Chapter 50. Scars of Desire

His warm tongue pulsates against my throat, the sensation sending shivers down my spine as another breathy moan escapes me. The confined space of the vehicle seems far from ideal for such an intimate encounter, but the urgency in Kian's touch and the hunger in his eyes make me wonder if we might succumb to the temptation right then and there, inside my car, if our driver, Fergus, doesn't increase his pace.

Kian's hand, the one not cupping the back of my throat, swiftly rips open my shirt, casting aside the discarded material without a second thought. Panic wells up within me, not wanting him to see the scars that mar my skin. I instinctively raise my hands to cover up, but he slaps them away, his gaze filled with an intense determination.

"Don't you dare," Kian's voice cuts through the air, laced with a mixture of frustration and raw desire. "You're a beautiful woman, Farrah, and I don't give a fuck about the scars or your burns."

"But I do," I cry out, the pain of