A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 12

Miran couldn’t look away.

Sometimes he got lost looking at her. From the way, she chewed on the corner of her mouth sometimes. To the way, her emerald eyes lit up when she rambled. His gaze dropped from her face before they landed on her soft lips. He needed a taste again, and the caveman in him wanted to lunge at her.

So fucking beautiful.

He wanted to pull her back by the hair and demand her to reveal what she truly thought of him already. He licked his warm lips, remembering her sweet taste.

Trailing his gaze downward, his eyes dropped to her long-sleeve polka dot red dress that ended at her knees. The material was thin, and he could see the outline of her black bra. Her soft, creamy tits pushed against the fabric, playing peek-a-boo. If he stared hard enough, he could see the shadows of the freckles on her skin. If he was a better man, he would have told her that her dress was see-through when he’d seen her come out wearing it. He liked watching her in it. Whenever her heartbeat quickened or her body trembled, her chest rose up and down, they drew his eyes to her every little movement like a sick bastard.

He’d already seen her naked. She clearly had no issues with him dressing and undressing her, she wouldn’t mind him taking a good look either. Still, he never turned her around and always took off her bra and panties from behind. Even when she undressed before him today, inviting him to look, he looked away after a few seconds.

Her age still bothered him sometimes. She was blind, and it made him feel guilty when he checked her out. He shouldn’t feel the need to hide his boner, but he averted his body as if she had a third eye.

She nodded regarding his earlier statement, and he placed Bailey’s chain in her hand, He slowed his footsteps down purposely, so she walked a few steps in front of him. Her mid-chest hair glowed under the watchful sun. It was a deep, dark reddish-brown that was now framed by a red bow on the back of her head even though her hair was wet. Raking a hand through his damp hair, he resisted the urge to pull off her bow.

She was too proper and classy for him.

She didn’t belong in the Bratva either. If she was born in another lifetime, she would have been a queen. He diverted his eyes as they made their way back to the cabin in silence. He glanced up at the darkening clouds and the pink and peach sunset. Night was going to fall soon. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he continued walking.

After that long day at work, he hadn’t revealed to Lada, yet that Chris Walker was releasing tomorrow. He still didn’t know how to keep Lada safe in the cabin while not risking his job either.

Dripping wet, they were inside the cabin. He eyed the outside windows, took in his surroundings, and locked the door. Setting the security system, he closed the shades and curtains and turned back around when she spoke.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

He was just about to reply but paused when he realized she wasn’t done, “I think I need… help with that.”

Did I hear her correctly?

He blinked rapidly, stumped at the small pink-face creature in front of him. Her long dark eyelashes peeked up at him, and the lake water still clung to her clothes. Jealousy stirred in the pit of his stomach that something besides him was touching her. Sometimes, he felt she wasn’t blind at all when she looked at him so hopeful with those bright eyes of hers.

Okay, now this was getting out of hand, but he sure as hell wouldn’t stop it. Maybe he should protest and call her out, but he didn’t want to end things too soon. Although, he wondered, how long she was going to continue this charade?

Every time, in their game, they took a step forward.

First, came the dressing.

Then, the undressing.

And now showering?

She continued giving an innocent eye look.

“I drop the soap a lot, and my feet slip,” she added.

Just admit you want me, he urged in his mind.

Disappointment filled him when she didn’t.

Why don’t you just tell her? his inner voice scolded.

Perhaps it was her age. Perhaps it was the lack of her experience. Her innocence.

It felt too taboo. Forbidden. An abomination.

Perhaps because he’d never wanted someone in a way that he wanted her, not just body wise, but mind and soul too. It was an unfamiliar, terrifying feeling that he was unused to. He never had a serious relationship before. Everything was casual before, and this time… it was different.

He cleared his throat and raked a hand through his thick hair, ruffling it. His once tired eyes lit up now.

Little games he could play.

Admitting feelings wasn’t him.

“Alright,” he agreed as a lightbulb went off in his head. Holding in a devious smirk, he asked, “My bedroom or yours?”

Lada’s lips parted, and her eyes turned startled. The bottom of her lip was slightly fuller than her top one, forming a cute little cupid’s bow.

“Your bedroom’s bathroom or mine?”

Her pink cheeks reddened against her ivory skin.

“Oh… I…. Oh.”

Don’t play if you can’t handle it.

She gave a shy smile. “Mine works.”

After a moment, she stretched out Bailey’s chain. He grabbed it, and she turned around quickly. In the house, she used Bailey less. He shortened the dog’s chain, and Bailey walked away. He silently followed behind Lada and paused at her doorway as he watched her holding a pajama set that hung in her closet.

“Miran, are you here?”

“Yes.”

“What color is this?” she asked.

“Green.”

Like your eyes.

She paused, her gaze like a frantic deer caught in headlights. He guessed he spoke that word out loud. He tried not to enjoy how much she squirmed like a small kitten and how she rubbed the back of her neck. She exhaled a ragged breath and stared meekly at the floor.

“What color are yours?” she asked breathlessly.

“Light brown.”

“Brown as in the ground brown or the sunlight light brown?”

“You can tell the difference?” he asked, curious.

Her lips twitched, and that little smile squeezed his dead heart. “Yes, I can recall the colors I knew before I lost my eyesight.”

“You could say they’re like honey.”

She was rubbing her chin like she was thinking hard.

He swallowed hard and forced the words that he was thinking out. “Do you want to touch my face?”

Lada's lips formed a grin that dazzled him. He blinked slowly, his eyes drawn to her bare mouth. Her cupid pretty lips were a pale pink. Then, she automatically stopped smiling and cleared her throat, trying to compose her excitement.

He looked at her, amused.

“Alright,” she replied after a second.

His eyes were still on her mouth, and her lips were slightly moving, even though she wasn’t speaking. He realized she was counting the steps. She paused at the doorway where he was. He purposely, silently, stepped back a few steps.

“You’re too far,” he murmured.

She pressed her lips together in confusion.

“Oh, I assumed you would be here.”

Two steps forward.

“You’re still far. Come closer.”

Her eyes darted up, and she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

One more step.

There was only a foot distance between them, and she didn’t need to come closer, but he wanted to play some more. It was hard not to tease her, the same way she’d been teasing him.

Playing was frustrating, but it was easier.

Talking made it more real.

“Closer,” he whispered, his voice dropping low.

Lada gulped deeply, and she took multiple steps. Her face collided with his hard chest, and her hands lifted to brace the impact. His arms stayed limp by his sides as he stared. Her breaths came out more rapidly, and her chest rose up and down. If he peered down, he could see the outline of her soft swells. She was overwhelming to be around, and her sandalwood scent absorbed him.

“I think,” she smiled nervously, “I took too many steps.”

“No. You’re fine right here.”

She lost her smile, and her dewy eyes became glassier.

“Do you want to touch me?” he murmured.

Lada exhaled slowly, and her breath landed on his chest. She was too tiny, barely reaching his shoulders. With a trembling hand, she reached up.

“Higher,” he guided.

She listened.

“To the right.”

Again, she listened.

Her face was right in front of his face now.

“Right there.”

Her fingertips traced his thick, tousled hair, running a hand through them. His shoulder sagged as the tension in his body left. He relaxed under her touch. It was comforting.

“What color?” she asked.

“Not like yours. It’s black.”

After a moment, she replied, “It’s soft.”

Her hand traced down his temples to his black eyebrows before dropping to his eyelids. He closed his eyes while she traced his wet eyelashes with her soft fingertips.

“Your lashes might be longer than mine,” she joked.

He hid a smile. “I trim them sometimes.”

She gasped, and he popped open the eye she wasn’t touching.

“You what?” she accused. “I don’t know why you have long lashes just to cut them.”

When he didn’t reply, she frowned, and her hand trailed down to his prominent, strong nose. Now, the palm of her hands pressed lightly against his cheeks, skimming her fingertips through his trimmed beard on his angular jawline.

He sighed silently as his nerves tingled in pleasure. His mouth ran dry as he glanced at her face. She was too focused on the task, frequently moistening her lips, and her bright, glossy eyes were trained on his chest.

“I have a dimple,” he said after a moment.

A dimmed expression formed on her face.

“I wish I could see it.”

Her soft voice was so quiet, and it wavered like she hadn’t spoken at all. Her face reddened, and a sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead. He grabbed her warm hand and pulled it toward his cheek where the dimple lay.

She stilled, and his Adam’s apple bobbled every time he swallowed. His thoughts froze every time she looked at him. His heart pounded and his body temperature rose. Maybe he should join her in her little shower later. The hair on the nape of his neck stiffened, and his breaths came out short and fast.

“Feel it,” he said with a tiny smile.

Her eyes lit up when her fingers ran over the indention on his flesh.

Exhaling slowly, she slowly lost her smile when her fingers that traced his cheek went to his lips. She hesitated for a couple of seconds, and with two fingers, she outlined his upper full lip before the tips dropped to his lower lip.

He forced himself to stay still and keep breathing. The tension that had left his body was back in full force. Blood rushed through his mind, adrenaline spiking through him. Just with her one touch, it disorientated his thoughts. The room closed in on him, and it was like she only existed for him. It took every ounce of his willpower to not sneak out his tongue and lick her little fingers. Maybe bite them too. He clenched down on his jaw, locking his tongue in with his teeth just in case.

For a second, a thought ran through his mind, wanting to return the favor, except not just on her face, he wanted to feel her body in his hands, underneath him, above him… and well, why get into that now?

With a satisfied sigh, Lada pulled her hands down and stepped back. “Thank you.”

His mouth stayed shut, and he looked away.

“You seem very handsome,” she blurted out.

Then, she clamped a hand over her mouth and looked mortified.

He arched an eyebrow, pleased. “Seem?”

Lada’s cheeks turned bright red, and she turned around, headed to the closet, and pulled out the green pajama set.

“Is this the green one?” she whispered.

After a moment, he replied, “Yes.”

In hasty, jerky movements, she kicked her shoes off. Holding in a chuckle, he followed her inside the room. His eyes followed her every moment as they entered the bathroom. She placed her clothes on the table. Moving forward, she leaned over the shower sill and turned the hot water faucet on. She must have memorized the steps and positions. Reaching out a hand, she tested the water, and with a pleased, content, wide smile she turned back around, but her body was aimed more to the left when he was in the middle of the room.

Miran paused for a second.

He wished she wouldn’t flash a precious smile like that.

He should shut her down, put an end to this game they were playing. He still had no plans of marriage with the kind of life he lived. For him, a good casual fuck was enough. Mutual consent. No phone numbers or sweet words exchanged. But when he looked at her, sleeping with her wouldn’t be enough to get her out of his system. He wanted more, and it made him afraid.

He swallowed hard as he stared at her rosy smiley face waiting for him to make a move. He’d always undressed her when her back was turned to him. This time, he would have to look. He couldn’t believe that someone who looked as innocent as her could be so deceitful, trying to make him a fool.

What if she’s not acting? What if she really doesn’t know?

The thoughts fleeted in his mind.

You are a moron if you believe that, his inner voice chided.

Fuck off, Miran replied in his mind, and get out of my head.

You asshole, I am you.

He stayed still, pondering his next move, but that was decided for him when Lada raised her arms in the air without him telling her to do so. With a clenched jaw and grinding teeth, he shoved his thoughts away. He rolled up the cuffs of his wet gray sleeves shirt to his elbows. Grazing his chin hair, he stepped closer. Leaning down, he grabbed the hem of her red dress that still clung to her slick skin before pulling it up. Dropping the dress on the marble table behind him, he eyed her again.

Curiosity killed the cat, so his greedy eyes took in his fill this time from her ruffled up wavy hair to her bare ivory skin. He stepped closer, and she inhaled a sharp breath. Still looking into her wide eyes, he reached his hands behind her soft, small back and unhooked the clasp of her bra. She let out a startled gasp when her perky tits tumbled out. They still glistened with water, and he wanted to lick it off. His body temperature rose again, and his eyes took in her body. Her hands clung to her bra, but he pulled it away from her, dropping it on the table where her dress lay.

Kneeling in front of her, he pulled her black panties down in one swift movement. She stepped out of them. Still, on the ground, he lifted his eyes, and he was at level with inner thighs. She wasn’t fully clean-shaven, and he liked that. His eyes followed the thin hair dusting her bikini line. Not a lot but enough to remind him that she was a grown woman.

Not a child. Not a teenager. A woman.

An aroma of her sex filled his nostrils.

And an animalistic growl wanted to come out.

He forced himself to stand, and he pushed her stomach back into the shower sill and dunked her head under the shower head. He smirked when she shrieked in surprise at the warm water hitting her already heated skin. She needed to cool off and so did he. His elbows and shirt were getting wet again, but he didn’t step in the shower. After a few moments, he dropped his arm from her and stared at her wet body, lingering in places he hadn’t before.

The good little girl was completely naked.

Maybe he was corrupting her… but she seemed to be doing the same to him.

Lada had a small heart-shaped face with a tiny pert nose and impossibly enormous eyes. Much too big for her face. Little collarbones popped out of her neckline. They were attractive on her. Dropping his gaze lower, he gritted his teeth at her drenched tits. His shaft thickened in his pants, and he was close to exploding. He eyed her pale rose nipples that were now erect, pointy, and begging to be sucked. Little brown freckles everywhere.

She didn’t fold her arms or hide the view from him. Her thin arms hung limply by her side. Running a wet hand down his face, he eyed her flat navel before trailing his gaze down to her taut stomach. Her wet, dark locks clung to her skin like a second skin.

With shaky fingers, she reached up to tuck the wet strands behind her ears but paused, drawing his attention to her face. She added more hair to the scarred side of the face, covering it from his view. He frowned, and a fire burned inside of him whenever she covered her face from his eyes. She did it often, and he noticed it every time.

As if she could feel his fiery stare, she asked quietly, “Are you staring at my scars?”

Your little nipples but now… yes.

His eyes flew to the right side of her face again. Reaching out a hand, he stopped at her face, wanting to trail his fingers down the cruel marks on her flesh.

“I wasn’t until you pointed them out.”

She flinched as if he wounded her and looked away.

“I don’t notice them anymore,” he admitted. “You don’t need to hide them from me or be ashamed of them. Every scar tells a survival story, and I like stories.”

Her head bobbed up, and her eyes twinkled in delight.

“Some are more visible than others,” he continued.

His own soul wore thousands of scars.

Miran tilted his head as he observed her, memorizing her delicate, pretty features.

“They’re a part of you. Sometimes, the hardest thing to wear is your own skin…. but they have been with you longer than most people have. To call them ugly is to call you ugly.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, or maybe that was the shower water still pouring down on her.

“Perhaps in the past, people may have used you or misjudged you… I won’t be one of them.”

Keeping an eye on her, he bent down to take a shampoo bottle and squeezed some of the liquid onto his hand. Rubbing his hands together, he pulled her head closer and dug his soapy fingers into her scalp. He turned her around so her back was to him. It was easier, and he didn’t think he could just look at her again without wanting to ravage her. Her long locks were silky, and his fingers glided through her tangle-free hair.

Lada’s shoulders sagged as he massaged her scalp. Pushing her forward, he rinsed her hair and did the same process with the hair conditioner. A sweet, soft, flowery scent filled the air, and her hair was clean now.

Reaching for the soap and loofa, he picked them up. Gathering the foam on the loofa when it bubbled, he rubbed it against her dainty, thin shoulders before running it down her smooth back. She arched against his touch and whimpered. She leaned against him, and her eyelids were half-closed. He towered over her easily by a good foot, and it made it easier to stare at her.

“No, not the loofa,” she mumbled.

He gritted his teeth, pulling her closer, and her back slammed against his chest. He no longer gave a shit that his shirt was wet again. She yelped at impact.

He demanded, “Then what?”

“I… I…” she stammered before her voice trailed off.

She didn’t want a loofa? Fine. He dropped it on the side of the bathtub. His still soapy hands treaded toward her cleavage before capturing both of her tits in his hands. All of her was pressed against his, and he was sure she could feel his erection against her back. She didn’t complain though. A tiny moan left her mouth, and her chest was breathing heavier into his hands. Still, her hands stayed limply by her side. Her head lolled back, resting on his chest. The water fell like rain on her, washing away the remnants of the soap.

“This good enough for you?” he drawled against her ear.

“Ahan,” she mumbled.

What the…

His intense gaze drilled into the side of her head.

Spikes of fury ran through his bloodstream. She was infuriating sometimes, and he had enough. With his thumb and forefinger, he twisted her erect little nipple, and she squealed in surprise, glancing back.

“My hand slipped,” he taunted, his breath landing on her lips. “It’s slippery,” remembering the same thing she’d said once about the soap.

He waited for her to challenge him again, but Kiska was quiet as a mouse now. Holding in a deep sigh, he pinched her again. He was a grown man, and he was losing patience with this little game they were playing once again. It left him hot and bothered every single time. And he would take a really cold shower.

Say something, he internally shouted.

Well, she yelped again if that counted.

Now, with both hands, he pulled at her nipple and stretched it out, seeing how far it would go before releasing it with a pop.

Lada buckled against him and gripped his forearms tightly, her mouth making little whimpers.

He should probably be gentle. He could pass for a gentleman with clothes on—maybe—but with clothes off, there wasn’t a gentle bone in him when it came to pure fucking. She probably hadn’t been touched before. He was sure she was a virgin, but he was unsure if Sasha Petrov had ever made a move on her. From the gleam in the man’s eyes at the wedding, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man had tried.

Clenching his jaw, he pinched her again. Hard.

“Stupid spider, huh?” he growled in her ear.

Her body sagged against his as she struggled to breathe. The shower still splashed against her, and her wet locks splashed against his clothes.

With one arm snaking around her upper chest possessively, his other open palm ran down her belly and crawled down in between her thighs. Pushing her legs apart, he cupped her sex. A half-whimper escaped her mouth, and she groaned against him as he teased her enlarged clit. Her cheeks turned pink. He tilted his head and watched her expressions the entire time. The way her mouth dropped open. The way her breaths came out in little puffs. Her fierce arousal against his hand.

She was so damn beautiful, and it was hard to keep his hands off her.

“He likes to pinch and bite when he’s upset, don’t you think so?” he murmured.

His hand only rested in between her inner thighs without invading inside. Like a wildcat, Lada rubbed against his hand for more friction, driving his hand against her wet heat. Her body twisted and bucked against his own. His own body screamed painfully in wanting to pound into her against the shower sill. Pleased at her response, he smirked. Well, that answer was good, but it wasn’t enough.

If you want it, ask for it.

“Miran,” she whispered, wetting her lips.

Her voice was weak and breathless.

It was madness.

Absolute madness.

Dropping his hold from her, he gathered soap onto his hands and rubbed his foamy hands down her skin, feeling but not really noticing her bare body. His fingers brushed against her soft folds, and she whimpered again. He withdrew his hand from her inner thighs to clean her legs.

She let out a frustrated grunt and flashed accusing eyes with her aim off. It was cute. Her pink lips pouted as her eyebrows creased. She was like an angry butterfly provoking a lion in his den. He was going to leave her high and wet like she did every time she asked him to undress her.

Tease. She was a fucking tease.

Revenge was kind of sweet now.

Beg for it.

He twisted her body around in the shower for a few moments so the shower head could spray water on her from different angles.

I should get a trophy for being such a patient man.

“You’re clean,” he said, at last, turning Lada’s body to face him.

He reached forward and turned the shower water off. His hand moved toward the right side of her face and tucked her wet locks behind her ears. Her head jerked up in surprise, and the tips of his fingers reached out to graze the edges of her bumpy brown scars that trailed from her eyebrows to her cheek.

“You’re not ugly to me,” Miran continued, remembering their earlier conversation. “When you looked at me for the first time, your eyes… they stole all my words away.”

Eye contact was a dangerous, dangerous thing, but it was lovely.

It was the art of a new beginning.

How souls caught fire.

She had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. Not because of the color, but because they lay secrets, darker and deeper than the enigmatic sea. He’d met pretty girls before, but her gaze was everything.

A galaxy lay in her eyes.

Her eyes said so much more than her mouth ever could.

They told him more than words ever could.

They admitted more than what he wanted to hear.

A fire burned in them, yearning for someone to understand while threatening to consume at the same time. If one looked closely, the same fire was within his eyes. He’d never met someone who knew what to do with the fire behind his eyes. He’d passed by many souls, but his gaze had collided with hers.

When his eyes met hers the first time, he thought she knew.

A single glance.

It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him.

One didn’t need eyes to recognize someone.

He had little demons inside his eyes, and when his gaze landed on hers, he’d never seen sparks of a fire so pretty.

Her breath hitched, and her throat bobbled when she gulped deeply as she glanced down at the floor again. Goosebumps erupted on her skin from the cold and everywhere his eyes landed. He thought she was fragile like a flower, but she changed his mind. She was fragile like a ticking bomb.

Perhaps she had never unveiled herself to anyone but him.

“If you’re afraid people can see your heart through your eyes, it’s too late,” Miran murmured, trailing a finger on her eyebrow. “You’ve forgotten that your eyes speak for you.”

She never admitted her feelings.

She’d never told him, but he knew.

“Towel is to your right,” he finished before stepping back and turning to leave. “But then again, you do know some things. You’re not a complete idiot like you pretend to be.”

Lada neither confirmed nor denied his statement and only looked stumped.

He walked out, leaving her standing there alone.