Completely and utterly innocent.
Those words taunt me.
I’ve made it my own personal mission to push all that shit away. There’s no way to make it in the world with your humanity still in place. You take what you need, what you want, and you don’t care who gets hurt in the process. You steal and you kill because that’s what gives you the power. You drive fear into the people around you to maintain your authority.
But this. Thisguilt, it’ll kill me well before I get a chance to harm her.
I’m standing so close I see the tones of red in her hair, the light dusting of freckles on her skin. I drag her towards me, dropping my head so my lips whisper against her skin.
Her chin is still tilted up defiantly inside my grip, her hands balled into fists at her sides.
“You can say it,” I tell her on a whisper, running my tongue up the shell of her ear, “your secret is safe with me. You want me and you hate yourself for it.”
She lashes out, swinging wide, on course for her fist to hit me square in the jaw. I catch it last minute, gripping her entire fist in my hand. I snatch my hand away from her face, pushing slightly so she stumbles away from me but don’t release the fist inside my palm.
Ainsley was right, she’s so small, this tiny fragile thing, easy to crush and yet she stands tall. She roars loudly, and holds herself as if she were the biggest person in the world. It’s not hard to see why most people would underestimate her and she uses that to her advantage.
I squeeze her hand, not hard enough to break anything but it’s going to hurt as her knuckles roll together and her fingers curl in too tightly. The edges of her eyes crease but other than that she gives no sign that she’s in pain.
“You’re such a brave girl,” I tell her.
“And you’re a pig.”
I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, scraping my teeth across it before releasing it again. I let her go abruptly and take a step back before I do something stupid like kiss her again.
“Strip now, little bird, shower,” I tell her, “I’m allowing you some semblance of normality before I take that away.”
“That’s cruel you know,” she tells me, seeming to give up the fight for me to leave the room.
She tugs her shirt over her head, revealing tight and toned abdominal muscles. A silver bar glints in her naval, and there’s another tattoo etched in her side over her ribs.
I realize my error immediately.
Her curves, all of them are on show to me right now, the dip in her waist, the flare of her hips. Her breasts are covered with a lace type of cropped top, resembling a bra but not quite as supportive. I don’t know what they call it, but it hides nothing. I see the shapes of her breasts, her nipples showing through the translucent material. Her chest moves rapidly, her breath coming fast.
She moves to her little shorts next and tugs them down her toned legs, stepping out of them until she’s left in just that tiny little bra and her panties.
Holy fuck.
I thought I’d felt pain before but staring at a woman like Wren and not being able to even touch her wasn’t just damn painful. It wastorture.
I tilt my chin towards the ceiling, staring down at the little bird in front of me, the fiery desire burning so hot and powerful in my veins it takes everything in me not to snap and rip the rest of those clothes from her body. I feel my nails biting into my palms, the sharp edges cutting through the skin to allow beads of blood to sink beneath the nailbeds.
Fuck.
I’ve witnessed nails being pulled from fingers, brains being splattered over the wall and yet I can’t see a grown woman naked without reacting like an adolescent boy!?
It truly fucks me in the ass to watch her and want her and not touch her.
She keeps her green stare on my face, never once turning her back on the monster in the room and switches the shower on, allowing a few seconds for the water to heat before her bare feet squeak against the tile on the bathroom floor and she climbs under the spray, still in her underwear.
The glass steams up immediately and it’s only then, when she has some protection from the fog on the glass that she removes the rest of her clothing, throwing the damp lace to the corner of the shower basin.
She stands under the spray, the water coming down powerfully and soaking her naked body. The glass has already steamed up, but I can see it all, the curve of her breasts, the way they push out as she arches her back and tips her face to the water.
Damn siren.
The water soaks her red hair, straightening out the curls and plastering them to her back. Her ass is curved and tight, perky, perfect for a hand to squeeze and caress and slap. She keeps her face tilted to the water, allowing it to wet her skin and roll over the surface, droplets rolling between her lips, clinging to her eyelashes.