Xan doesn’t pull out of me, but he lays my feet on the mattress. His hot lips make their way up my belly, my breasts, and my neck before he removes his hand and claims my mouth in a rough kiss.
And then he’s moving inside me again, slow and measured, almost as if he’s savouring my body for the very first time.
Another type of pleasure grips me, one that’s filled with years of longing, of missed chances, and toxic habits.
Xander and I started with a tragedy, but we found company in it. We fought our pain with hugs and kisses and small touches.
Now, we’re fighting it in a different way. Now, we’ll taste it on each other’s tongue and see it in the scars left behind, whether physical or emotional.
And with pain comes release.
With pain comes freedom.
I’ve never felt freer than when I’m held down by him.
He’s slowly but surely taking away my pain, and I’ll also take his.
He might have been my knight, but I’ll be his now. I’ll bring back his armour and his sword.
So he can stop the war.
His hips jerk with the power of his thrusts. The moment he flicks my clit, I’m a goner again.
Completely. Thoroughly. With no way back.
“I’m going to miss this, Green,” he grunts. “I’m going to miss you when I’m gone.”
37
Xander
There are a few expressions I never want to witness again on Kim’s face.
The first is that pale, hollow one with her wrists slit.
The second is seeing her cry, because she does it with so much pain, it rips me open.
The third is the fake look and the smiles she’s forced in the past in order to appear normal.
Now, I find another one.
Fear.
As she lies in my arms while we’re facing each other, she stares at me with widened eyes and her chin trembles, although she’s clearly trying to control it.
It’s not working.
&n
bsp; She’s about to break down and there’s no way around it.
As I watch her, I wish there was an option where I could stop it. If it means I have to rip my heart out and lay it before her on a plate, then so fucking be it.
“W-what is that supposed to mean?”
I say nothing. I don’t know what to say.
She grips my bicep with her tiny hand. I can’t help staring at those scars – long, disfigured, and a witness of the time she had no other way to go. Even though the bracelet hides some of them, they’re still visible and angry against the world.