AKIRA'S POV
When Ares said I had clothes, I expected a few clothes. Maybe jeans and some tops from one of his old whores.
But as I dried myself with the huge white towels I found in his bathroom, I walked into his room to find clothes sprawled all over his bed. Female clothes. They included designer gowns, tops, jeans, different sets of lingerie, stockings, garter belts and so much more. And they were all my sizes.
My gaze fleeted to the boxes on the floor beside his bed. My brows jumped when I opened one to reveal a pair of heels. Louis Vuitton.
I swallowed. I wasn't going to open the rest of the boxes. I knew my poor heart wouldn't be able to take their contents.
I sighed, suddenly wishing Ama was here. Or Eve. They were both fashion freaks/gurus. They would flip at the number of clothes in front of me.
A midnight black dress called out to me. It was thin-strapped and low-backed, with a tulle skirt and a deep v-neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage. It didn't require a bra so I skipped one while putting on the gown.
I was struggling to get the zip when Ares opened the door, the steam from his shower following him. There was no mirror in his room and I had a feeling that had something to do with the fact that he hated seeing his face.
As if on thought, my eyes land on the scar on his face. It was pink, pale, almost invisible. It was deep and angry, slashing from one side of his face to the other. It was one of his many features that sent a tingling sensation down my spine.
His scars didn't scare me. They drew me in. They were captivating. Always making me wonder how he got them. Ares was a powerful Lycan. Not just a powerful one, he was an ancient Lycan. Some sort of tribal Lycan as Madam Yelena had put it.
Even gods such as the Moon goddess, goddess of war, god of darkness, and so on, were scared of the man. So I wondered how the scar came about. The man was an unstoppable force on the battlefield. And he never went out to wars. Because of his bloodlust. And of course, the inhumane ways he killed.
So what came about the scar? Who had dared to scar him?
I knew with the way he wore the scar, it clearly meant something. It was the twenty-first century, facial surgeries were rampant. But he chose not to cover it up. And that meant whoever did it– and whatever happened was a deep dark secret shoved deeper in his closet.
And he was wearing the scar like a true champ.
I gave him a light smile as his dark eyes do a quick once over on me. "How did you get all of my sizes right?"
He only shrugged. His hands were on the knot of the towel around his trimmed hips. "You're my mate. I know everything about you."
My eye-lid lowered and my eyes– which had not left the towel since he stepped out of the bathroom– finally met his and I hummed in response.
He smirked. "I didn't know much about your perverted mind. But I do now."
I huffed and my cheeks flushed with colour, embarrassed that I was caught staring. "Then, that says a lot about what you think you know about me."
I didn't know where this bravado is coming from.
I gave him a shaky smile when he ran his eyes over me again as I began to walk towards him. Instead of pausing in front of him as expected, with steady eye contact I walked passed him and into the ensuite bathroom.
I struggled to keep my triumphant smile in check when I heard his breath hitch as I brushed my bare shoulders against his.
"I need help with my zip," I said once I approached the huge vanity mirror in the bathroom.
I looked at the girl in the mirror. Her cheeks were a flaming red, her full lips were red and swollen and they was a certain glow in her dull green eyes. I was beginning to feel like the girl I once was. The little human living a closeted life. Protected from the darkness lurking in the shadows.
I didn't hear Ares's response and when I looked back in the mirror I wasn't shocked to find him standing behind me.
But that didn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips. "I didn't hear you come in."
I locked my eyes with him in the mirror. Our irises were completely opposite from each other. Except, for the fact that they were both dull. Steely grey eyes met my green ones as his hands slowly crept down my back.
They were rough, indicating that he was a man who did a lot with his hands. He trailed his fingers down my back slowly, and I held my breath until the moment I heard the zipper being tugged upwards.
"All done." He spoke gruffly. I could feel his body heat. It was seeping deep into my cores and he wasn't even pressed against me.
He ran his knuckles over my back and I shivered. "You look really beautiful."
I cleared my throat and gave him another shaky smile. "Thank you."
He was walking away before I knew it. Without sparing another glance and response.
Weird.
Deciding to test the waters I opened the drawers in search of makeup. And I found none. Just cleansers, face masks and other things I didn't even know. I finally smiled when I saw a tube of lipgloss. My smile broadened when I saw the flavour it was. Strawberry. One of my favourites.
I styled my red hair into a tighter ponytail and after fluffing my bangs I decided that I was ready.
"Hey," I spoke once I entered the room, walking straight to the boxes of shoes on the floor.
"I'm ready –" My breath hitched at the sight in front of me.
I've seen Ares countless times. But nothing beats seeing him dress up in front of me. He was in the middle of zipping up his fly when I spoke. But his hands didn't still. They moved to do the buckle on his belt.
This time I was the one doing the once over. I took my time as I ran my eyes over him. He was putting on a white dress shirt which stretched over his broad chest and black dress pants that hugged his muscular thighs.
"You look," I breathed out. "Really ravishing."
And he did. All I could think of any time I was around Ares was sex. I knew the mate bond had something to do with it. All I wanted was to jump his bones, strip him off his clothes and have my dirty way with him.
A shiver broke out at the thought.
"We need to go. This evening is going to be about you and how I'm going to win you over."
"Not about us fucking." I completed it crudely.
He only looked at me and gestured to the boxes of shoes. "Pick one."
I picked a black sandal. With straps that wrapped around my calves. It was simple, cute and me.
"You need a coat," Ares commented, his gaze resting on my bare shoulders as he opened another bag to reveal a female coat. "It gets colder during the evening."
I stood still as he gently put the coat on for me. And as he straightened the lapels of the coat, I realised that Ares liked to do things for me. Almost like a caregiver.
"Are you ready?"
I gave him a shaky grin. "As ready as I'll ever be."