Falling For Her Nightmare

Chapter 29: Past and Plans

Warning: Contains Mature Scenes. Please read at your own discretion.

Angel

Isaias cradled my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me, over protectively. I never felt so secured, contented, and happy. That experienced he shared with me. I never thought it was that beautiful. Beautiful is an understatement; it's beyond that.

With our body connected, I felt like he rendered me half of his soul, perhaps all, as I did, and it's a beautiful thing. I don't think I could bear being away from him after what happened. Just the thought of leaving him tomorrow night, I felt like pins erupted inside my chest and pierced my heart.

I quickly dismissed the thought and focused at the moment.

I dragged my eyes up to his face. He was lying on his back, his eyes closed. I traced circles on his taut chest with my index finger, earning me an occasional soft, heavy grunts from him, but he made nothing to stop my finger. I could feel the soft hairs scattered between his ripped Pecs narrowing into a line down to his v-shape.

He is perfect. His body is everything a man is to die for just to have it. I am so lucky.

My finger traced the outline of his bulging right pec, and it felt so smooth against the pad of my index finger. My finger stopped when I felt the lightly puckered flesh under his Pec. I know it's darker than his normal skin and longer than I thought it was. Perhaps two to three inches.

When he felt that I was stroking it with my finger, he opened his eyes and stared at me. He stiffened, and his eyes held raw of emotions that fused in mine, and I felt the tears starting to well up under my eyelids.

"Where did you get this?" I asked, my voice cracking, barely audible.

Still holding my gaze, all the emotions suddenly vanished, and then, I met his cold, detached eyes. The changed of emotion told me I had hit something, and as much as I want to take it back, I wanted to know him better, and that includes his past.

I felt his muscles strained, and I pulled myself up, disappointment hit me when our skin contact disconnected. I quickly tamped it down the dissatisfaction and decided to talk to him, heart to heart. I didn't care if I'm naked. His eyes traveled down to my exposed breast, and it lingered there, before dragging it back up and met my eyes. A hint of lust shimmered in his eyes, but promptly vanished when I spoke with a little determination to know what's behind the scar.

"You mentioned that your mother is still alive. Is it?" I asked warily. He let out a strained sigh, and then he slowly nodded. I held his gaze, wishing I could erase that coldness in his eyes.

"What happened, Isaias?" I asked cautiously. My voice was gentle, and it held a deep curiosity.

His lips set into a grim line as he swallowed constantly. "My mother is very different," he started. I forgot all about the scar, and all my attention glued to this story instead. His jaws tightened and his nose flared with suppressed anger. "I left her when I was six. And after then, I never saw her again. I never want to see her again." My eyebrows crinkled, curiosity growing. "Every night, she would kick me out of our small apartment to please any man." My palm flew to my mouth in shocked. What kind of mother does that?

I caught a demonic glint in his dark eyes, his body turning rigid. I felt like I'm losing the gentle Isaias, and now, I'm facing the Isaias I first met. I ran my palm over his chest, and his tight muscles loosened. "I can't believe a mother could do that. I'm so sorry, Isaias." I cooed, wanting to stop him.

He didn't seem to hear me as he goes on. "There wasn't a moment that she spared me a glance nor happy with my presence. She hated me." His jaws tightened, a vein popped out from his neck; his eyes turned sharper, darker, and even colder. "She hated so much because I resembled my father. That my existence is a constant reminder of my father."