The Little Dove #3 ✔️

65. Tsuen Imperfections

"I do not, you delusional lunatic." I gasp out.

He sways us once again, "I can't believe you haven't noticed," He murmurs to himself before smiling down at me, "You like it when I'm more domineering in bed." He nudges his nose and taps mine before sliding the tip horizontally against me, nuzzling me like a giant lion.

I bite my smile, "You get all predatory and masculine. What girl wouldn't like that?" I say, rolling my eyes.

He pulls my lip from my torturous teeth, tsk-ing, and tut-ing. His thumb draws an admiring and mesmerizing pattern against the plum skin, the pad of his finger not only placing its print on my skin, a hidden claim, but he looks as though he was painting his colour on my lips too, "Believe me when I say that predatory doesn't even begin to describe what I feel when we're one," He breathes out.

I shiver, smiling softly, "So damn hot when you say stuff like that." I whisper, almost mewling at the sight of him. He chuckles delicately, cupping my cheek in his hand and tightening his grip under me with the other. I hold him exponentially close. I breathe him in, the same fresh garden and forestry waterfall scent that crashes through me like waves on a pedestal, rolling with never-ending speed. I bathed in him with no restriction and no judgment.

He tilts my head gently and flutters his full lips against mine. My heart thunders and my arms weaken when he closes the distance completely and passionately molds his lips to mine. I was breathless before, but now I was in danger of fainting in his arms. He slides his fingers in my hair, pulling back just one breath away from my lips, "We haven't spoken about Kenji." He whispers.

I raise an eyebrow, "Is it strange that you're the one bringing him up right when we're getting into a pretty heated moment?" I giggle, surprised.

He groans, "You're right; I'm turning into you." He says, raising an eyebrow, acting surprised. His silver eyes grow mirthful as he stares down at me indecipherably.

I tap the back of his head, "Edmund." I merely say his name.

He sighs and takes a slow seat on the bed, legs leaning off the side with me snuggled on his lap and my legs still around his torso. I slide my hands down his deliciously chiseled chest. I look into his eyes while his hands slide up and down my waist, "Did you know he'd gone to the institute?" I whisper solemnly.

He shook his head, "I would have never guessed either. They were built on discipline and punishment of the worst kind, and yet he left without a scratch. I suspect someone in the Matrix gave Hideyoshi the suggestion of going to the institute because they're a family close to yours. The headmistress plucks information from you and uses pain to do it, punishment-to do it. She may have used it on him." He whispers the possibility.

My heart clamps shut.

"You mean...she could have asked him for information on my family?" I whisper, eyes penetrating the space between his pecs.

"It's a possibility." He says, his hands smooth a longing hold against my ribs.

I close my eyes, "The pain he must have gone through...and...Mira's miscarriage." I whisper in slow shock.

Edmund rubs my back, "I know this will sound overbearing and possessive of me, but lemon-I don't want him anywhere near you if that has the strong possibility of harming you in ways he may not be able to stop. I don't know what kind of drug he was hooked on, but mistaking his mother in their home...that's messed up." He murmurs delicately. He stares into my eyes, attempting to read my thoughts in my expressions.

I close my eyes against his shoulder, running my wedding finger down the plum and protruding muscle that taunt and lure me in so tremendously, "I know, Edmund. I'm just...still trying to process it." I breathe out.