Wild and Out of Control

|chapter thirty-six|

|danica|

Something warm and hard presses against my body as I wake from a peaceful sleep of dreaming about home. Not home now but how home used to be, with a house full of love instead of a house full of order.

     I slowly open my eyes, though it strains as light fills my room. The pounding in my head and the drowsy feeling in my muscles subside after I slept it off but the memories of it are still there—the fucking confusion of it all is I don't know what even happened, or if it even happened. Of course it happened, I felt the blow and experienced whatever drug that was. But my question is why? Why did they do it? And who is they?

     The rise and fall of my pillow pulls me from my thoughts and into the present. Oh no. Is this who I think it is? I turn my head upward, looking at the sleeping face of the man who is slowly unraveling every rule and wall I have in place. In my stupor, I must've asked for him to stay last night. Groaning, I remember asking and begging for him to stay last night. Somehow, in the middle of the night, I ended up on top of him. I have no idea how this doesn't bother him, but he's sleeping just fine with an arm slung around my waist and the other at his side.

     When he's sleeping he almost looks peaceful. There are no glares, no menacing looks, and no rolled eyes when he thinks no one is looking. His relic is stark black against his tan skin, the swirls extending from his neck down his arm. I lightly trace the design, my fingers barely touching his warm skin. Why is he always warm? I place my cold feet under his legs, using him as my personal heater.

     He's so beautiful it's not even fair.

     Why am I mad at him again?

     Oh right. Because he won't give me the respect I deserve.

     But just because I'm mad at him doesn't mean I don't want him. And I especially do right now with him in my bed like this. I rub myself against him, my nipples hardening underneath my nightgown at the feel of his hard chest against them. I suck in a breath when I meet an unmistakable bulge. It rubs against my stomach, the friction causing throbs in my most intimate part. This is so wrong, but why does it feel so right?

     "You better be awake and well aware of your actions, darling." Xaden's gruff, morning voice stops me in my tracks. His hand on my waist tightens as he opens his eyes. "Did I say to stop?" He pulls me against him until there's not even a breadth of an inch between us. "Good morning, my Danger."

     I don't correct him this time. "Good morning, Xaden. What..." I trail off as he nuzzles his face in my neck, his breath tickling the skin. I place my hands on his neck, my fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. His lips trail kisses up my neck until he reaches my jaw. He takes his sweet time torturing and teasing me, nipping at my skin all the while moving his hips ever so slowly against my open legs. The only thing separating us there in his underwear

     "Gods, I could wake up like this every day. With you in my arms." His fingers pull at my nightgown, pulling it over my hips, my waist, and up over my shoulders.

     "Yes," I breathe, pushing enough to help him get it off me. I'm semi-sitting and lying on him as he palms both my breasts in his hands. He flicks his thumb over the hard peaks of my nipples. "Oh, gods." He traces my scar, something catching in his gaze. I know he wants to ask where it's from, but he holds it back.

     He moves up into a sitting position all of a sudden, and my only reaction is to hold on to his shoulder as my legs settle on the sides of his thighs, his erection nestled against my most intimate part. His back is against the headboard as he watches me, his head tilted to the side as his lust-filled eyes roam over my face. He pulls his underwear down his thighs, freeing his erection. His cock is hard and already leaking pre-cum.