Born of Silence (32 page)

She narrowed her gaze at him, still not quite ready to believe his easy explanation. “You didn’t order me locked in?”

“Why would I? You’re injured. Not like you’re going to run. At least not for a week. I think I could have heard your limping gait across the floor and caught up to you before you made it down the stairs to the drive. Right now, an arthritic snail could catch you.”

She suddenly felt like an idiot. But he’d brought up the first thing that had ticked her off at him. “How was I supposed to tell you I was locked in when I can’t call you? Hmmm?”

He appeared completely perplexed by her question. “You can call me anytime you want. Hell, a call from you I’d actually welcome as opposed to the other assholes I’ve been dealing with all day.”

She gestured around the room. “Please notice, Lord Governor, the lack of IT equipment in this room. All I have is that stupid pastel remote and I can’t use that to call anyone, except the kitchen and Gera. She told me that I’d have to wait on you to call me at
your
leisure. When
you
felt like it.”

He actually had the gall to look amused by that. The man really had no sense of self-preservation. “Gera’s nine hundred years old. She can’t conceive of a mistress being anything more than a play toy for the governor.”

“Isn’t that what I am to you?”

“It depends.” The teasing light in his blue eyes charmed her against her will. “If I give you the wrong answer, are you going to hit me again?”

“Not while you’re holding me. How stupid do you think I am?”

Darling heard her speaking, but he couldn’t really focus on her words as he caught a whiff of something delectable. Without thinking, he nuzzled her neck where it was strongest and inhaled.

Ah yeah, that smelled good, and it set him on fire again.

Zarya’s eyes widened as she felt Darling run his tongue along her collarbone, beneath her slave collar. “I’m still mad at you.”

“It’s okay,” he breathed against her skin. “I’m still mad at you, too.”

But she didn’t hate him.

He hated her.

That made her ache all over again, especially deep in her heart.
I really want you back.
She missed them as a couple. The nights where they’d stayed up until dawn talking about nothing important. The sound of his refined voice in the dark, soothing her with
compliments, endearments, and support. The feel of his breath on the back of her neck as he held her until she fell asleep in his arms. The warmth of his body on hers, and the sound of his laughter in her ear. That had never failed to cheer her even during the worst moments of her life.

He’d been her best friend.

In many ways, even better than Ture or Sorche.

Desperate to find what she’d lost, she reached for his mask.

He pulled back and turned his head away from her. “Don’t.” The agony in that one single word made her eyes water.

“I want to see you.”

“Why? There’s nothing worth seeing that won’t turn your stomach.”

She blinked back her tears. The agony in his gruff voice made her heart pound. “You don’t turn my stomach, Darling. I love to nibble your jaw and earlobe. I can’t do that with the mask on. It covers them both.”

Utter misery darkened his eyes and it caused guilt to scorch her. “They’re not the same anymore. All you can feel are the scars under my beard. It’s revolting.”

She brushed the hair back from his mask and sank her hand in the soft dark auburn strands at the nape of his neck. “They’re still you, Darling. That’s all that matters to me.”

This time when she reached for the mask, he allowed her to remove it.

His entire demeanor changed instantly. Instead of being the fierce, steadfast soldier she’d always known, whose confidence bled out through his pores, he was now bashful and quiet. Like he was embarrassed or afraid she’d shun or curse him for his looks. But what hurt her most was the self-loathing in his gaze.

No one should ever feel that way when they were alone with someone who loved them.

She dropped the mask to the floor, then laid her hand over his scarred cheek where Pip had carved his name. Damn those bastards. Someone had crosshatched lines all over Darling’s face. The scars ran so deep that even with his thick auburn beard covering them, they showed through.

And they were nothing compared to the ones that marred his beautiful soul.

Please let me help you.
She couldn’t bear the thought of his suffering any longer.

Keeping her eyes wide open, she pulled his scarred lips to hers so that she could kiss him.

Darling’s entire world shattered as he watched her watch him kiss her. How could she not be repulsed by him? He couldn’t stand to look at himself. There wasn’t enough whisky in the universe to blind him to his appearance.

“Your face is so hideous. Even if you were straight, there would be no chance of marriage or children now.”
His mother’s first condemnation when she’d seen what had been done to him still stung.

Yet Zarya didn’t seem to mind his hideousness in the least. And when she left his lips to kiss her way across his cheek so that she could breathe in his ear and tease his earlobe with her tongue, he forgot all about his damaged body.

Nothing mattered to him except the woman in his arms.

Sighing in peace, he sank down on the floor with her. Her transparent gown spread open, exposing her entire body to his hungry gaze. He skimmed his hand over the soft skin of her stomach, through the dark hair at the juncture of her thighs until he touched the wet part of her he craved most.

She cried out the moment he slid his fingers into her body.

A smile curled his lips. “Come for me, baby,” he whispered to her as he quickened his rhythm. “I want to hear you scream from it.” Dipping his head, he pulled open the tie between her breasts
with his teeth, then nuzzled the silk aside so that he could taste her puckered nipple.

He jerked back at the unexpected taste. “Is that—”

Her laughter interrupted his question. “Gera said that red berries were your favorite fruit.”

“And you’re my favorite meat.” Smiling at her, he returned to lave her breast.

Zarya rubbed herself against his hand and cupped his head to her while her senses reeled. She’d missed him so much. Her heart hammering, she stared down at his red hair while he played with her.

She finally knew his hair color. And how beautiful it was. While his looks were new to her, his touch wasn’t. Biting her lip, she cried out as her pleasure overwhelmed her.

Darling gave her breast one long, savoring lick before he lifted his head to watch her climax.

Screaming from the sheer intensity of it, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and threw herself back, arching her body against his.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly. He always took so much pride and pleasure whenever she came, especially when it was quick. His smile turning wicked with that thought, he slowly kissed his way down her body until his mouth replaced his hand.

Zarya cried out again as he did the most amazing things with his tongue. There was no way to describe it. It was as if he lived for no other reason than to taste her.

And she loved it.

She buried her hand in his hair, then realized that the ceiling above them was mirrored so that she could watch him as he tasted her.

But as her gaze dropped to his back, she frowned at the Sentella tattoo on his left shoulder.

It, like the rest of his body, bore those deep ugly scars.

She wanted to ask him why her soldiers had continued to torture him given that tattoo, but she didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.

Later…

She cried out again as he plunged his tongue deep inside her.

Yeah, much later.

Darling laughed as he heard her screaming in the throes of another orgasm. In that moment, all he wanted was to be as deep inside her as he could get.

Rolling her over on the floor, he pulled a pillow off the chair next to them and elevated her hips with it. He snatched his shoes, shirt, and pants off as fast as he could, then nipped her buttocks gently before he laid himself over her and entered her from behind.

She growled out loud as he buried himself deep inside her body, then thrust himself against her hips. His heart pounding, he reached his hand around so that he could stroke both sides of her.

Bucking wildly against him, she screamed out again and again.

“Careful, sweet,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re going to throw me out.”

“Not possible as large as you are.”

It was more than possible as she’d done it to him before, and he knew from experience that it hurt her when she did. Which right now was the last thing he wanted.

So he held himself still and let her take control of their pleasure. He wanted to wait on her to come again, but it wasn’t possible. She felt too good under him.

Before he could stop himself, he came.

Zarya laughed in triumph as she felt him finally shuddering from his own orgasm. That, and a subtle intake of breath in her ear was her only clue that she’d sated him. He was always so quiet whenever he made love to her that in the beginning of their
relationship, she’d feared he wasn’t enjoying it. Rarely did he make even the slightest sound.

But she had no doubts about his pleasure tonight as he buried his hand gently in her curls, then kissed the nape of her neck. “I think I’ve died and gone to paradise.”

She was still getting used to his new voice. How odd to know his touch so well and to have all the rest of him be a stranger to her.

He lay himself over her body so that she could feel his heart pounding against her shoulder in a frantic rhythm.

“Are you all right, back there?” she teased, wanting to keep him in his current playful mood.

“Never better.” He brushed her hair across her shoulders before he nuzzled her neck and breathed her in. “I didn’t hurt your ankle, did I?”

“No.”

Grateful for that, Darling pulled away enough so that he could admire her beautiful skin. But he frowned as he saw the marks on her that his beard had left behind. Her skin looked so irritated from it. He brushed his hand over the rash as guilt stabbed him.

Damn…

“I’ll be right back.”

Zarya rolled over with a contented sigh to watch him walk naked toward the bathroom. Though he still wasn’t as muscular as he’d been before his torture, his lean muscles were well defined and prominent.

Even scarred, he was gorgeous, and that predacious walk…

It made her hot all over again.

Smiling, she lay there lost in thought until she heard a loud, resounding curse ring out from the bathroom. It was followed by the sounds of things crashing to the floor and breaking.

What in the known universe?

Worried that an assassin might be attacking Darling, she
pushed herself up and went to see what was happening. As she opened the door, her worry turned to horror. There was blood everywhere. On the counter, the towels, and all over the sink.

Darling sat on the floor with his legs pulled tight against his chest, his forehead resting on his knees and his head covered by his muscular arms. He was so still that she wasn’t sure he was breathing.

Blood covered his hands and ran down his legs to drip onto the tile.

Had an assassin broken in and hurt him? That thought terrified her.

Ignoring her ankle, she rushed to him. “Darling?”

He tightened his hands over his head, but refused to look at her.

That only scared her more. “Honey, what’s wrong? Where are you wounded?”

“I’m not wounded,” he snarled in rabid anger.

She touched the hands he had laced on top of his bent head. “I don’t understand. What happened?”

When he finally lifted his head, her breath caught in her throat. But it was the bitter rage in his eyes that tore through her.

His left cheek was bleeding profusely.

He curled his lip. “I can’t even shave for the fucking scars. I keep nicking them.”

Completely confused, she tried to understand. “Why were you trying to shave?”

He reached out and touched her shoulder. “I didn’t want to irritate your beautiful skin.”

Her heart wrenched at those sincere words, at the tenderness in his voice. He’d hurt himself attempting to protect her. That, and for many, many other reasons, was why she loved him so.

She picked his hand up from her shoulder and kissed it. “You didn’t have to shave for me.”

Rage flared in his eyes before he banged his head against the wall so hard, she was surprised he didn’t break through the slate tiles. “I’m so fucking useless. What kind of man can’t even shave his own face?”

The agony in his damaged voice made her eyes water as her heart broke even more. She cupped his face in her hands. “You’re not useless. Damn it! Grow a beard to your knees for all I care. It doesn’t hurt me.”

But the problem was, it hurt him and that was unbearable to her.