“Thorne wanted me to,” he said carefully, as if vocalizing the man’s name resurrected memories. “He did the piercings himself, not at all experienced. The pain was so intense I remember crying out for mercy.”
“But you’ve kept them,” I said suggestively.
“I wanted my nipples pierced because I knew how much he wanted to play with them. I wasn’t prepared for the pain he put me through. Now”—he took a few long beats before he added—“the piercings are a constant reminder that I survived. I recovered and I learned to live again. Now the only man who will ever touch them will be the person I can trust with my life.”
I craved to say that I could be that man. I’d never harm Ethan intentionally. But it was too early to be making such promises. So, I kept them to myself.
Ethan surrounded me with his arms and spread a ribbon of kisses from my neck down to my torso. Dropping to his knees, he washed my cock with efficient, clinical movements. “If I get carried away down here, we’ll never get to bed,” he said in explanation.
When he was finished, I reciprocated, but I wasn’t as slow or sensual in cleaning him up as the water began to cool and weboth rushed to get out. “Can we go to bed?” I asked. “I want to hold you.”
We toweled off quickly. At his bedside, watching him draw down the bedding and slip in, I had to process what I was doing. I’d never in my whole life, including during my relationship with Finn, been in bed with anyone, much less another man. A tremor went through me.
Ethan pushed down the covers and crawled over to me, his soft cock shifting lazily against his thick thigh. When he approached me, he rose to a kneeling position. Cupping my face, he asked, “Are you wanting to change your mind? We can cuddle on the sofa if you want.”
I shook my head furiously. “No, I do want this. It’s just that…” I sucked in a ragged breath. “I’ve never shared a bed with anyone.” There was a pause. “And I feel like I’m on the verge of jumping off a cliff. Like this is a big thing.”
“This is a big thing.” Swinging his legs arounds, he took my hand and tugging, he urged, “Sit down next to me.”
I did as he asked, my body shivering from his nearness as he wrapped his arm around me. “I’m learning that despite our very disparate backgrounds, we’re experiencing significant firsts together.” He turned my chin so I’d look at him. “I’ve never slept with anyone in bed either. I’ve been fucked and used on a bed. But even with Thorne, he made me sleep in another bedroom. And do you know what?”
I shrugged.
“I’m glad now that I have this moment with you.” He stroked the side of my face and leaned in to give me kisses as sweet as candy. “I’m falling for you, Jude. Even though I’m not sure what that really means because I’ve never been in love with anyone before. But it’s my way of letting you know that if I wasn’t feeling so strongly, we wouldn’t be in this room, much less on my bed together.”
I felt my eyes drift close.Ethan is falling for me. I took a second to ponder how that made me feel.Ethan has never shared a bed with a man before me. His admissions were raw and honest, like the ones he’d confided to me in the confessional, and I knew in my heart that I could believe him. I didn’t reciprocate. I first had to take private time to parse through my feelings. And right now, I was overwhelmed, causing me to wriggle out of his hold.
Disappointment showed in his eyes. They appeared dark as moss with disappointment, but he recovered and let me loose with a weak smile. “I won’t force you, Jude. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.”
“Just like that?” I scoffed and immediately regretted the sound of my voice. More gently, I said, “You make it sound easy.”
When I frowned, Ethan pushed damp hair from my face and pressed his thumb over the wrinkle above the bridge of my nose. He didn’t say more, instead moving his thumb off that spot and smoothing the lines on my forehead. Light, feathery glides over my skin, as if he was swiping away my worries. “It is easy. Let me be the caretaker tonight and hold you.” Standing up, he walked backward a few steps and pulled up the bedcovers for me. An invitation. “Lay down with me, Jude.”
Ethan was patient even as I glanced from him to the welcoming bed with its fluffy pillows. I felt the pull to let my tired body rest. As I climbed in, I muttered, “I feel so stupid. I’m sorry.”
Ethan said nothing. He only kissed my forehead and walked to his side of the bed. I’d almost thought he might crawl over me, but he wasn’t thoughtless. When he was settled, he said, “How are you?”
I covered my face with my hands. “Now that I made that big deal, I’d still like for you to put your arms around me.”
Ethan maneuvered under the covers and said, “Meet me halfway,” as he scooted forward and backed up until his warm body was against me. “How’s that?”
I sighed and groaned. “I don’t mean to worry about every little thing, Ethan. I trust you. It’s not that. I’m overwhelmed. Or rather, fatigued is more accurate. Every step of the way is like a grenade exploding. I’m trying to take the right steps to lessen the clusterfuck, but I’m not doing a very good job.”
Ethan caressed my face and kissed my hair. “I think,” he said tentatively, “maybe you just have to accept the explosions, however distressful, until everything is finalized. In the meantime, you have to remember to breathe easy in the knowledge that your inner strength has prevailed every time it has counted. Tell me what happened with the bishop?”
I reiterated the conversation, ending with how I’d stated our impasse. “I kneeled, kissed his ring, but then I just fled.”
“Sounds to me, Jude, that if you honored his title before you exited, that’s not fleeing. You stood your ground, and the fact that you were honest about us…” Ethan pressed his brow to the back of my head. “Jude, that took immense courage. You’re being accountable for all your actions. You apologized to the man despite his cruel attitude. I wish you’d see yourself through my eyes.”
I nudged closer to Ethan, and he tightened his arm around me. “How do I say, “thank you baby,’ in Italian?”
“Grazie, tesoro,” Ethan murmured behind my ear.
“I thought baby was something like bambino. In Philly where we lived there was a large community of Italians. I only remember a few words, but I recollect hearing women call their babies and small children the bambino word.”
Ethan drew lines on my back with his finger. “You’re right, if the baby in question really is a human baby. But you’reusing baby in a different context so the translation is that of a sweetheart or lover, which istesoro.”
“Writetesoroon my back, please,” I said, my Italian lacking Ethan’s beautiful melody.
