“Juliet…”
She caressed the side of my face, touching me of her own free will for another first for us tonight.
“Your father made you this way.”
“No, Troy did.”
“I don’t understand.”
I shook my head. This conversation was over. I shouldn’t have indulged her, to begin with.
“That’s enough questions for tonight.”
“But—”
The stern expression on my face was enough to render her speechless. I stood, taking her with me.
“Be a good girl and sit on the edge of the bed for me. Understood?”
She nodded, and I turned to walk into my suite bathroom to grab the cold cream and a bandage. When I returned, she was sitting in the spot I told her to. In less than a couple of steps, I was standing in front of her with her eyes staring up at me. Grabbing the hem of her gown, I pulled it off her body and threw it toward the garbage. It was ruined; the mere sight of it would make me angry, but not as angry as I was taking in the wound on her thigh.
“Motherfucker,” I rasped, getting down on the balls of my feet to clean her up and tend to her wounds.
She was now naked before me, the way she was meant to be.
Her hand reached the side of my face, and with the back of her fingers, she caressed my cheek. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes.
“Thank you, Master. For apologizing, for taking care of me. For… I don’t know… everything.”
Unable to respond, I simply nodded instead.
“You swear, you promise that you’ll never share me again? With anyone? Even if I’m bad and you’re punishing me, it will always be by your hands?”
I kissed her fingers, stating, “I swear to you on my life.”
“Okay,” she breathed out. “I forgive you.”
Three little words I didn’t know I desperately wanted her to express until I heard them fall off her lips and into the palm of my hand. After I made her better, I kissed along her freshly cleaned wounds like my mouth would heal her.
“Now, you’ll play for me, pet. I need the music. Show me heaven … again.”
She grabbed my face, and her lips were over mine before I realized she was kissing me for the first time.
Excruciatingly slow.
Soft.
Tender.
As if she was my angel.
My willpower to stay away from her was fading more as the days went on. I actually looked forward to coming into her room. Wanting to be with her like she was my whole world, to see her smile, to watch her lips move, to listen to her play the piano for me.
But most of all, to have her in my arms.
In my bed.
Every night.
Every morning.
You see, she wasn’t the only one falling.
I was hers.
Only hers.
And I’d been so since the first time I’d seen her and knew who she was. I was falling for her. Fuck, I had already fallen for her, which was a deadly combination for a man like me. Because I knew the ending wouldn’t be happy. It couldn’t be; not between her and me, not at all.
To be in love was the biggest sign of vulnerability. I might as well have put a fucking bullseye on my forehead and hers too. Death always came early when you had something to lose. And Troy? He knew that, lived for it.
I slid my tongue into her mouth, and she moaned in delight.
Feeling me.
Tasting me.
Being one with me.
I pecked her lips one last time before she rasped, “I’ll play for you, Donovan, but please … just be you tonight. That’s what I need. That’s who I want. No Master. No pet. Just Juliet and Donovan.”
Bringing my attention to what she was implying. I would disappoint her. I wasn’t her hero. I had no idea how to be. How to be the man who would become one I’d forgotten, one I’d destroyed long ago. It didn’t matter. My dark heart wanted to try, even though my mind knew it was useless.
Standing up, I held my hand out for her to take. She did, and within moments she was sitting on the piano bench I’d purchased and dedicated to my mother. It wasn’t the one she played. That Baby Grand was in Juliet’s room. This was a replica of it.
Her fingers began moving, playing the song she was earlier in the evening. The one Troy had told her to play in front of all of my guests, fully aware of what it meant to me.
What it did to me.
The pain and pleasure.
The sorrow and happiness.
The heaven and hell.
The only one able to soothe me. I couldn’t even think or focus. I just wanted to listen to the music, to the notes as they swept into the universe around me, becoming my air, my Eden, my soul. In one moment, she’d both broken me and then saved me again. Little by little, she was healing the broken man who lived inside of me—the one who wanted every last inch of her.