A Beauty So Cursed by Beena Khan

Chapter 15

Over three weeks passed by in silence.

Miran didn’t talk to me anymore, and it was killing me.

He didn’t call me for dinner anymore. He cooked and left the food either on the table or the refrigerator, and I would get it myself sometime later.

There were no dressing and undressing games either.

Everything was finished, and it hurt so bad.

We were two strangers living in the house.

When he returned from work, I heard noises of him shuffling in through the door. I didn’t go out to greet him, and neither did he greet me. He returned to his room shortly after.

Bailey was always around me.

I felt less lonely around her.

My only friend was my guide dog.

It was pathetic.

Once I figured he’d returned to his room, I tiptoed outside my door, toward the kitchen to eat dinner.

Oof. I bumped into a hard body when I walked down the hallway. A familiar scent wavered under my nose.

Miran. What was he still doing out here? It was the first time we had any contact in weeks. I waited for him to speak first.

“Foods on the table.”

I closed my eyes at his voice and dropped my head low. I waited for him to say something about us, but no words followed.

I nodded and opened my eyes, gaze still cast on the floor. I was afraid if I looked up, he would see the agony and desolation in my eyes. Water was hurting my dry, sandpaper eyes. I turned around to leave, realizing I wasn’t worth his time anymore. My shoulders sagged, and I took a few steps forward.

“Did you dress fine today?”

I paused.

I hadn’t heard his voice in so long.

The only time I’d heard it was when I dreamt about him at night.

My eyes flew up, but I kept my back turned to him. My lips formed a trembling smile, but it faded slowly, recalling a memory.

I don’t want to see your face.

I glanced over my shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

“It’s… fine,” I replied softly.

“Eyes on me.”

His demand made me lift my eyes. I never knew why he wanted my eyes on him when he already knew that it was pointless. It shouldn’t matter where my eyes looked. The sad reality of my life always burned through me.

Expressions. Emotions. Bodies. Faces.

I could feel them, but my stare would always be blank.

The dark always called out to me.

I didn’t know if our relationship—well, I don’t know what we were—would progress or not, but I was so tired. I wanted to wake up with a clean slate and forget everything that happened in the past month.

That means forgetting Miran too, my inner voice chided.

“I would like to return to my family.”

I wish my voice was louder.

I’m a burden on you.

Cold silence greeted me once again. I hated the silence with people. Not having any cues on their reactions, it burned my heart every time, pondering over their reply.

And I don’t think you feel the same.

“No. You’re not safe with them.”

I frowned. I hadn’t expected that.

“I… I… you can’t keep me here.”

“Says who?”

My eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s kidnapping.”

“People think I kidnapped you anyway.”

He sounded amused.

I exhaled slowly before I rubbed the back of my neck. This wasn’t how I planned on having a conversation with him after three long weeks.

“I’m going to call the police,” I whined in desperation.

“Did you forget who I am?”

My stupid lower lip was trembling again, and I bit it down. Forcing myself to keep breathing, a force of rage built up inside of me. I was one second away from losing my temper. He didn’t want me, yet he didn’t want me to leave either. That wasn’t fair to me at all after everything that had happened. We couldn’t return to strangers again.

“You’re an asshole,” I seethed out, my voice trembling as I spoke, “Just like everyone else. You want to cage me too.”

The spark of madness had taken over me, and I was ready to bite his head off with my accusations.

“What did you just… call me?”

My body convulsed and quavered that I had taken things too far. His voice was too tense, and it unsettled my insides. I held my head up high and held my ground, gluing my feet to the spot. My hands were twitching and jumpy.

“Repeat that.”

It sounded like a dare.

Challenge accepted.

I raised my chin higher, sticking my nose in the air.

“Asshole,” I repeated. “Asshole. Asshole!”

In a few quick steps, he was in front of me, and my mouth shut down automatically.

“Why are you arguing with me like a toddler? See this is the problem.”

I didn’t like how he was speaking to me like I was a child. My hands reached up and dug into my scalp in frustration.

“You don’t want me.”

I wish you did.

“My Papa had forced me into a marriage, and my brothers agreed with it. Sir Alexei and Pakhan, no one interfered. Then you….” I bitterly smiled, the truth pouring out of me. I needed to get it off my chest, otherwise, I might just explode. “You came out of nowhere and you helped me. You helped me when my loved ones turned against me. I thought you… I thought you…y…” my voice trailed off.

“You thought what?” his voice came out.

I hated how calm and low his voice was when I was the opposite.

A tear left my eye before it trailed down my cheek.

“I thought you regretted your decision not to marry me, and you had changed your mind. I thought you were going to take me with you, to your house, as your bride.”

He inhaled sharply.

I continued, “You rejected the proposal the first time. It crushed me. Then, you came to my wedding and took me with you. It filled my heart with hope again that you returned…” I bit down on my fingers nervously. “But you took me to the safehouse, and I realized I was just a part of your… civil duty. I meant nothing. After I fell, you returned to me again. We started becoming close… and I felt hope… yet again. Then you crushed it. Again. And I’m a fool for letting it get this far.”

There I said it, and I felt so pathetic.

My savior in my fairytale didn’t turn out to be a prince.

He was just a savior, and he wasn’t anything more.

“Do you have any idea what’s it like to give someone hope then take it away? Do you know that feeling? Do you know what it’s like giving false hope to someone like me?” I cried out. “It’s not just because I’m blind. It’s because I’m scarred!”

There were no happy endings for a beast in a story.

And I’d been a beast my entire life.

Never the beauty.

“I was only helping you at the wedding,” he said at last. “I didn’t know you took it the wrong way then. That wasn’t my intention.”

Whatever pieces of my heart were left shattered.

“Really?” I accused, hysterically, “Which man risks everything for a woman he has no feelings for? You’re no saint, Miran. That night in the shower proved it.”

He inhaled sharply like I cut him deep.

Good. He deserved to be hurt the same way he’d hurt me.

“I did the same for Dahlia,” he replied in a low voice, “I helped her in a bad time too.”

I didn’t know the details of his past, but I didn’t believe that it was the same.

“When will you realize, Miran? You’ve done so much more this time,” I replied, my voice laced with despair, “You chose to help me instead of listening to Pakhan. You have waged war with the Bratva over me. You have not only risked your job, your position, your duty, but you have even risked crossing your family, and you’ve risked your life… for me. And you continue to do it.”

His breath hitched.

“All my life people have called my names and have spoken ill about me… and you were the first one that didn’t.” My lower lip trembled as I struggled to breathe. “You wanted me to hate you that night. Why?” my voice cracked. “You said you didn’t want to see my face.”

He was quiet, so quiet. It was like he was barely even there.

Then he spoke.

“Because I couldn’t face you… It wasn’t about your scars.”

Oh… but why?

“I don’t understand you,” I said, shaking my head. “You come near me. My pain bothers you. One second, you’re hot, the next second you’re cold. You want me, but you’re… denying it,” I accused, “You ache for me like I ache for you! Why can’t you just admit you feel for me?” I asked in defeat, staring at the ground as tears rolled down my face.

“Eyes on me.”

Was he freaking serious?

I glanced up and bared my teeth.

How did he like me now?

After realizing it was a stupid move, I frowned and reached up to wipe my tears. I had enough of him, and losing my appetite, I turned around and marched back to my room. When I became closer to the bedroom, a hand grabbed me from moving any further. I squealed and tried to swat Miran away. With two quick movements, he jerked my hand forward and opened the door to a room, dragging me behind him.

It wasn’t his room.

It didn’t smell like it.

“Where am I?” I shrieked, “I don’t belong to you, Miran!”

I tried to shove him back, and he let me, but my back hit a wooden plank. My hands rested on the edge, catching my balance. It was familiar. I had several like these at home too. I roamed my hands on it, feeling the surface. I turned my back, and my hands lifted, and they began their miniatures of exploring the unfamiliar territory. A sweet, musky smell like wood and vanilla filled me.

Could it be…?

My hand landed on thin pages, and I ran it across the row.

A bookshelf.

My body floated in the room, taking steps, and running hands down the rows. I moved back, exploring. More bookshelves. My feet moved as I walked in fascination around the room, skimming across the surfaces and inhaling the scent. It was the unknown room. It was always hidden from me before. Every corner, every angle of the room was covered with books. My hand fell on one, curious, I picked it up and opened the first page. My shaky hands skimmed the page, and I almost dropped the book in shock. I moved my hand again from left to right on each line, the raised dots hitting my fingertips.

Braille.

I closed the book shut, and my heart came to life and pounded faster than ever.

Awe and bewilderment filled me as I lay a hand to my chest.

“You mentioned you liked reading,” Miran’s timber voice whispered.

I reached out a hand to look for the missing spot on the bookshelf. I placed the book back, but I didn’t turn to face him.

“I’ve always left this room locked in case you stumbled on it. I was going to tell you about it at a better time… I’ve been working on this room for weeks. I built this library for you.”

I really didn’t want to cry again, and I tried hard not to, but I failed at that. My already splotchy face was covered in dreadful tears again. I must look like a mess. Panic settled into my bones that I wasn’t attractive to him anymore.

“How did you afford it?” I squeaked, looking for a distraction. “They can cost up to a hundred dollars per book.”

I come from a family of billionaires, and Miran did too once… but the Ivanov family mansion was destroyed a long time ago. He was still wealthy, but he had a normal job.

He chuckled. “When I turned eighteen, my mother gave me access to her trust fund. She still has billions. I used somewhat of that money to fund my education in the DEA academy, and I haven’t touched the rest of that money since then.”

I tilted my head to the side, listening, but didn’t turn around fully.

“I’ve been working for years,” he continued, “I have two homes. Braille books are rare, and they took time to make… but it was worth it. I placed custom orders for you. Everything I do is… for you. I would do anything to see you smile at me again after what happened between us. The shit I caused.”

I smiled weakly at his heart on his sleeve.

I clutched my chest tighter and breathed hard.

When I didn’t reply, he asked quietly, “Did I succeed? Are you smiling?”

The vulnerability in his voice just made me a sniveling mess again. I quickly wiped my face, hoping to resolve any tears, and turned around. I just nodded fiercely because my tongue refused to move. I kept wiping my face, holding my cries in, but the tears kept on falling.

They were no longer tears of pain anymore, but … joy.

“You’re beautiful when you cry.”

I stopped wiping my eyes, immediately, stumped. The pulse at my throat jumped, and I stared blankly, open-mouthed.

Footsteps moved toward me, and I stepped back until my back hit the bookshelf.

My three senses hit me all at once.

His smell. His heartbeat. His breath fanned against my face that I could almost taste him.

“When you cry, your tears bring out the gold specks in your eyes.”

His words made my heart tingle again. I sucked in a breath when his chest pressed against mine.

“I love the way they’re afraid right now of what I’m about to do,” my breath hitched, and he continued, “You don’t belong to me? Well, I fucking belong to you.”

He put so much force behind those words, and it ignited a deep fire within me.

Without warning, Miran’s mouth slipped onto mine.

Finally.

It was a bruising kiss of dark promise.

The hard press of his lips against mine. The tips of his fingers digging into my jaw as my mouth opened for him. Taking the invitation, his tongue swept in, and I could taste a hint of mint in his mouth. His movements were bold and confident, and mine were awkward. I tried to match his movements, but I think I was doing a terrible job at it. His tongue swirled and teased my own. The hard bristle of his beard scraped against the delicate skin of my cheeks and chin.

My arms wrapped around his strong, masculine shoulders, pulling him closer to me. Heat flushed through my body as he sucked my lower lip. My pulse throbbed in my veins. Hunger unfurled out of me, and small sparks of fire followed everywhere his hand moved. My breaths were getting heavier, and it was a struggle to breathe as he sucked the air right out of me.

He left me breathless.

He was intoxicating.

His mouth owned mine.

His lips conquered mine.

My knees wobbled, and a hand reached out to grip my hip to steady me. My back dug deeper against the bookshelf, leaving no room to leave. The taste and touch of him consumed me.

I whimpered when his mouth left mine.

I was just about to pull him back, but he spoke hoarsely, “That night in the shower,” My ears perked up, ready to listen, “I did something earlier that day that I’ve… never done before.”

I didn’t follow his words at all, but I wanted more information.

“What happened?” I breathed.

Now, you wanna be soft after screaming at him? my inner voice chimed in.

I ignored her and focused on the man in front of me.

“Tell me!” I urged when he didn’t answer. I still gripped his shoulders, and I dug my fingers, hoping that would convince him to reveal the truth to me.

“You are beautiful when you are impatient, and I’ve listened to you when you spoke… but,” he emphasized dangerously, “I am not as pretty when I’m impatient. If you talk again, I will wrap your mouth around something hard.”

My mouth snapped shut, leaving me dumbfounded.

I kind of liked it when he talked like that.

I almost wanted to ask him how hard he was.

“I’m afraid,” he revealed after a beat.

I tilted my head and furrowed my eyebrows. I wanted to question him, but he’d commanded me to be quiet. I didn’t mind being wrapped around, but I wanted to hear him first.

“I’m afraid that you might not look at me the same way you did once before.”

I frowned. He was talking in riddles, and I wanted him to clarify.

“If I do something evil… will you hate me?”

My lips parted, trying to understand his question. Knowing that was my cue to talk, I shook my head. “No.” Then I asked, curiously, “What kind of evil act?”

“What if there was no difference between me and the Bratva?” his voice sounded conflicted.

Fiercely shaking my head, I replied, “You are a different breed.”

He chuckled. “Maybe you’re from the mob, which might be why you’re more accepting of it. If you weren’t… you would have run from me as you should. I’m not the kind of man you have pictured me to be. There’s… darkness to me.”

I reached up my hands, fumbling in the dark before they cupped his cheeks. I liked the way his beard moved against my hands as I rubbed it. “You are nothing like Papa. You are nothing like… Sasha.” Then, I exhaled slowly, “You are nothing like Pakhan.”

“Alexander?” he questioned, confused.

I changed the topic quickly. “You helped me, Miran, when everyone else turned their back on me. That’s not an evil act. That’s a selfless act. You put me before yourself.” My lips formed a heartbreaking smile. “You were there for me when the whole world was against me.” My throat ended up cracking and I cleared it. “And I love you.”

I squeaked out that part like a little mouse.

“What?” he murmured.

I pressed my lips tightly, and I couldn’t believe I’d admitted that. After a few painful moments, I spoke, “It’s not hard to fall for you, Miran. And that dark side you speak of?”

My lips twitched into a smile.

“Well, lubimyy, I’ve lived in darkness my whole life.”

Beloved.

The next second, his mouth was on me again. His kiss was demanding and full of raw need. The dark portion of my soul craved more. I liked the passion, the danger, the thrill of the way he kissed me. It consumed me. He wanted me. I’d had men want me before but for the wrong reasons.

With him, it was… different and right.

A warm, dizzy sensation crawled over my body, tingling and damping me in places. I squeezed my legs together to suppress the ache there. A soft moan escaped from my mouth, and he grunted against me. The tension was maddening.

I could feel his erectness in his pants pressed against mine that set off the butterflies in my stomach. This was finally happening. His arms let me go, and my body swayed for a second without his support.

Grasping my face with both hands, his mouth swooped down to claim mine. Growing more confident in the kiss, I battled his tongue. His hands lifted me by the waist, pulling up my dress to reveal my legs, and wrapped them around his hips. He pressed my back against the bookshelf, and it rocked with us.

Miran’s mouth danced around mine. My hand crept up to grasp the material of his shirt. His kisses. They were everything. All consuming. By the time he was done kissing me, I could barely remember my name, let alone what we were doing. We were both breathing hard, and his heart pounded against mine.

My hands wandered to his hips, untucking his shirt from his pants, and pulling it above his head. It disappeared from my hands, and my hands groped the back of his large back, touching, feeling everything that I couldn’t that night. My dress was pulled above my head, and the cold air hit my heated skin.

His hands were all over me, leaving no part of me untouched. They latched onto the cups of my bra, unclasping the back until they revealed my naked breasts.

My cry of alarm was cut off when his hot wet mouth left my swollen, bruised lips and closed over one already erect nipple. He pulled it deep into his mouth, engulfing it, swirling it around in his mouth. His touch dusted my body.

I was lost. So lost in him.

“Mir,” I whispered hoarsely.

My fingers clawed at his shoulders and upper arms.

His mouth bit me hard, making me moan.

“Ouch…”

We rotated positions. Still carrying me, my bare back pressed against the soft leather spines of the bookshelves. A rush of cold air hit my heated skin when his hands lifted my underwear aside, pulling until I was full on display for him. I wished I had worn a racier one. Racier ones were sexier, I believed. Mine was cotton. I hissed when he inserted a finger inside my center, not roughly, but enough to make me yelp and scratch him.

“You’re trying to use your kiska claws on me?” he chided with a dark laugh. “Don’t worry, you can draw your nails all you want when I’m so deep in you.”

One finger turned into two, breaching my opening. I choked a painful sound, and he stilled.

“I’m just warming you up,” he whispered. “If this hurts, then it will definitely hurt when I have you.”

I relaxed my legs, and he groaned a low, dangerous sound. My slickness coated his skin. My muscles clung to his fingers, pulling him deeper inside as he eased his way inside. Pleasure replaced the pain, and it didn’t hurt anymore.

He established a slow rhythm, and I leaned my head against the bookshelves, holding the edge of the shelves. He was doing this against the gift he’d made for me, and it was enthralling. Miran’s breathing deepened as he pumped his fingers into me. I was getting wetter by the second. The throbbing pain spread throughout my body at the slow pace he kept. I exhaled, and I rocked my hips against him. The pad of his thumb flicked against my sensitive skin, and I shattered into a thousand pieces right before him.

My world tilted again when we moved again, doors opened, and his mouth nuzzled my neck. A whimper left my mouth, and I was still feeling the aftermaths of my release. I was dropped in the air, my bottom landing on the soft fabric of the mattress.

His room.

The scent was familiar.

The rest of our clothes came off too.

I glanced to my right, at the sounds of him opening a draw and a wrapper. Before I could ask him questions, his bare body brushed against mine, skin against skin. My breasts rubbed against the soft hairs on his chest. He moved away from my face, and his warm breath breathed down on my erect nipple. His mouth licked and laved me again.

“This might hurt again,” Miran whispered.

His tongue swept in, overpowering mine and tasting my mouth again. With a tight grip on my wrists, he pushed into me slowly, inch by inch. His size was too big for my small body, and my muscles clenched against him. I gasped in his mouth, and my eyes filled with tears. I was trapped underneath his weight, and he thrust deeper into me until he fully sheathed into me.

He paused, waiting for me to adjust.

I whimpered again, but this time, he swallowed my cries with another kiss. My tight walls squeezed him as he drove deeper into me. Our breathing was getting heavier, and his movements were slower and gentler than the side I’d seen of him before.

His mouth skimmed over my cheeks and eyes, tasting my salty eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cry.”

My cheeks burned as I inhaled a shaky breath.

As he thrust into me, my body shifted back, and my head grazed the headboard. Caught off guard, I yelped and his—it made my eyes water—hand pressed against the back of my head.

I wanted him to ravish me in every way possible.

All of me was for all of his.

His hand left my head while the other remained covering it. His fingers slipped up my side, over my sensitive nipples. He brushed it with his thumb, the touch soft like a feather.

He shifted his hips to pull out halfway before thrusting in deep. He continued moving in slow movements, and he was holding back. I could tell. This wasn’t his style. It was something new to him.

The pain had lessened, and my body was slowly responding.

“Miran,” I whispered, “Take me like you wanted to in the shower.”

He paused, and I was afraid I’d blurted out the wrong thing.

His hands slipped over my sweaty temple, pushing my hair back, as he gripped my head. “Gold.” His breath landed against my lips. “Remember that word always.”

He lifted my leg over his back, changing the angle. Then, with a powerful movement, his hips rocked into mine.

I cried out, baring my neck, and his sharp teeth sunk into my skin. My slick heat coated him as he kept a steady rhythm. He increased his pace, dropping his body weight on me. I couldn’t escape from him, and I sure as hell didn’t want to.

He buried his head into my hair as he bit the soft flesh of my neck, marking me as his. I raked my nails against his shoulders, and he groaned against me. A sticky liquid rubbed against my fingers, and I think I’d drawn out blood. Miran hummed in approval as he sucked my nipple into his mouth. I tensed and shuddered under him, and he twitched inside of me.

He hit deeper than before, and his mouth left my nipple before claiming my mouth again. Wrapping both of my legs around his shoulders now, his breaths came closer to me, like he was a part of me.

Two bodies.

One soul.

My hips tilted up to meet his, and my heart thumped wildly. I didn’t know what people who could see felt in this moment. In books, it was mentioned, the heroine closed her eyes. All they saw was darkness. It made me smile that I was similar in ways. I couldn’t tell what my body looked like. What my face looked like. I could only assume. I didn’t have to worry about my expressions or the judgment in his eyes.

Seeing didn’t matter when all I did was feel.

All was lost when I splintered into pieces again.

Shortly, after he released in me.

Miran pulled out of me. I sucked in a sharp breath and closed my legs. He kissed my neck before rising and moving around the room. My ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. I closed my eyes, still blissful. A few moments later, I inhaled the familiar cedar scent, and I smiled.

He was back.

“This might sting,” Miran murmured as he parted my legs open again.

I was confused and before I could question, a wet, warm thin cloth, possibly a towel, pressed in between my legs. I winced, tensed, but then I realized when the warmth of the soft fabric helped ease the pain of my torn flesh.

He always took care of me.

“Are you planning on protecting me my entire life?” I joked, grinning in the darkness.

After a heartbeat, he replied, “Always.”