Chapter 56 Theron's Obsession
Theron’s Point of View
There is something in the way Eden sobbed that seemed to bring out something inside me, as though a light was switched on. I didn’t feel guilt—hell, I even know what the word means, but she was right about one thing: she didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of the emotional backlash of my climbing to the top.
I want to believe that it was her fault for being too soft, too emotional, too understanding—but at the same time, I should be grateful that she is, it is only because she is like that that I am able to take advantage of her.
So, at the very least, I could show her a shred of my pity, I pulled her into a hug, palming her hair that feels like silk in between my fingers; rich in volume and sheen. The scent of her perfume, a powdery, flower-like scent, filled my nose—feminine and soft, smells like the roses mingled with the air of the beach.
I liked it.
“I’m sorry—” I muttered, even though I didn’t feel sorry. I understand those were the words she could use in the moment, my fingers crawling inside her hair, massaging the soft skin of her scalp. I have never been more fascinated by another human being, but Eden seemed to bring out a certain level of curiosity that no other woman seemed to have unlocked in me.
She was so small, fragile even, as she was against my body, I curled my finger underneath her chin, tilting her head up slightly. Tears streaked her face, leaving a wet, sorrowful trail on her soft, rosy cheeks that were also flushed.
She looked ethereal… Otherworldly… the detailing in her face, her eyes, and God, her lips. As if she were carefully painted by an artist hungry for perfection.
She was everything--a forbidden masterpiece and more, feeling this way was dangerous—and I know it. But I couldn’t care less, my tongue dared to dart out, as I was filled with a wonder of what she would taste like.
“Oh, my little lamb…” I whispered, my breath fanning softly across her face.
Can I find youth, eternity, and redemption if I just tasted it… Without much thought, I licked the tears that were on her cheeks.
They tasted normal, rich in salt and sadness that seemed as expensive as pearls, but I was soon filled with greed…
I wanted so much more.
“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve any of this,” I muttered.
My eyes then fell to her plump lips wondering if I may dare to take her lips in a kiss, wondering if she would allow me.
I muttered as I reached down for them, stopping only when mine were centimeters away from hers. She didn’t move away, she simply closed her eyes, and I smile taking that as a form of consent.
The kiss was soft, as I took my time to worship her curves, and the soft folds of her lips, it was delicate—felt like clouds, like a blessing, like melting butter, like ice-cream, but warm. Her mouth parted of her own volition, and I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding into her warmth, and she gasped softly.
I wasn’t a good guy; I was painfully aware that I couldn’t give her the softness that she wanted or deserved.
I am a bastard—and I am not ashamed to show my true colors. I am usually filled with the urge to ruin the things that are so painfully perfect, to cause them to grieve, to make them broken—just like the world has made me.
And when they have fully resembled me, they would stop reeking of innocence, and I would be able to tolerate them.
So, I felt my fingers tighten in her scalp, as my greed took control of the kiss, she moaned painfully in my mouth, but I refused to let her break the kiss.
“Urgh…” She moved her head slightly, and I slammed her against the door, my hand reaching for her swollen chest, the overwhelming urge to take her right here in the office.
“Theron.” She finally stopped me. It was hard, but I stopped—barely. “I am on duty; we can't do this here.”
“That doesn’t matter. I want you.” I murmured darkly, my voice drunken with the need of this woman. I smirked, realizing that I should never let her know just how much power she had over me.
And how easily it would be for her to control me.
“I can’t just forgive you, just because you said sorry.” She complained as she shoved me to the side. “I am not even sure if you meant your apology.”
My breathing was ragged.
“How can I prove it?” I asked, just pressed with the need for the time being.
“Be more open to each other—We are husband and wife; the only time we don’t share any secrets is when we are having sex.” She continued, her cheeks flushed slightly, and I smiled. “I don’t want that—I can help you, but I want to feel valued while doing it, and I want to be sure that you will honor every deal we make, that I can trust you.”
“I don’t know how to do what you are saying,” I confessed mockingly.
“I will teach you—you must be willing to learn with an open heart.” She didn’t seem so angry that I had confessed to having no intention of making the director of the hospital. In a way, it was suspicious.
But then I realized, she had probably given up. In this game of marriage, I had the amost advantage and the most power.
She is indeed wise. As fighting against it would only hurt her, acceptance is truly wisdom.
“I will make our schedule free tomorrow, come home in the morning, alone,” I whispered in her ear. “You want to open up, then we can do that.”
A small smile tugged at my lips as I got inside my car. The driver muttered some words of pleasantries that I wasn’t interested in.
I could still feel Eden underneath my fingertips, and I could taste her on my taste buds.
I want more.
No, I want all.
Everything she can give to me, I want to consume it, take it all until there is nothing left for her.
My fingers swatted some strands of my hair behind my ears, and a smile cracked my face.
“Damn, I must have gone crazy.”