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I lean back, fixing her with a smirk. “As much as you drive me crazy, Princess, I like you.”

She grins. A real one this time. “I like you too,” she admits. “Even though you’re kind of arrogant. And annoying.”

“Okay, we were being nice,” I protest, giving her waist a squeeze hard enough to make her squirm. I cock my head. “You know, this is the second time I’ve woken up in your cabin.”

She scrunches up her face. “Technically, the first wasoutsidemy cabin.”

I shrug a shoulder. “Potato pot-ah-to.”

She laughs.

I reach my arms around her, pulling her against me hard enough that we both fall back on the bed. Then I roll us over so that she’s pinned underneath me. She’s laughing, but as I get to work kissing my way down her neck, her laughs turn to quiet gasps for air. My hand roams under her tank, finding her breast and teasing her nipple. She arches her back, her breath picking up.

My hand travels down her stomach, under the waistband of her shorts and panties, finding her center already wet. I insert a finger inside, feeling myself harden as she moans and throws her head back against the mattress.

I insert a second finger, then a third, and she whimpers.

“Your pussy sore from last night, Princess?”

She gives a laugh that quickly turns into another moan. “Someone thinks highly of themself,” she quips, although it comes out breathy.

I chuckle, pumping my fingers a little slower. “Idon’t wanna fuck you if you’re hurting.”

“I’m not hurtingthatbad,” she says, her gaze meeting mine, almost as if challenging me.

I sit up, grabbing her shorts and underwear and pulling them down her legs in one fell swoop. She yelps in surprise as I spread her legs before me, scooting back on the bed and lowering my head between them. My eyes are glued to hers as I slide my tongue along her slick entrance. She’s propped on her elbows, her breasts straining through the thin fabric of her tank, her nipples erect. I gently probe her opening with my tongue, diving in slowly.

“Fuck,” she mutters, throwing her head back.

I grin, continuing, when something catches my eye. I pause, lifting my head, my gaze zeroing in on the skin above her hip bone. Little marks, lines—no,scars. All across her hip bones and lower belly. A place that underwear or a bikini bottom would easily hide.

My hand moves to her hip almost involuntarily, my thumb running gently over one of the raised lines.

Addison’s breath hitches, and she freezes, staring down at my hand.

“What are these?” I breathe, even though I know exactly what they are.

She’s silent, but she doesn’t pull away.

My gaze flits up to meet hers, her expression a strange mixture of grief and … shame.

“Baby,” I whisper. Not Princess. Not Addison. Because all I can see is the scared, little girl curled up in a ball on the front porch. Is that why she did this to herself? A way to cut through the panic?

She shakes her head, looking away from me. “It’s fine,” she says quickly. “I don’t do it anymore.”

Based on the scars, how healed they look, I believe her.

“Why did you ever do it?” I ask, still gently caressing the scars as if I can rub them away.

She makes a noncommittal noise, but I stare up at her. I want to know. Ineedto know. She sighs. “A distraction,” she finally breathes. “The physical painhelped me cope with … everything up here.” She gestures to her head with a humorless laugh. Then her expression hardens, and her gaze follows my fingers as they skim over her hip bone. “I don’t do it anymore,” she repeats, as if saying it again will numb her shame.

But I don’t want her to feel shame at all. And I feel like so much more of a dick for my accidental comment to her last night. There’s so much more to her than I ever imagined.

“You’re so strong, Princess, you know that?” I ask, leaning down to press a kiss to her hip bone.

She blinks down at me in surprise, her lips parting slightly.

“And if anyone ever makes you feel otherwise, you should punch them in the fucking face,” I add. “Even if it’s me.”