Sentenced to Marriage

Chapter 63

Together Miranda insisted on keeping me in her clinic for the observation, although I truly wanted to go home and spend more time with Aren. At the same time, I knew that I shouldn’t have bothered him for a while. He had a lot to take care of. Nonetheless, I felt more lonely than ever without him. I was desperate to feel him again. I could nearly sense that he was the essential element I needed in my therapy. Certainly, he kept calling me whenever he had time to talk, but it wasn’t half as comforting as his touch or even the sole sight of him.

My bruises and the cut on my cheek were healing fast. After five days, they were almost

invisible. Unfortunately, I had to wait a little longer to remove the stitches from the wound on my head. It was one of the reasons Miranda wanted to keep me inside the clinic longer, but I could sense the real reason… As unreasonable as it was, she felt guilty, and that made her overprotective.

“Miranda, I can take care of myself. Trust me,” I coaxed. She stayed relentless. “I will release you once I’m certain that the cut on your head is healing as it should.”

I sighed, raising my hands in surrender. I knew that the time I went missing had been a horrifying experience for her as well. She told me many times just how much she was terrified, predicting the worse. She needed some form of recovery just as badly as I did, and if staying in her clinic one more day would decrease her anxiety, then I was willing to do that for her.

Finally, she removed my stitches and was left without serious reasons to keep me in a hospital bed. I almost flew out of the room and jumped for joy the entire way out of the clinic. I couldn’t wait until I was in the penthouse, and I couldn’t wait even more until I was alone with Aren.

I texted him when I was on my way. I didn’t want to call him since I knew that he was still dealing with the FBI and interrogations. Much to my surprise, he called me right after my message. “Are you sure that you are OK?” he said, worryingly. I chuckled. “I’m sure that I was OK a few days earlier.” “I’ll be home in an hour.” He ended the call before I could react. The corners of my lips curled up into a girly grin. It

wasn’t even six o’clock, and I would never expect him to leave work at this hour, and yet he was going home. He was willing to leave his work early to see me. I couldn’t help but burst into joy.

Once I stepped into the penthouse, my eyes became watery. I inhaled Aren’s scent; every room was filled with traces of his intoxicating presence. I went to my bedroom to fix my makeup and do as much as I could with my hair, and then I counted the minutes until I could see my husband.

As soon as I could hear the private elevator coming up, I rushed to wait by the door. He opened the door with his blazing eyes, ready to devour me. As he stepped through the threshold, his arms stretched to reach me and pull me into a tight embrace. His lips searched hungrily until

they found mine, claiming them with a sensual kiss. Despite his thirst and passion riling within him, his touch and caresses were gentle.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered against my neck before placing delicate kisses on my burned-up skin.

“You won’t hurt me, kissing me,” I coaxed, tangling my fingers into the silk strands of his hair.

“But there should be limits for now… right?” he asked softly, nibbling my collarbone.

I leaned back to meet his eyes and gave him a slightly wry smile. As badly as I wanted to fill the next long hours with hot, passionate sex with him, Miranda would probably kill me if I didn’t stick to her instructions and exhaust my still fragile body. Aren sighed in response, gave me another sweet kiss on the lips, and stepped back. “If I touch you more, I will not be able to control myself,” he purred, making me squeeze my thighs.

It was unfair. Those bastards not only took away my wedding ceremony but also my wedding night with Aren… and I was kind of looking forward to tasting his passion. Now, when we could hold each other again, my body was too weak to handle him.

“Have you eaten yet?” Aren looked at me questioningly, pulling out his phone to make an order.

I shook my head, suddenly feeling cold as I had already missed his touch. He smiled warmly at me and stroked my cheek. “Shrimp pasta or steaks?” he asked, letting me choose between two of my favorites. “Shrimp pasta,” I said timidly.

“Pasta it is then.”

I watched him make a call, enjoying the sight of him in his perfect suit. I still couldn’t believe that the man standing before me was my husband, my man, all mine… for the next two years. Of course, I knew that there would come a time when we would have to talk about the contract and how it fitted our reality. But I couldn’t bear to think about it at that moment. I kept recalling every minute of my imprisonment and how terrified I was, but I realized that I wasn’t afraid of losing my life as much as I was afraid of losing Aren… I acknowledged that fact, but I wasn’t ready to admit that I knew what it meant.

Once Aren completed our order, he grabbed my hand and led me to the window so we could admire the sunset over Manhattan. He stood behind me, his hands wrapped around my waist.

He lowered his head and gently nuzzled the top of mine. “I was terrified,” he said, barely audibly.

I shivered, wondering if I had heard him correctly. “W-what?” His grip around me tightened. “I was never afraid of losing anyone as much as I was afraid of losing you.” I gasped, tears drawing thin lines down my cheeks. “I was trying to make sure you wouldn’t lose me.” I smiled despite crying.

He kissed my head right by the wound. “You did a great job with that.” “I know,” I replied smugly, whilst crying. “Sunshine, you are incredible. You are the strongest woman I have ever met,” he whispered as if he were revealing the greatest secret. I smiled wryly. “I’m not strong… My body is weak and fragile. … I couldn’t even defend myself.

“Cora, baby…” He leaned down to kiss my neck “Those were men with many years of combat training. You survived, and that makes you crazy strong.”

I turned around and wrapped my arms around him and placed my head on his broad chest.” Teach me how to defend myself,” I whispered.

He chuckled. “You won’t need to defend yourself. I will never leave you again.”

I leaned back and frowned. “You cannot predict everything, and I want to know how to properly punch someone like Callan.”

Aren laughed and placed a quick kiss on my lips. “All right. I will teach you, but you have to recover first.”

I nodded agitatedly, willing to wait and then accept the hardest training as long as it would let me feel less helpless the next time I faced danger.

We stood in a tight embrace until our food delivery came. Then we sat by the table and ate our dinner while constantly maintaining some form of physical contact; either we held hands, tangling our fingers, or touched each other’s feet and legs under the table. It was foolish, obnoxiously sweet, and I loved every second of it. Perhaps we truly started to behave like newlyweds in a real relationship…

“Would you like to drink more wine, wife?” Aren grinned slyly, opening another bottle before I replied.

“Yes please, husband dearest,” I smirked, pointing at my glass. We sat and stared at each other, smiling. I could feel that he missed me just as much as I missed him. We enjoyed our comforting silence, but there were still unavoidable subjects that we had to discuss.

“Do you have any idea who might be behind it?” I asked before finishing the glass of wine. He sighed. “A lot of people hate me. Fortunately, there are only a few who could pull off such an attack.”

“I think it was something more than business. The way he talked to me… and tried to touch me… It was personal,” I claimed.

“Wait…” Aren narrowed his eyes at me. “That fucker touched you?” His voice was calm, but his black irises blazed with fury.

I swallowed and smiled nervously. “Well… He touched my thigh. I spat in his face, and then he slapped me…”

“Was the cut on your face from him?” he hissed.

“Yes.” Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

He punched the table with his fist. I smiled faintly at him and stretched my hand out to stroke his whitened knuckles.

“My cheek is almost completely healed, and you shouldn’t blow off your anger on the poor table. Save your strength for the moment we find that bastard,” I said confidently. He smirked, “For the moment “we” find him?” “Of course!” I grinned. “We are a husband and a wife already. We are in this together.” He leaned forward on the table and delicately placed his hand on the back of my head. “I like the sound of that.” His deep, alluring voice kept resonating within me while he sealed my lips with another sensual kiss.