Page 85 of Beneath Scarred Vows

The orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave. My back arches, my thighs clamp around his hand, and a cry tearsfrom my throat. I watch in amazement as pleasure contorts my features, as my body shakes and trembles in his arms.

It's beautiful.

I'm beautiful.

The realization hits me with the same force as my climax, and tears spring to my eyes. I've never seen myself this way before—powerful in my vulnerability, strong in my surrender.

Ares doesn't stop, drawing out my orgasm until I almost collapse in his arms, my body convulsing against his hand.

For the first time, I understand what Ares sees, not a broken woman, not damaged goods, but something fierce and beautiful. Something worth possessing. Something worth protecting.

Not something.

Someone.

Me.

As I come down from the high, limp in his arms, Ares presses against me, grinding his hips.

Ares gently releases his grip on my hair, and I immediately turn to face him. My legs are still trembling from my orgasm, but I'm filled with a newfound confidence that surges through me like electricity. For the first time, he's made me feel beautiful, powerful, worthy of the hunger I see in his eyes.

I capture his mouth with mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth as I taste him. My hands climb up his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath his suit jacket. I push it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside my discarded dress. My fingers fumble with his tie, too eager to be careful.

"Let me," he murmurs, loosening the knot himself.

I shake my head, pulling back. "No. I want to unwrap you myself."

A dangerous heat flashes in his eyes. He drops his hands to his sides, surrendering control to me—his wife and queen.

I slide the tie free, letting the silk slither through my fingers before dropping it. My hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, revealing his tanned skin. When I push the shirt open, my eyes wander over his muscled torso and tattoos.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to the Spartan over his heart. His skin is hot beneath my mouth, and I feel his muscles tense as I trace the outline of the shield with my tongue. His breathing deepens, growing heavier as I move across his chest.

My tongue glides over the owl next, tasting my man completely. His hands find my waist, gripping me tightly, letting me worship him as he worshipped me moments ago.

I trail kisses down his stomach, following the dark line of hair that disappears beneath his waistband. My fingers find his belt, unbuckling it slowly.

I look up at him through my lashes as I unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. His eyes are molten with desire, his jaw clenched. I push his pants and boxer briefs down together, freeing him.

His cock is hard, ready. I wrap my hand around him, feeling the velvet skin. He's big, but after our previous encounters, I know my body can take him—can accommodate everything he has to give.

I stroke him a few times, watching his face as pleasure overtakes him, but there's no need to warm him up; Ares is more than ready, his arousal evident in the way he throbs in my hand.

I turn around on my own this time, facing the mirror, and bend slightly at the waist. Our reflections stare back at us—me naked and flushed with desire, him half-clothed, his shirt hanging open to frame his muscular, chiseled chest.

"Take me," I command softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

I want to watch his face as he enters me. See the moment we become one.

Ares positions himself, one hand gripping my hip, the other guiding himself to my entrance.

Our eyes lock in the reflection and with one powerful thrust, he fills me.

I cry out as pleasure-pain shoots through me. He's so deep, stretching me to my limits. I can feel every inch of him, pulsing inside me.

"Fuck," he growls, his hands gripping my hips tighter. "You feel incredible."

I can't speak, can only nod as I adjust to his size. My body throbs around him, already eager for more despite the initial discomfort. I push back slightly, begging him to move.