CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

––––––––

GEMMA ASHFORD WAS THE only person to ever successfully break me.

I’d had so many others try. I’d endured hundreds of punishments and thousands of games, yet I’d always been able to safeguard the inner parts of me. I’d sheltered those pieces for my family. I’d held them tight all while I’d been beaten and used because I knew if I gave up, who would look after them? Who would find a way to kill our masters? Who would sacrifice their own happiness so that one day, those he loved could find theirs?

But Gemma.

Christ, Gem.

She was the first to give me something out of the goodness of her heart. No matter how much it cost her. No matter how much she hated me for what I’d done. She’d read my suffering, understood the jagged complexities of my mind, and she’d been so angelically good.

She’d glowed in my arms. She’d had wings of gold and a halo of kindness all as she took my corrupted, unclean soul inside hers.

And how had I repaid her?

By coating her in the same fucking dirt I’d crawled out of.

Seeing my cum trickle down her leg? Seeing the bruises I’d given her while doing something unforgivable? Fuck me, it represented every disgusting thing I’d ever done. All the cum that’d covered me, all the guests who’d claimed me, all the games I’d been forced to play.

She hadn’t deserved to be included in that mess.

She didn’t deserve to be trapped with a man who couldn’t control his own thoughts or keep her safe from the very same urges he’d ignored for eleven years.

She wasn’t safe here.

She wasn’t fucking safe because seeing my release roll down her leg had made me viciously hard again. It wasn’t enough to take her once. I wanted her again and again and again. I wanted her beneath me, on me, in me. I wanted to die with her on my tongue and my body pounding into hers.

I was sick.

I was exhausted.

Living with her had become impossible.

I found it harder and harder just to survive. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t dangerous and cruel. I couldn’t wipe away the blood still coating my hands, or the nightmares just waiting to manipulate me.

I’d raped her because I’d stupidly fallen asleep. Fallen asleep because of a concussion that scrambled my thoughts and an exhaustion borne from her presence.

I never wanted to sleep again.

What if I woke to her dead beneath me?

What if I never woke at all, and I kept her trapped here forever, like me. Hurting her, using her, never able to open my eyes and see just how wonderful she was. How giving, generous, and kind.

I groaned and rested my sweaty forehead on my arms.

I didn’t think I could do this anymore.

I couldn’t keep living with someone who was nice. Who forced me to confront all my dark madness.

And the worst part?

The worst part was not knowing how she’d react. I’d hurt her. Yet instead of hurting me back, she’d given me something that no one else ever had.

She’d given me understanding, calmness. Granted access to her body and gifted me a split second of happiness. She did something no one else would ever have done, and I didn’t know how to handle that.

How was I supposed to keep my walls up, to protect myself from a past that had the power to suffocate me, all while Gemma Ashford broke me into pieces?

For hours, I sat against the wall, sinking into my misery. My stomach snarled with hunger, and my mind...well, that flickered with its familiar concussion and unreliable memory.

My eyes dropped to the chain binding her to me; the very same chain that’d clinked softly as she’d left the room on my request. I would never tell her, but my shitty memory had forgotten where I’d put the key. It wasn’t a good thing for someone like me to know she was close by, especially in my current state.

Just like the key was missing, tiny incidents that made up my life were gone. The blankness came on suddenly with no warning, erasing a few seconds, deleting my attempts at being better.

It was as if I fought an unwinnable battle.

I wanted to be good, but how could I when every part of me was bad?

I wanted to deserve her, but how could I when I’d always be a slave?

God, I was tired.

I felt wrung out and wrong, and something gnawed at me that couldn’t be ignored.

For all my shame of what I’d done to Gemma, she’d never once looked at me as if she cursed me. She’d shown incredible strength and sweetness.

She was so different, so pure, so right.

She was dirty because of me.

She was hurt because of what I’d done.

And I couldn’t sit there another goddamn moment without doing something to fix what I’d soiled.

Hauling myself from the floor, I stumbled a little as I bent for my jeans and stepped into them. My head rushed as I zipped them into place and rearranged the chain under my T-shirt.

Gritting my teeth against my constant headache, I stalked from the library.

I needed to find her.

To apologize.

To wash her clean from my filth.

To be honest and tell her that no one had ever treated me the way she did, and it messed with my defective mind.

I was...falling.

Falling in ways that fucking terrified me.

You sent her away after she gave you a gift.

I slammed to a stop in the foyer.

I winced as my head pounded.

I couldn’t go to her empty-handed.

She deserved the world.

She deserved her freedom.

Both of those things I couldn’t give.

The only thing I could afford to offer was her safety. Safety that came with a time limit and only applied while my eyes were open and nightmares stayed far away.

For as long as I could stay awake tonight, I was hers humbly and completely.

Changing direction, I headed toward the kitchen and the door toward the garden. The chain around my waist was long enough to step outside into the moonlight despite catching on furniture and tracking through the house. I walked toward the ancient claw-foot iron bathtub that I’d painstakingly dragged from one of the downstairs bathrooms a few years ago.

I’d remodeled that bathroom from the lighting to the fixtures. And by remodeled, I meant smashed to smithereens and left to rot.

In truth, I’d had a night of utter desolation and couldn’t stomach the sameness, the stagnantly empty silence any longer. I’d taken an ax to the tiles and a hammer to the sink and only stopped myself from destroying the bath because of a stupid idea from a book I’d read that week.

The characters in the book had found satisfaction by soaking in hot water beneath the stars. They’d laughed and unwound, fucked and fell in love.

And I’d been beyond myself with jealousy.

It’d taken a full day to drag the heavy bathtub through Fables, into the garden, and find a way to dig a hearth and stack wood beneath its belly.

That first night, when I’d laid in hot water and pruned my skin for hours, was the first night I’d slept without a nightmare. No sleepwalking. No panic attacks. Just blissful, blank rest.

After that, an outdoor soak had become a drug to me, especially in winter when snow fell, and I ambled from room to room with my breath creating clouds before me. Stoking a fire and slipping into a hot bath was sometimes the only true warmth I found all winter.

It was my favorite thing to do at night—the only way I could relax in this valley after darkness had fallen.

And I wanted to share it with her.

I wanted to give her a piece of myself, just as she’d given me something of her.

I need her to know she’s safe, even after what I did.

Marching toward last year’s depleted firewood pile, I stacked kindling and sticks, and prepared to apologize to the girl who’d crippled me.

* * * * *

I found her in the conservatory.

Curled up beneath silver blankets that she’d raided from a guest room. Why she insisted on sleeping in a glass box was beyond me. Sure, it was fine at the moment with the nights still warm and days still sunny but come winter, she’d freeze.

Winter...

My heart suddenly stopped.

Unlike all the other times I’d thought about the change of seasons and how much preparation I still had to do, I was struck with the absolute glorious knowledge that I wouldn’t be alone.

She’ll be here.

The reality of that sucker punched me. I tripped to the side as my eyes stayed locked on Gemma in her nest of bedding. It hadn’t hit me before. I hadn’t stopped to truly understand that I wouldn’t have to hibernate in an empty house with nothing and no one.

Thanks to her, I’d have company on those eternally boring days. I’d have someone to talk to, someone to touch and kiss and—

You should let her go.

I froze as moonlight danced behind clouds and shone through the glass roof, casting everything in quicksilver.

After what she’d done for me tonight—after what I’d done—the only way to truly show her how much she meant to me was to let her go. To find the key and unlock the chain and willingly walk her to the cliff to say goodbye.

Shit.

My heart spasmed painfully. I raised a hand and massaged my chest, gasping at the agony of even contemplating watching her climb out of my valley.

It’s the right thing to do.

The only thing.

The only way to keep her safe.

Gritting my teeth, I did my best to stay quiet as Gemma slept. She’d been so selfless in her kindness tonight. She’d given me more than just her body...she’d given me something intangible, something far, far too fragile and priceless not to deserve the biggest reward in return.

Therefore, I should have the same strength to free her, right? So what did that say about me that I couldn’t?

That I physically wouldn’t be able to survive if she left. Dramatic? Probably. The truth? Absolutely.

She can’t leave.

Even knowing what I did of my unraveling mind and tendencies of harming her. Her imprisonment was for life, purely because my reasoning for trapping her kept evolving: from physical needs and believing I could take from her whenever I damn well wanted to now acknowledging that I’d started to feel. Started to fall. Started to slip and slide, dive and drown each and every moment I was with her.

Rubbing my throbbing heart, I glared at the chain binding us as it glittered in the moonlight. Even if I physically could release her, I’d lost the key.

It was a poor excuse, but my damaged mind latched onto it with claws.

I couldn’t free her because I had no way of doing so. Therefore, keeping her was understandable, logical...necessary.

Accepting my sins, I ducked beside her and reached for her shoulder. My shadow fell over her. A sinister shape looming over an innocent, beautiful girl.

I shivered in fear. Fear of myself. Fear of my mind, my intentions, my past.

I hesitated, hovering my fingers over her delicate body.

I should let her rest. I should leave.

I should stay the hell away so I don’t—

“Kas?” Her eyes flew wide, locking onto my hand inches away from touching her.

I snatched it back, rocking on the balls of my feet as a crush of imbalance made me wobble.

Sitting upright, the silver blankets fell from her body, revealing she’d slept in the same shirt she’d worn all day. The same one she’d unbuttoned in the river when I’d dragged her in behind me. The same one she’d pilfered and wore so elegantly as she’d brandished a knife in my face—was it just this morning?—before dropping it by my feet in the conservatory.

My memory flickered, delivering a partial recollection.

“The moment I kiss you back, Kassen Sands, you’ll be at my mercy, not the other way around. Take me against my will, and I won’t just take your body in return. I will take your heart. I will unearth all the love that you’ve suppressed so, so deep inside you, and I will make you curse the very day you decided to trap me. Take me against my will, and I will show you what heartbreak can do to a man like you.”

I gasped, swooping to my feet with a grunt.

Fuck, was that what’d happened?

I’d taken her against her will. I’d hurt her—made her fight with fear and tears. Yet she’d somehow had the strength to touch me afterward. To forgive me. She’d ridden me as if she felt something for me. She’d let me come inside her. She’d kissed my cheek and sent lightning bolts through my blood.

That lightning had struck my heart.

It was still smoking, still charred, and entirely lost because of what she’d made me feel.

But...how true was it?

Was this her plan all along?

Was this the path she’d warned me about? That she’d not slept with me out of kindness but manipulation? That she fully intended to rip out the very same heart she’d woken up inside me and prove, once and for all, that monsters did bleed. That they could cry. That they could die from wretched heartbreak.

No.

I tripped backward.

She stood, her bare legs flashing with moonlight as she came toward me. Her hands came up as if to catch me. Her eyes glowed with the same sympathy and softness that’d completely annihilated me in the library. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

I shook my head, too fast, too fierce, sending plants and moonlight swirling. “I-I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine,” I growled, gagging on more than just the thought of her leaving but the thought of her still hating me. Worse than hating me—being such a mastermind and flawless actress that she could hide her true feelings and be gentle.

To give me the one thing I’d never had. The one thing I was fucking desperate for. The one thing I would happily die for.

Could she do that?

Could she be worse than all the guests combined? Could she carry off a performance of kindness and affection, coaxing me under her spell, all while driving the very same knife she’d thrown at me feet into my back?

Christ, I—

That would make her crueler than Storymaker, Levin, Willby...it would make her more diabolical than all of them put together because not one of them had been able to mask their true desires, their real natures.

But Gemma?

She could be my greatest enemy, all while she made me fall in love with her.

Ah, fuck.

She was right.

I was going to be sick.

I spun and stumbled for the wall. Slamming both hands on the glass, I sucked in a tainted breath, wincing against the pain in my broken arm. Air was tainted because she was there. Her scent. Her beauty. Her very fucking presence.

And then, her hand rubbed softly between my shoulder blades, and her voice lowered to a coo that I’d never, not once, been privileged to hear. “It’s okay. If you’re still upset about what you did...don’t. It’s in the past.” She paused before murmuring, “It’s two a.m., Kas. That was yesterday. Today is fresh. We can start anew.”

I groaned from the sheer pain of her comfort. Did she know her empathy was the worst weapon against me? Did she understand my bones crumbled to dust and my blood turned to mud and I couldn’t fucking think straight all because of her benevolence?

But it could be faked.

She could be playing you for a fool—

I snapped upright.

My nausea vanished.

So what?

So what if she did? So what if I stumbled right into her game?

At least, I could find some smidgen of happiness along the way. I could enjoy a few soft touches, a couple of calm moments from the shitstorm of my mind.

I suddenly didn’t care.

So what if it was all a sham? So what if this was her delivering the worst agony of my life? By the time she twisted the knife in so deep I finally figured out her intention, it would be too late.

It was already too late.

Turning slowly, I caught her wrist as her hand fell away from my back. Not looking up, I focused on her elegant fingers as I twined them with mine. I did something as innocent as hold her hand, yet it gave me a deeper satisfaction than driving hard inside her.

She gasped as I brought her knuckles to my lips and kissed the delicate skin covering them. She shivered as I grazed my mouth over each, worshiping, memorizing, angling her hand until her fingers went taut.

I slowly inserted her middle one into my mouth.

“Oh,” she breathed.

She surprised both of us by almost collapsing to her knees.

I lashed out with my broken arm, catching her before she tumbled. My teeth caught on her fingernail before sucking it back onto my tongue. I flinched against the throbbing in my injured arm.

She cried out as I clutched her close, trembling as her perfect body pressed against mine. But that wasn’t right. She wasn’t perfect. She was skinnier than when she’d first arrived.

Because of me.

Because I’d not given her the nutrition she needed—both physical and emotional. I’d failed her all while she’d been kind enough to forgive me.

If this was the woman who would eventually make me pay for all my sins, I would gladly bow at her feet. I would idolize her until the day she destroyed me.

Running my tongue around her finger, I dared to look into her eyes. I braced myself to see conniving manipulation, to witness the truth that she wasn’t overcome by my mouth but merely feigning desire.

But her eyes glossed with heat. They positively burned with need. Desire like that couldn’t be counterfeit...surely. Her little pants and pebbled nipples couldn’t be fabricated if she hated me as much as I feared.

I sucked harder, tasting her skin, cleaning her of all my wrongdoings. Her eyes snapped closed as she swayed into me. Her skin flushed with fire, burning me up, making me hard, causing whispers of lust to curl through my mind.

I could have her again.

I didn’t think she’d deny me this time.

It could be mutual.

It could be good.

It could be explosive and intoxicating and yet another arrow through my heart.

“Kas...” she moaned as I slowly licked my way to the tip of her finger and blew on the wetness left behind.

And I knew what I could give her to equal what she’d given me.

She’d given me a release.

She didn’t have the same affliction that I did. I could leave her be, and she could satisfy herself. But...I also had the skills in which to break her apart for a change. I’d been well trained. Well disciplined.

I could apologize in so many sexual ways.

But first, I needed her clean. I needed to cleanse her of the dirt I’d left on her and the cum I’d spilled inside. That orgasm had been full of shame and heavy guilt. I wanted her free of it. Just like I wanted to be free of everything that’d made me into the bastard who’d raped her.

Her eyes flickered open as I pressed a final kiss to the tip of her finger and let her hand drop to her side.

“Thank you,” I whispered. I didn’t deserve to touch her. I was beneath her in so many awful ways, but I didn’t have the power to stay away. If she gave me permission to apologize tonight, then I would do whatever she commanded.

She blinked, still hazy with want.

I found pride in that. Pride that I’d made her drunk just by sucking on her finger. Proud that, regardless of her threat that I was doomed the moment I entered her body, I’d somehow made her feel a tenth of the lust I suffered.

And also proud that she kept using my name, regardless of my orders for her not to. She’d ignored me. She’d been brave enough to ignore me. And in that, she fully deserved to use it.

“I know you aren’t looking for my permission—especially after what I did—but...I want you to know, I—” I cleared my throat, finding it harder than expected to say such simple things. But that was because they weren’t simple. This wasn’t just me allowing her to use my name. A slave name that labeled me as a belonging, a piece of trash, a toy to be used and discarded, but I was effectively giving myself over to her.

I was giving her the right to own me. To summon me. To use me however she liked.

“I’d be honored if you use my name, even if it isn’t my real one. After what you did for me tonight...” I coughed again, unable to get rid of the lump in my throat. “For you to welcome me inside you after I—”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to—”

“No, we do.” I slashed the air with my broken arm. “I don’t care what drove you to do it. I don’t care if you hate me, and it was a ruse to make me fall. I—”

“What?” she scowled. “A ruse? There was no ruse. What are you saying—”

“I’m saying you’re worth more to me than anything, and I—” I frowned. “If I’m honest, I hate that name, but I can’t remember any other. I hate what I am. I hate what I’ve done to you, not just tonight but all the other nights combined. I’ve tried to forget. I’ve tried to be better. I want to be better...for you.”

She inhaled sharply.

Clearing my throat and the sudden squeezing in my chest, I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Come. There’s something I want to show you.”

She looked down at where my fingers circled her arm. Could she feel the slight zing between us? The constant flow of energy humming from her body into mine? Regardless of my limited knowledge of relationships outside of Fables, I’d never felt the steady crackle of electricity for anyone before. Not even my family.

She had to know she was special. Had to guess that she was the one person in the world who could either save me or kill me. I didn’t have a say in the matter. I didn’t want a say. I just wanted to be with her, to keep her, to love her.

Her body stayed tense, but her eyes flickered to mine, glowing gold in the dark. She licked her lips as the heat between us grew, buzzing in our blood. “Show me what?”

Her stare reached inside my soul and scrambled me up until I couldn’t breathe. I was raw tonight. Every wall I’d constructed had crumbled, leaving me scarily open to her in every way.

“Kas...” She cocked her head. “You sure you’re okay?”

I blinked and tried to gather up my scattered pieces. “Are you okay? After...how I treated you?”

Her eyes flared as if wary of my concern. I supposed she had every right to be. I hadn’t exactly proven I cared about her welfare before.

Slowly, she nodded. “I will be.”

“Did...did I hurt you?”

She grimaced. “Like I said in the library...you didn’t hurt me. Not in the physical sense.”

I flinched, wanting to fall to my knees. That was worse. I might not have hurt her body, but I’d hurt her far, far deeper. I’d taken the same wounds that constantly bled inside me and given them to her. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

I shook my head, sadness heavy on my shoulders. “No, I don’t think you do. Not yet.” Giving her a tug, I guided her from the conservatory, through the huge foyer, and down the staff corridor to the kitchen.

She followed silently, ignoring the chain clinking between us, growing louder as we left carpet for tiles before slipping out the back door and slithering through the earth as I guided her toward the bath tucked behind some trellis I’d made to block it from the wind.

Fire licked at the sticks I’d stacked beneath it, embers glowed brightly, heating the water to a perfect temperature but not boiling it.

Gemma slowed as I let her go, ducking to grab the iron poker that’d I’d stolen from a fireplace inside. I scattered the fire, ensuring the heat was dispersed so the bath would stay warm for the next few hours.

“What is this?” she asked softly.

“It’s my attempt at showing just how fucking sorry I am.”

Her head cocked to the side. “You poured me a bath?” She glanced at the hose tossed to the side and the cheery fire crackling beneath. “An outdoor bath?”

I shook my head, gritting my teeth against the constant imbalance from my concussion. “It’s more than that.”

She inched closer. “More?”

“Let me show you.” I went toward her, fully intending to unbutton her shirt and hold her steady as she climbed in. However, she flinched backward. Her hands flying to the buttons, clutching the fabric as if expecting me to take her against her will again.

And fuck me, that drove a dagger right through my ribs, straight through my heart, and clean through my spine.

I backed up immediately, hands in the air in surrender. “I won’t touch you. Not if you don’t wish it.”

She licked her lips, her gaze flicking from me and back to the bath. “I-I don’t understand.”

I sighed and looked at the earth. I’d already messed this up just by being me.

Giving me yet another mind-altering shrug, she murmured, “Tell me what you want. You have to talk me through this. I’m a little...frayed.”

Of course, she was frayed.

I’d forced her.

I’d been forcing her to survive every single moment since she’d found me.

Staying where I was, giving her the element of choice instead of making her feel trapped, I murmured just as quietly, “I want to give you pleasure.” Such a simple sentence, but just like my name, it was a vow not given lightly.

She shook her head slightly. “You don’t need—”

“I do.” I swallowed hard. “I can’t stand the thought that you’re still dirty...because of me. That I stole whatever innocence you had left. That I left you marked with part of me. That you’re...unclean. Like me.”

She flinched. “You’re not unclean...Kas.” She smiled sadly at the use of my name. “And I told you, what happened between us might have started off against my will, but the ending was my choice. My decision.” She came toward me, letting her hands drop from clutching her shirt. “I’m happy that you found peace. That you—”

“And I’m angry that you haven’t.” I couldn’t help myself. Reaching up, I captured a strand of her golden hair, running the silkiness through my fingers. “I’m angry that I haven’t returned the favor.”

She sucked in a breath. “Is that what this is about? You think you owe me pleasure because you came and I didn’t?”

I winced. “No.”

“Tell the truth.”

“That is the truth.”

Her eyes narrowed, studying me. “I don’t think it is. You’ve been trained to—”

“That training is gone.”

She gave me another sad smile. “Are you so sure?”

“I’m sure that I want to make amends for what I’ve done.”

“There’s nothing to make amends—”

“Please,” I snarled, my hand dropping from her hair and balling by my side. “All I’m asking is...” I looked at the ground, swallowing a harsh laugh. I hadn’t thought this out. I hadn’t rehearsed this, but now that certain words filled my mouth, I heard how ridiculous they’d sound. How stupidly cliché and preposterous.

“What?” she whispered. “What are you asking for?”

It was my turn to shrug, temper tangling with all my flaws. “You to trust me. Just like you said I could trust you.”

Her eyes widened, the truth written all over her face. “You said I shouldn’t trust you.”

“And you shouldn’t.”

“Then why ask—?”

“Just for tonight. Trust me to do the right thing...just for tonight.”

She frowned, no doubt going over what else I’d said in the library. How I’d begged her to kill me before I could make another mistake. How I’d practically beaten it into her that she could never trust a man who couldn’t control his own mind. A man she’d predicted would one day snap and hurt her far worse than anything he’d done before. There was no way she should trust me.

Of course, she couldn’t.

What a moronic thing to ask.

I laughed under my breath. “Forget it. I only meant...” I sighed and looked at the stars. “I want you to feel safe. You’re safe, Gemma...I-I give you my word that I won’t hurt you. Not tonight.”

She nodded once, hearing what I had. Not tonight. She was safe...just for tonight. I couldn’t guarantee all the other days and all the other nights, but for the next few hours before dawn broke, while my mind was stable and completely here, with her, she wouldn’t be molested, bruised, or tormented.

I rolled my eyes, cursing my constant headache. What sort of offer was that? What did that make me when I couldn’t extend that promise because I had no control when sleep claimed me?

Silence thickened between us, and as we stood next to flames with their soft crackle in our ears and starlight above us, I felt as if she saw past all the nightmares I couldn’t face and all the memories I locked up deep inside. She shoved past any connection I might’ve had with my Fable family, elbowed past a childhood I couldn’t remember, and dug deep, deep inside me until she found the core of who I was.

The nucleus that’d given up hope and happiness a long time ago.

She saw me. The eternal me. She didn’t see a man imprisoned with loneliness, not a boy with severe trauma, not even the man I could become thanks to her. She saw past all of that, and I came alive and died beneath her study.

She made my heart revoke me, forsake me, and bow to its new owner.

The air crackled with more than just flame-chewed firewood. It positively blazed with whatever magic had sprung between us, and I couldn’t stand there any longer as separate people.

I had to touch her.

To thank her.

To hide just how much she’d undone me.

Stepping into her, I cupped her cheeks with both palms. “You’re safe.”

She froze with a quick inhale.

Our eyes locked.

Our pulse raced.

“I promise.” I dropped my head and captured her mouth with mine.

She gasped as I kissed her softly.

She trembled in my hands as I groaned at her taste.

I kissed her softer still, turning my head, running my thumbs over her cheekbones, licking at the seam of her lips. “Let me make this right.”

For an awful moment, she kept her mouth pursed, denying me.

“Please...” I kissed her sweetly, feathering affection that made my entire body buckle for more, reining myself in from being cruel. “I need to do this. I need to show you how much you mean to me.”

She moaned and opened for me.

The dark parts of me rejoiced. I deepened the kiss, swift and savage.

Her spine arched as I clutched her close. She didn’t push me away, but she didn’t melt into me either. Her lack of participation and the fact that she hadn’t actively refused me made me worry she’d only agreed out of fear. That even now, even after what’d happened between us, she still expected me to lose myself and leave her at the mercy of my nightmares.

“You’re safe,” I breathed, pulling away, forcing myself to stop.

She blinked, belief and disbelief equal in her stare.

“I’m at your command, Gem.” It took all my willpower to stay slow and gentle. “You only have to tell me, and I’ll stop.” I bowed my head and kissed her again, light and tantalizing. “This time is different. I feel different. I’m different because of you. Thanks to you.” I sucked on her bottom lip. “I want to show you what it could be like between us when there’s no shit, no struggle. I want to know what we could be like. Just us.”