Free One of Many by Emily Goodwin, Marata Eros Page B

again?”
    I jump at the sound of his voice. Too busy with my thoughts, I didn’t notice Kiev standing in the threshold of his bedroom.
    “Should I be worried you’re going to take my place?”
    “I didn’t mean to.” I come to the top of the stairs and raise my eyes. My heart lurches. Kiev just got out of the shower and is wearing only a towel. A small white towel held tightly around his waist.
    I want to be that towel.
    Beads of water drip down his colorful tattoos, running over each mound of muscle. I can’t help my attraction to him. My body reacts of its own accord.
    “What did you do?” he asks with a grin, flashing his perfect teeth.
    I’m not moving. I can’t. Kiev is a planet, and I’m stuck in his gravitational pull. Am I a meteor, destined to crash and burn? The impact will be enough to cause damage, no matter what.
    “I told him he didn’t choose me but God did.”
    Kiev doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. His blue-gray eyes widen, and then he laughs. “That’s fucking awesome. I wish I could have been there.”
    “I wish you had been,” I grumble. “Maybe you could have stopped him from hitting me.”
    The amusement disappears from Kiev’s face, and he looks at me as though he cares.
    “He’s a prick.” Kiev steps into the hall, loosely holding the towel. He’s seen me—all of me—and yet I feel shy around him. There's so much to him, an energy that fills all time and space, encroaching on everything around me.
    He bites his lip, looking as if he’s debating whether to say what’s on his mind. “You better be careful. I’ve seen him seriously fuck up a face before.” His eyes dart to the scars covered up under colored ink. It’s a millisecond of exposure, but I notice.
    Father Weston caused those scars? I gaze over Kiev. He’s tall and solidly built. Who in their right mind would cross someone like him?
    “Want to leave your door unlocked again, Little Bride?”
    I cross my arms, annoyance replacing the fear. I won’t tell Kiev I’m grateful for that. “What makes you think I want that again?”
    “Did you forget how hard you came last night?”
    There’s no way in hell I’d forget that. My body is craving more with the memory.
    “I’ll take your lack of response as a yes, please fuck the ever-loving shit out of me . And I can now, and dear old dad will never notice.”
    Kiev crosses the hall, standing so close I can feel his body heat. Another bead of water rolls down his chest. I watch it fall, dripping onto the floor. “Your pussy is quivering thinking about it, isn’t it?”
    “What if I told you it was?”
    Kiev reaches for me, a cocky grin still on his face, but the second his fingertips touch my cheek, it disappears, and he’s staring at me as if I’m the only woman in the world. A few beats pass before he whips his hand away as if my skin has suddenly turned toxic.
    “You’re not like the others,” he whispers.
    “What do you mean?” A chill makes its way down my spine.
    “You’ll find out.” He runs his fingers through my hair, and I’m leaning in, wanting more of his touch.
    Without warning, he kisses me hard on the lips, and I wrap my arms around him.
    His skin is still hot from the shower, and the front of my shirt is getting wet from being smashed against him.
    “Do you want me to fuck you, Little Bride?” he growls in my ear.
    “Yes,” I pant.
    Something is not quite right about Kiev. Hell, he watched his father force himself on me and enjoyed it. Though I like to think he did what I did—pretend it was him on me. I kept watching Kiev, imagining it was his fingers inside me again. The reaction I had was purely physical… I think.
    “I’ll leave my door unlocked tonight. Or we could…” I look down the stairs behind me. “We have time.”
    “You are a virgin.” Our lips meet again, and he puts both hands on my face, bringing it up to his.
    The towel falls at our feet.
    I kiss him harder, feeling like I get a piece of my old