No. No more.
Not thinking about the consequences, I grabbed his hands, pulling at them with all my might to stop him. Words circled my brain, screaming at him.To stop hurting yourself. Stop blaming yourself. You didn't know any better!
Cezar jerked to a stop, surprising me when his face turned up. Did I say that out loud? Feeling swirled inside me, old wounds of my desperation mixed with the empathy I felt for this soul before me. I couldn't stand here and do nothing anymore.
Blood ran in rivets down his face, a gruesome, scary look that would make anyone run for the hills to get away, but I wasn't scared when I looked into his wide eyes that held something even more dangerous—a sliver of hope.
“Did they tell you that, my Roma? Did the voices tell you to say that?”
His voice hitched at the end, and the mixture of disbelief and reverence rang clear. My bleeding heart couldn't lie to him, so I shook my head, wishing I could hear them. “No. I didn't hear your voices.” Looking down at my lap, cheeks flushed at having my feelings, ones I have kept locked up tight, on display. “I know what it's like to feel weak and alone. To find ways to blame yourself just to cope, but…” I took a deep breath, reminding myself that at least if I died, only the crazy one saw this side of me.
Lifting my hand, I cupped the check of the rapid beast dripping in blood, making my own hands run red again. “It's a lie.” I fell forward, resting my forehead on his as I tried to tell him the truth, one survivor to another. “We need to accept our situation and tell ourselves we did our best. That's it.”
His eyes closed as he shook his head, not wanting to believe me. The school books would tell me to back off and let the client realize on their own, and I should do that, especially in my situation, but my heart wouldn't let me.
Grabbing his face with both hands, nails digging into his skin, I yanked his head. “Look at me, Cezar.” He cracked open his eyes, his hands hovering over mine, but I had his full attention. “You did nothing wrong.”
“But you don't know, wild Roma, you don't know what I did!”
The agony from his voice filled the room, making it hard to breathe, but I pushed through. Something deep inside of me craved those same words. “Did you do it because you wanted to? Was it your idea? Was your hand not forced?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Not me… but…”
“But what?”
His hands clutched at his chest. “It's in me. In my blood.” He tugged at his shirt collar, scratching his nails so deep they were making bloody tracks. “I can't escape it.” His eyes went wild, skittering around the room, getting distant, lost in his head, and not how I was used to.
An idea hit me, one that could snap him out of it. I grabbed hold, not thinking of the consequences, just wanting to see that look disappear from his face. Tugging on the back of his neck, I proclaimed, “Yes, you can,” and slammed my lips onto his.
An acidic copper taste hit my lips, and I pushed through it, desperate to snap him out of his episode.
Using my teeth on his lips, I bite down, hoping the extra jolt of pain will help get his head straight…or at least enough to get him to his regular state. He let out a long, torturous moan before he grabbed me, deepening the kiss further than I originally wanted, but I didn't stop him.
His lips were surprisingly soft. For a second, I pulled him in tighter, losing myself in the feel of a man. Once he kissed me back, the kiss took on a whole nother tone.
His hand slid down my back, pushing just enough to get me bending to his will. He turned my frantic, rough kiss into a smooth, sensual exploration. The copper taste disappeared, turning sweet, and I found my hands curling into his shoulders, clinging to that sweetness.
I haven't been with a man in so long, having only a couple of one-night stands to scratch that itch. Men always told me I was too ‘on guard’ and ‘focusing on my studies’ to have a meaningful relationship. While they weren't wrong, I also didn't feel that everlasting spark my mom always talked about, but for some reason, this crazy man had stirred my soul, and I don't know what it meant.
His hands skimmed my waist, causing my skin to shiver. That bolt of lust that took over me jolted my body, and a bolt of reality hit me. I was making out with an insane person. Someone who kidnapped me. Whose brothers won't hesitate to hurt me? What the fuck are you doing, Kazia?!
Even worse, I could be seen as taking advantage of him in his unstable state. It was unethical. Wrong.
Breaking away from him, my breathing came out in huffs, and I realized that I needed to approach this carefully. I looked into his emerald jeweled eyes, trying to keep my mind off what my body craved. “Cezar, I didn't-”
“It's alright, my Roma. We can take it slow.” He set his cheek on my collarbone, sighing out, “You're my anchor. I know that now. Even when I sail far, far away into the deep blue sea, you are the chain that brings me back to shore. Those nasty sharks and pirates can’t get to me with you around.”
The more he spoke, the worse I felt. What was wrong with me? Taking advantage of him like that. I know better and was taught better. Maybe…. I'm going through an episode, trying to survive and romanticizing it all in my head. Yes. I was trauma responding.
Then why did the Romani soul inside tell me I was wrong?
Cezar's head popped up, getting right in my face with a lopsided smile, “I knew when they spoke, I needed to listen, especially when M speaks.” His finger trailed down my neck, stopping at the top right above my breast. “Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to hear the voices again just yet. I like it when it's just me and you in here.” He pointed to his head as he chuckled, waiting for my answer.
“Sure.”
I wanted to kick myself. I had an out, a way to create some distance and boundaries, and instead, I went with the gut answer again. Fuck me.
He turned my legs, putting them on the bed as he made room for himself, covering both of us with the blanket.
