not,” I mutter, hanging my head in shame.
Iver takes my chin in a hand, lifting it and forcing me to meet his eyes. “Yes, youare,” he states emphatically. “Please, just stay, Chey. Let’s figure this out together. Nothing’s ever been solved by running away.”
