“Take off the mask.”
“Metaphorically speaking - yes.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, la mia gazzella. None of it is your doing.”
“You do know it’s not yours either.” Silence greets me. “Please tell me you know that.”
“These scars you see,” he begins and I listen patiently. “My father didn’t see me as you do. He saw someone he couldn’t possibly understand, someone who constantly disappointed him by simply being who I was and tried to fix me through violence. So, you see, I grew my whole life believing my entire existence is wrong. And I know, Imogen.”
My heart splinters for the young boy who didn’t understand himself but only wanted to be loved and cared for. To be heard. To be seen.
“You know what, Rico?” I whisper, my aching heart in my throat.
“I know there’s something wrong with me. I know there’s no fixing it.”
I frame his face tenderly in my hands. “You can’t possibly believe just because your brain works differently than others that you need fixed.” He averts his eyes. His lips form a grim line. Tension radiates across his body. “Shadow, there’s nothing about you that needs fixing. The world should be more accommodating. People should be more understanding. And I’m sorry your pa made you believe otherwise. You’re not the person he made you. I could kill him for what he’s done to you.”
When his eyes return to mine they’re softer yet filled with pain. He traces my lips with the pad of his finger. Then the bridge of my nose and my brow bones. It’s as if he’s etching me to memory.
“Your empathy is rare and precious. The fact you are still capable of possessing it even after all that’s been done to you shows your character. And for you to believe I deserve it?—”
“You do deserve it,” I state firmly. “Please believe me.”
A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “I’ve never believed in anything until you.”
I press a kiss to his lips in which he reciprocates. It’s a lazy exploration that stokes the flames of desire within me. I feel his cock twitch between us. His fingers then bury themselves in my hips. The bite of pain has him swallowing my moan.
When the kiss is done he presses another tender one to my now swollen lips. “You’re too irresistible for your own good. What will I ever do with you?”
I wink. “I can think of a few things.”
He chuckles. A light and airy sound. It warms my entire being. “And tell me what are these things you’re thinking of?”
“It may be too scandalous for your innocent ears,” I tease.
“Is that right?” He smirks. Without warning he notches his cock at my entrance. “Then do your best in defiling me.”
“My pleasure.” I grin.
And I do.
I take him hard and fast. Using his body as a tool for my own pleasure. I leave claw marks and bites. His hands worship my body in awe as he sings his praises. By the time we’re done the bath water has gone cold and we’ve turned to prunes. But neither of us care. We stay in the bath a little while longer enjoying the embrace of one another.
CHAPTER 32
Imogen
We eventually made it to the bed. Rico is currently brushing my hair with a gentle approach. Even with the small knots he takes his time and never once yanks on the strands.
It should be surprising that a man who harbors death within his hands can be this gentle. But it isn’t. At least not with the man I’ve come to know. The world will never see him as I do. Selfishly I want it to stay that way.
My body is deliciously sore. I ache in ways I never have before. He most certainly ruined me for all men. No one will ever compare.
With deft fingers he works on braiding my hair. “How did you learn to braid hair?”
“It’s much like the ropes I knot. I find it soothing.”
