“Bedroom?” I ask, my voice gravelly.
Following her across the hall to her small room, it’s bare. Disgustingly so for a twenty-three-year-old woman. A woman who should be looking forward in life instead of staying in the past.
“Strip,” I tell her for the what feels like the dozenth time. I slowly begin removing my own pants as she stands there, alarm written across her features. “There’s more, isn’t there?” I ask, knowing full well she’s afraid of my anger.
“Yes.” The distress expressed in that one small word makes me step forward. Unhooking her bra, I gently slide it down her arms.
Once off, I skim my own hands up her stomach, past the scars she thinks will define how I feel, over her ribs, cupping her breasts. I massage them smoothly, pulling and twisting her nipples. “I’ll help you,” I coo into her ear.
Leaning down, I kiss each nipple lightly, lingering for just a moment to take in her fresh-bodied scent. She’s pure, lightness, hearth and home all rolled into one. Kneeling before her like the queen she is, I unbutton her slacks, making sure to grip her panties in my fingers at the same time as I slowly glide them down her legs. I’m unprepared for the carnage I see.
A small trail of dried blood runs down the inside of her thigh from a fresh, deep cut, and I fight back the rage I feel rolling through me. There is at least a dozen more just like it on each upper part of her leg, and I can’t help but mourn the loss of her once perfect skin.
Then a thought occurs to me, and I hope by voicing it, she’ll lose some of the embarrassment I can feel emitting from her. “You know,” I begin quietly, sliding her pants the rest of the way off. “Each scar tells its own story.” I lay light kisses on a different wound as I speak. “Each one shows your passion.” Kiss “Your life.” Kiss “Your weakness.” Her breath catches and her body vibrates with emotion. “Your strength.”
Our eyes clash as a lone tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. “This,” I run my fingers across one thigh, “is a shock, cupcake. Not something I expected or wanted for you.”
“I didn’t either,” she responds defeatedly.
I nod, knowing full-well she had to have been in a pretty dark place to even contemplate it.
“I won’t lie to you and say it’s going to be okay because it may not. You have so much more hidden inside of you than even I expected. It’s going to take a lot of work from both of us.”
“I know.” She speaks so quietly, I nearly don’t hear her.
Standing so she’s forced to look up at me, I let all the anger I’m feeling show. “I won’t allow you to hurt yourself again. Don’t think this will go unpunished either.”
A full body shiver runs through her frame. Her nipples tighten, her thighs rub together, and the most wonderful scent in the world emanates from her. I can smell her musky desire.
“On the bed,” I command her softly, my voice heavy with desire.
Crawling up the double-sized mattress, I wonder if it’ll fit both of us or hold up to what I plan to do to her.
“Face down, ass up.” My voice brooks no room for argument.
Removing the rest of my clothes, I kneel behind her. The contrast of her pale ass to my red, angry cock is stunning in its clarity. My hands roam her thighs and ass, gently massaging her muscles, relaxing her.
“Are you ready for me, Ash?” I groan as my fingers meet her heated core. She’s soaking wet with her desire.
“Yes,” she moans, pushing against my hand for more.
“Yes what, cupcake?” I rumble.
Her breath stutters as I probe her opening, two fingers slipping through her folds to embed themselves in her depths.
“Yes, daddy.” I can practically feel her purr her with pleasure as my thumb strokes across her clit just grazing the hard button.
“That’s right, baby.” My body drapes over hers as my cock begins the slow slide into her body. She’s so tight I need to force my in. Her walls simultaneously sucking me in while trying to push me out.
“Oh God, you’re huge,” she pants.
Placing my hands on either shoulder, my grip is so tight that she’s forced to lay her chest flat as I plunge the rest of the way inside her silky heat. Her scream of mixed pleasure and pain only egg me on. I’m eager to see how far I can push her. How much she’ll take before crying uncle.
“Fuck, this pussy is golden. So hot, so tight. I could die a happy man right now.” My eyes close in bliss. Inside her, I’m home.
“You don’t fit,” she grinds out, her body tense. “You’re too big. I’ve never–.” My hand shoots to her neck, pulling up, so she’s flush with my chest. “Don’t,” I snarl in her ear, one hand slipping down to pinch her clit painfully, while the other moves to the front of her throat, tightening. “Ever think of another fucking man again.”
My hold is so tight she can barely make out the words. “I was thinking of a woman.” I pause, unsure of how I feel about her with another woman. Of her with anyone but me.