Chapter 92

Ian woke up at the first light of dawn, his body vibrating with desire. It took him a moment to understand where he was and who was resting with quiet abandon, against him. His omega. 

He thought that he was the only one who was relaxed. 

Eden must have moved during the night, because she now had her arm across his body, and her hand by some coincidence? Her hand was precisely on a part of his cock... which was almost painfully erect. 

The night had been very frustrating. Ian had thought she was willing, ready to give herself to him, but something had gone wrong. 

Was she still hurt by Ivan’s betrayal? Or had he not understood anything, and had not realized that Eden was too nervous to respond to his caresses? 

The temptation was great to send her nightgown waltzing, lift his and take her in a half-sleep, before she had time to be afraid.

"No, you can't do that," his alpha had whispered, Ian resisted the urge to move his hips under her hand. 

No half-asleep lovemaking. Eden had to be fully awake, know what he was doing, and be fully involved. 

Ian took a long time to fall asleep, wondering about Eden’s reactions. It seemed like the reaction of a virgin, not the reaction of an omega who had already fallen for such an experienced debauchee as Ivan. 

After all, it might have been the effect of pregnancy, but Ian was not intimate enough with the young mothers in his family or neighborhood to be able to ask them if this was a common reaction for a pregnant omega.

Ian slowly slid out of bed. As he did so, he clearly saw traces of tears on his wife’s cheeks. She had cried on their wedding night.

Ian didn't know what to tell her, or how to comfort her. "You're safe now... I don't look like my brother, even though you probably see him every time you look at me... I won't abandon you or your baby...I promise.

“ I will look after you,” he finally whispered.

But Eden knew that, surely. 

It was as if he needed something else, something he didn't know how to give her. 

Ian gently opened the door between the suites, walked through his bathroom, which he also closed, and went into his room. 

Even though it wasn't his, but Ivan’s, just as the candy pink apartment wasn't meant for his wife, but for a whore. 

He was not in the habit of sleeping in his nightgown. He pulled it over his head, threw it into a corner and threw himself onto the bed.

He could see himself in the mirror, naked and still erect. Next to his brother, elegant and so slender, he had always felt like a farmhand. 

Certainly it was not Ivan who would have risked damaging his white hands by helping his farmers to gather the crops before the rain, or turning his delicate complexion brown by keeping company with the shepherds near their flocks at dawn and dusk. 

Nor would he have carried heavy beams on his shoulders in the midst of the other men, on various building sites in the castle. 

His brother hated sport, and would not have stood for a second to find himself sweating and bruised in a boxing ring, let alone in some pleasant inn laughing and drinking with cheerful companions who, half an hour before, had tried with all their might to make you bite the dust. 

Nor would he ever have ventured out on an obstacle course, clinging to a horse. 

While Ian was enjoying these exercises, he was indulging in the softness of the game rooms and the balls. 

Finding a healthy energy in this comparison, Ian got up, put on a robe and rang for coffee. 

He had never wanted to compete with his brother. He was certainly not going to start after his brother's death, and not in the field of sexual exploits, either.

Besides, he knew he was not fighting against rational obstacles, such as a rival's good looks, intelligence or charm, but against a broken heart and betrayal. 

He had seen traces of tears on Eden’s face. Ian didn't want her to cry, but to smile at him, even blushing a little. 

He wanted to make her laugh, sigh and moan in his arms.

Damn it! He had thought he was clear, honest and rational in his demands. Too much so, perhaps. He had operated a little with Eden, he realized now, like when he hired a staff member. 

You don't build a relationship with someone the way you hire a new valet. He had presented it to her bluntly, as a duty, which Eden had to fulfill. 

And now he was completely frustrated, because he didn't want to wake her up in the morning, let alone see her seized by anxiety. 

Ian wanted to protect Eden from the world. What was happening to him? Couldn't he feel compassion for the betrayer and scorned woman that Eden was without worrying about his feelings? After pacing back and forth in his room, Ian came to the conclusion that he was thinking too much.

Eden had been seduced by Ivan, but after all, she was old enough to know what she was doing, and she was not stupid. 

She had gotten herself into a mess, and he, Ian, had gotten her out of it. Now they were inseparably linked to each other. 

Ian was not used to omegas feeling anything but pleasure in his arms. He smiled while thinking that there lay the origin of his disorder: a wound of self-esteem.

“Well, one thing at a time,” he commented aloud, tonight will be another night. Franklin, his valet, poked his head through the checkroom door, a little surprised.

“-Excuse me, my lord?”

“Nothing, nothing... Coffee, Franklin... and a horse's outfit, I want to go and have a look at the Hundred Acre Wood.”