I wonder if I rise on my toes and rub my nose against those angles… will they cut me?
I wouldn’t mind shedding blood for Roman Marcello.
“We’re leaving now. I just wanted to say bye.”
“What time will you be home?” I ask, stepping away from the door so I can open it more, allowing him to slip inside and wrap me in his arms.
“I have no fucking idea, angel. But if you’re tired, then sleep. Don’t feel like you have to wait up for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, knowing there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep until he’s right by my side.
Placing two fingers under my chin, he nudges my head up, entrapping me with his hazel eyes.
Time slows as his head dips down, every nerve in my body coming alive when the heat of his mouth singes my tender lips. Then, like a thief in the night, Roman steals my breath away with a sweep of his tongue along the roof of my mouth.
His hands glide down my arms like butter, falling on the swells of my hips. I can’t stop the mewl coming from my throat as his fingers dig into the towel, bunching the material in his vise-like grip until it's high on my thighs.
Warm, sticky fluid drips between my legs as one of his hands wraps around my back while the other rises to rest against the side of my neck. The heat from his palm sears into my lower spine, causing my knees to buckle with weakness.
“Your pulse is going crazy,” Roman whispers, moving his lips from my mouth to hover over the erratic beat in my throat. I melt against him as I feel my skin being sucked in between his lips, but when the sharp points of his teeth scrape against my skin, I shoot out of his hold, backing up until the corner of the counter slams against my spine.
Roman doesn’t apologize for the nip or the growing erection tenting his jeans. He doesn’t even try to hide the smirk that lifts the corner of his lips, just wipes a bit of moisture away before reaching out to pull me into his chest once again, slowly.
“Call me if you need me, and I’ll be home in an instant. I fucking promise. Okay?”
I nod my head and give him a final kiss goodbye, letting myself linger long enough to feel myself grow wet again.
With more force than necessary, I push myself away from him, one hand holding the doorframe for balance as the other struggles to keep my towel wrapped around me.
Roman leaves me with one last heated look, liquifying my insides until they’re in a pile of sexual frustration.
I listen to the sound of their departing footsteps, sighing sadly when the front door slams shut, leaving me alone in the house until who knows what time.
Dropping the towel, I step up to the mirror and examine my reflection. For a moment, all I see is my stick-thin body, covered in black and blue bruises, bite marks and bleeding lashes scoured along my marred flesh, but with a blink of my eyes, the vision is gone. My body isn’t ruined.
Well, the outside isn’t.
My bones aren’t protruding unhealthily out of my skin, and Roman makes sure I eat three meals a day.
I’m taken care of.
I’m loved.
So why don’t I feel any different?
Huffing out a bitter laugh, I tear my eyes away from myself and slide into my forest green sweatsuit, zipping up the zipper until it hits my chin before punching the light switch, bathing the room in darkness.
“Hey, girl,” I say, bending low to give Shadow a light scratch behind the ear. She follows me into the back room, a small space where mom was able to fit a washer and dryer, and dances around my ankles as I start a load of laundry.
For the next few hours, I run around the house, cleaning every inch until my nose bleeds from the fumes and my head pounds ferociously against my temples.
With nothing left to do, I begin pacing back and forth in the living room, eyes focused on the last door in the house I haven't touched.
I’ve been planning this moment for days but haven't had the nerve to actually consider it until right now.
Straightening my spine, I stroll to my mom’s bedroom, hesitating for only a minute before twisting the knob and throwing the door open.
Shadow darts in, weaving through the darkness to find a comfortable spot on the bed.
