He picks me up and carries me back to the bed, bridal style, and lays me on the pillows. This is it. He’s tired of waiting, and now that I’ve initiated something, he’ll feel the need to finish it.
“Why do you look so scared right now?”
I shake my head, throwing my chin higher. “I’m not scared.”
He slips off his shoes and climbs into the bed. When he crawls up between my knees and gestures at me to open my thighs, I do. I’m trembling as he opens his belt, and then his fly and settles between my hips.
“I should punish you, Angel.”
I remember our last punishment and get hot all over again. Even with him pressing me into the soft mattress.
“Your pleasure belongs to me and no one else. Not even you. If you need a release, you come to me, and I’ll give it to you.”
I swallow hard and meet his eyes. “You didn’t.” While my words are challenging, my tone is barely above a whisper.
He leans in and nibbles at my earlobe, my very, very sensitive earlobe. “And when I’ve been inside you, and my pleasure belongs to you and you alone, I’ll come to you with my needs. Right now, I’m trying to be patient, but smelling your sweet cunt on your fingers isn’t helping my control, Angel.”
His words are so filthy. I get so turned on every time he speaks to me this way. It makes me wonder if something is wrong with me.
I can feel the hard length of him pressed right over my panties. Exactly where I’m craving him. But it’s still terrifying. Will he rip my underwear off and tie me to the bed? Will he force himself inside me? Scenes and images crash into each other inside my head, drawing me from the edge of need and into a whirlwind of panic.
He gently takes my shirt off, and I don’t help, staying rigid underneath him. Then he studies my face as he shifts off me and strips my panties away too. He’s still wearing clothes, minus his open pants, and now I’m naked underneath him.
My heartbeat is pounding in my ears, and it’s not desire coursing through me. I swallow hard and meet his eyes, hoping he’s gentle when he does it. If he’s easy, soft, then I might be okay. This is the least I can do for him after everything he’s done for me. After all, I knew it was part of our agreement.
“Breathe for me.”
I blink up at him and realize he’s speaking to me.
“Breathe, Valentina, breathe.”
I do as I’m told, maybe out of sheer habit. Once the room stops spinning, he’s still over me, but he’s not doing anything but lying on top of me.
“Want to know a secret?”
I nod, anything to take my mind from the fear.
“I knew you were standing there watching me. I heard you.”
14
ADRIAN
Every time she stiffens at my touch, I try to be patient and understanding, but I hate the haunted look she gets in her eyes. I hate how that bastard hurt her and that he is still drawing breath on this planet.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper. It’s the only thing I can do to keep from yelling and raging. My rational mind knows this is a reaction to her trauma. And the fact she has let me in so far in the couple of months she’s been here is amazing. Patience, I remind myself for the hundredth time.
“Nothing,” she says, but even now, I see she’s close to tears.
“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”
A sob escapes, and she clamps a hand over her mouth. When she gains control of herself, she shakes her head hard. “No, it’s not that I think you’re going to hurt me. It’s just I can’t stop the what-ifs from spiraling in my mind. What if you force me down and have sex with me? What if you tie me to the bed? What if—?”
I cut her off with a gentle kiss. “What if I strip you naked and lay on top of you just so I can feel your soft, pretty skin? What if I just like to look at how you flush when you’re turned on? What if I want to give you pleasure and take none for myself? How often do the good possibilities squeeze in with the bad?”
“Never. Are you mad?” Her chin is tucked against her chest as if she expects me to strike out at her.
“Angel. I’m not mad. I’m disappointed that I can’t help you get past this faster. I’m disappointed I’m not inside you right now. But I would never hurt you. Not ever. I wish you could believe me and know it in your heart.”
She glances away, but not before I see the guilt stamped in her eyes and along the rigid line of her eyebrows. “I’m sorry.”