“I carved this deep into your skin.”
“I let you.”She turns her head slightly, looking at me over her shoulder, hair falling in her eyes.“You didn’t cut me to hurt me,” she whispers.“You marked me because you wanted me.”
I close my eyes.
Want isn’t a strong enough word.
I pick up clean gauze, dab gently, slow, careful.My hand shakes just once when she lets out a soft, involuntary sound as the cloth brushes her skin.I force myself to keep going.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur.
“So are you,” she says.
She’s right.
My hands tremble when I tape the gauze down.My throat is tight.My heartbeat hasn’t slowed since the moment I held the knife to her.
When the wound is covered, I sit back on my heels, staring at the white square against her skin.
My mark underneath.Permanent now.Mine.
My voice comes out low.“You shouldn’t let me touch you again.”
“Then stop touching me.”She says it without turning around.
She knows I won’t.
I reach up and wrap my hands around her waist, forehead dropping to the small of her back, just above the fresh bandage.A prayer and a curse all at once.
“Becki…” My voice is rough.“I’m losing myself with you.”
Her fingers slide into my hair, soft and shaking.
“Good,” she whispers.
I exhale a broken sound into her skin.
She pulls me closer.
And for a long moment, I kneel at her back, arms around her waist, her hand in my hair, both of us trembling as the basement settles around us.
Not lovers.Not yet.Not officially.I haven’t fucked her again.Obeying my President.Technically, anyway.Keeping my cock out of her.Out of her mouth.Out of her pussy.
But we’re not enemies, either.Something far more dangerous.She’s mine.Finally, I force myself to speak.
“You’re staying down here with me tonight,” I say, voice steadying with the decision.“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
She doesn’t argue.She just leans back into my hands, slow and trusting.Trusting me.
After what I did.
That’s what wrecks me most.
I help her ease down onto the bed, curling around her with the blanket half over us, my arms locking around her like restraint and protection are the same thing.
She breathes my name once, almost too soft to hear.
“Royal.”
