Possessing Liberty by Nichole Rose

Author:Nichole Rose [Rose, Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Killian

Liberty and I don't make it to my house. We barely make it off the living room floor, but I know she can't possibly be comfortable after I fucked her like a beast. I feel a little guilty about that. She was a virgin and I took her hard. I know she got off on it though. I also know she heard what I said…but she didn't say it back.

She's quiet as I pick her up, carrying her down the short hall to her bathroom. I turn the shower on and let it heat while I cuddle her against my chest. Neither of us speaks, but it's a comfortable silence. Once the water is warm enough for her, I pull her into the shower, and clean her up, taking my time.

She melts in my arms, letting me take care of her. I can't resist placing kisses all over her as I wash her up and rinse her off. Keeping my hands and mouth off her is going to be a never-ending struggle. She doesn't seem to mind.

She's pliant in my arms, purring like a little kitten while I wash her hair. I try to be gentle with the tangles so I don't hurt her. Gentleness seems to come a little easier the longer I'm around her, like being with her is breathing life back into that part of me that I thought I'd lost to the stench of war long ago. It wasn't lost though, simply buried. But the need to care for her overrides everything else, bringing that softer part of me to the surface.

The hot water doesn't last long. By the time I wash her up, it's lukewarm. But I've bathed in frigid lakes and worse. Spots of her blood stain my cock. The sight of it sends a wave of possessiveness through me. She's mine now, tied to me in ways that can never be undone.

I reluctantly wash off her blood before turning the water off and leading her out of the shower.

Once she's dry, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to bed.

Her bedroom, like the rest of her house, is warm and inviting. Her four-poster bed dominates the small space. Her walls are a soft lavender and gray, with a brighter purple pentaptych hanging on the wall above the bed. Each of the five panels show part of the same watercolor scene. Her bedding matches the painting. The hardwood floor is covered in a plush rug that matches the gray in the walls. There's a small chair in one corner, and a dresser in the other, with matching tables on each side of the bed. The room is comforting more than girly, an oasis of tranquility.

I pull the covers back and lay her on the sheets, pressing a kiss to her temple. She curls up with a soft sigh, already on the verge of sleep. She looks so goddamn beautiful with her hair still damp, no makeup on her face, and my marks all over her.

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