His comment catches me off guard and when I look up at him, I see a corner of his mouth twitch and his eyes are bright. Opposite how dark they were on the boat. He winks and his smile stretches wide.
“Jerk.”
He shrugs as if saying ‘if the shoe fits’. I push the blanket off and it takes me a good minute to process the pain as I swing my legs too quickly off the bed.
“What are you doing? You need to stay in bed.”
“I need to pee.”
From the expression on his face, he’s surprised I’d have this human need, but then he nods. Looking like he’s on a mission, he puts his coffee cup down and bends toward me. He slides his arms underneath me to lift me up.
“Whoa.” I hold up a hand. “I draw the line at you taking me to the bathroom.”
“You could fall.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s literally two steps away.”
“Marcus did that? Put those marks on you?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“But it was him?”
I nod.
“I’ll punish him for it,” he says after a long moment.
I give him a weak smile and he steps aside, giving me some space.
I put my hand on the nightstand, just in case, before getting to my feet and making my way to the bathroom. I’m slow, each step painful, but nothing I can’t handle. When I get to the bathroom and close the door, the first thing I do is look at my reflection. I want to see how bad it is. And it’s bad. There are a couple of bruises on my face but most of the damage is down my front. The marks of Marcus’s belt. My wrists are raw, too, but I remind myself that it’s nothing compared to what could be happening to the other women right now.
I need to talk to Cristiano about that. Need to figure out a way to help them.
After using the bathroom and washing my hands, I return to the bedroom where Cristiano is texting someone. He tucks the phone into his pocket when he sees me.
“I want to get dressed. See Noah.”
“You should stay in bed. Clothes aren’t going to feel good on your skin.”
I shake my head, walk toward the closet.
“This is what I mean about your faults. For starters, you’re stubborn as a mule,” he mutters, taking my arm, his touch light.
“You mean as stubborn as you?”
“Get back in bed. I’ll get you something.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re far from fine.” He comes to stand a few inches from me. “Get back in bed. Don’t make me put you there.”
I raise my eyebrows, fold my arms across my chest. “You’d put me there?”
“And I’d tie you down if I needed to.”
“I’m not even…How exactly would you put me there? I’m not a thing.”
“You’re really asking me that?” he asks as I realize how stupid a question it is. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifts me in his arms and carries me back to the bed. “Like this,” he says as he sets me down. “Are you going to stay put or do you want me to demonstrate how I’d tie you down?”
“You’re a Neanderthal.”
“This Neanderthal saved your life.” He points to himself then to me for the next part. “Keep your ass in bed.” He turns to walk to the closet.
I sit there to watch him. Before I can decide to do anything, he’s back with a lightweight dress that he sets beside me.
“Arms up,” he says.
“I can dress myself.”
“Arms up, Scarlett.”
I open my mouth, but he doesn’t let me get a word in.
“I’ve seen you naked. Multiple times. Arms up.”
I sigh, raise my arms high.
He lifts the negligée over my head and tosses it aside.
I band one arm over my breasts, the other casually across my lap to hide how naked I am.
His expression darkens when he looks at me, focusing on the fist print at the center of my stomach before moving over the rest of me.
“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes back on those darkest bruises. “I’m sorry I left you alone. Left you vulnerable.”
“You saved my life. I know what you gave up in order to do that.”
He sighs, softly grasps my wrists to put my arms at my sides, then reaches into his pocket to retrieve the rings. He has both the engagement ring and the wedding band.
Lifting my left hand, he slides each one on slowly, differently than he did at the wedding ceremony. I realize he’s still wearing his. Did he ever take it off?
“I promise to protect you, Scarlett.” It’s as if he’s making the vow now.
His hands feel warm, safe. I look up to find his eyes locked on me, the look intense, carnal.
I lick my lips as one of his hands slides to the back of my head. He draws me to him, our eyes open as our lips lock. The kiss, like his eyes, deep and intense. Like him. Like he’s laying claim. Possessing.
I moan, I can’t help it. This feels different than the other night. He feels different.
With his chest against mine, he pushes me back until I’m resting on my elbows. He draws back to look at me, eyes heated, face hot. He pulls his sweater over his head and is kissing me again, my back pressed into the bed now, his body touching mine, careful to keep his weight off me.
He draws back again, hand sliding down my thigh. I hear the jangle of his belt buckle, then the sliding of his zipper.
“Scarlett?” he asks me, one hand firm around my hip.
I look into his eyes. Meet his dark, intense gaze. My heart is racing, my lips swollen, my sex wanting.
“Tell me now if you want me to stop.”
I swallow, every nerve ending alive as he shifts his grip to bend my knee, pushing my leg wide. It hurts but I’m hungry for him. I want it. I want him.
“Say it. Say it now.”
He’s at my entrance, him hard, me wet, the skin of his cock soft and warm.
I nod, I can’t speak. And when he kisses me again, I close my eyes and wind my fingers into the hair at the back of his head. Inhaling his scent, feeling his power, I’m overwhelmed by him as he slides inside me.
“Fuck.” It’s a grunt. He’s not kissing me now, but our lips are locked. I open my eyes to watch him, see his struggle as he takes my lower lip between his teeth and moves inside me, and I know he’s holding back. But I want him. I want all of him.
“Hard,” I manage against his lips. “Do it hard.” I need it. I need it to know I’m his. Because I want that. God. I don’t understand it, but I want to be his.
“Scarlett. Fuck!”
He gives over to it then and I’m not sure it’s a conscious choice. He’s rough, every move of his body agony and ecstasy at once for mine. This is Cristiano. This is him raw. Naked.
His thrusts are deep and hard and measured. He draws back to look at me, to watch me, his eyes almost black now.
“I’m going to come,” I say on a cry, a breath. But before the words are out, I’m coming. Coming around him, coming harder when I feel him throb, when I feel the first release, when I know he’s coming, too, coming inside me. Filling me up. And I cling to him, nails breaking skin, knowing he can take it. Knowing I’m safe with him.
Something has shifted. A metamorphosis has taken place.