My hands shake as I grip the hem of the dress to pull it up and over my head. And then follow that up with my bra and panties. Standing before him nude is difficult. Not only because of the instinct to cover myself but due to the tendrils of alarm snaking themselves around my mind.
Will I ever stop feeling vulnerable when I’m with Rafael?
Or will he ever stop doing things that bring this out in me?
He tilts his head toward the stream of running water. “Get in.” After I step inside the glass-enclosed space, he roves his gaze over my body in a slow, assessing manner. “Turn around.”
I squeeze my eyes shut once my back faces him, allowing myself this brief reprieve, this second to let my guarded expression fade. Tears, repressed from before, mix with the droplets streaming onto my cheeks. They’re both warm, but only one set of moisture is salty and bitter.
All I’ve ever wanted is the security that comes from knowing someone—who cares for me—is always protecting me. I may not have admitted this deep desire to anyone, maybe not even myself until now. And it’s painful knowing I’ll never have that in the same way I’d be willing to offer it to someone I love.
So, I grieve for the things lost.
The things that have never been.
And that never will be.
Rafael takes a shampoo bottle and the scent of eucalyptus and mint merge in the steam around me. Before he works the soap into my hair, I prepare myself for his touch, and when it comes I go statue-still to prevent myself from leaning into his hands.
He massages my scalp and despite his terseness from earlier, the pressure of his fingers is gentle. “Rinse your hair,” he says.
I turn around and find him staring at me, a murderous expression on his face. Immediately I take a retreating step. Suds from my hair cascade down my body and disappear into the drain, taking my momentary courage along with them. I back up until I’m directly under the waterfall shower head. If only it could wash away more than just dirt, but the filthy things in life.
The sordid things in me.
“What is it?” I wrap my arms around my middle, shielding myself. “I said I was sorry, and yet you’re acting as if I’ve done something to offend you. If you’re not going to accept my apology, then please leave me alone.”
Rafael walks into the shower fully dressed and doesn’t stop until the tips of his shoes brush my toes. I curl them, but that is my only show of surrender. The water pours onto my face and inhibits my vision, so I can’t see him all that clearly when his hand shoots out to grasp my neck. He slams me into the tiled wall and the coolness of it seeps into my skin, but doesn’t chill me more than the cold rage in his eyes.
“You’re sorry, but it’s for the wrong things,” he growls. “How about you apologize for almost fucking dying?! Or subjecting me to hearing that motherfucker talk about raping you?”
Rafael leans into me, smothering me with his body and squeezing the little bit of air still left in my lungs. “Why don’t you try imagining what it was like to find you lying on that bed, lifeless and covered in blood, knowing I was unable to do anything about it?”
His grip on my throat tightens to an almost unbearable point, but I don’t have the inclination to say anything. Not when he’s finally giving me a glimpse into his mind. Rafael may not lie to me, but he doesn’t tell the whole truth either. However, these are the real thoughts that aren’t a performance or to keep people at a distance.
This is him raw and unfiltered.
He slides his hand away from my throat and takes my chin. “Hold still while I clean every inch of you so I don’t have to smell that cocksucker on your skin.”
Rafael’s movements, unlike before, are rough and jarring, and bite my bottom lip to keep from making a sound. I preoccupy my mind by watching him. His hair now drips onto his raven-colored suit that’s plastered against his muscular body like a second skin. The tips of his eyelashes collect tiny droplets that fall whenever he blinks and I follow them with my gaze as they trail down his cheek and then his jaw.
“I didn’t know it mattered to you,” I whisper when I can’t take the silence anymore. “I’m truly sorry, Rafael.”
He scoffs and my heart stutters in my chest. “Oh, my dear, youwillbe.”
Rafael
Icould kill my fiancée for what she’s put me through tonight.
But even more so, I’m pissed because of what she put herself through.
When I first recovered Carina from that horrific ordeal, I wanted nothing more than to comfort her and offer her my support. She’s a strong woman, and watching her take solace in me stirred something within, a fierce urge to proclaim to the world she’s mine and untouchable.
It was my intention to give her the reassurance she so desperately needed, but the more I thought about the other scenarios in which this night could’ve ended, the more I knew I had to make a drastic change.
Carina will not only marry me, but give me her submission.
The water from the shower has darkened her hair and the tresses framing her face and neck make the bruises on her throat all the more pronounced. I would never let anyone mark what is mine. But she wasn’t then, not really.
