My throat burns as I try to keep the tears at bay, but it's futile, and soon they're overflowing, sliding down my cheeks in small rivulets. "I'm sorry," I say, my voice breaking.
Lucien's eyes blaze and zero in on me as they scan my face. With brows furrowed, he takes a step towards me and cups my face in his hands.
I gasp at his sudden touch.
"What are you sorry for?" he demands.
I'm not sure what he wants to hear right now, so I just go with what I'm feeling right now. "I'm sorry…for everything. I'm sorry for what happened to you in the past. I'm sorry for trying to leave. And I'm sorry that I'm not…clean for you anymore." I squeeze my eyes shut, effectively blocking out his devastatingly handsome face. Shuddering, I choke out on a sob, "I…I feel so dirty."
His hands grip my face a little tighter, forcing my eyes to pop open. "You're not dirty," he tells me angrily. "It's not your fault what happened to you, Adeline." He pushes me up against the hard, unforgiving tile before saying, "You could never be anything less than perfect to me. Don't you get that? You're the purest and most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire fucking life."
Before I can respond to him or even comprehend what he just said to me, his lips smash against mine in a bruising, possessive kiss. His tongue parts my lips, and he dominates my mouth, claiming every inch of me.
I keep my palms pressed against the tiles, afraid of touching him and breaking the spell he has us both under.
He groans, and I swallow it down, wanting more and more of him and never wanting to stop.
But all too quickly, he's pulling away. He releases a shuddering breath as his dark eyes pierce mine. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," he promises vehemently, and I believe him with my heart and soul.
I watch as he retrieves a fresh, white washcloth from the shelf and applies a copious amount of soap until it's a sudsy lather in his large hands. Then he meticulously washes me from head to toe, allowing his fingers and hands to periodically skate over my bare skin this time.
It feels so good that I just close my eyes and allow him to make me feel clean again.
I know I should hate Lucien for what he's done and the fact that he keeps me here as his prisoner. But the truth of the matter is I don't hate Lucien. In fact, I could never hate him.
Because I think I'm slowly starting to fall in love with him.
CHAPTER 7
LUCIEN
AFTER OUR SHOWER together, I tucked Adeline into my bed where Maria had just finished putting on clean sheets. And then I left her under the care of Jax, who was more than happy to check up on her and see how she was feeling.
I should be jealous by his overzealous nature with Adeline as of late, but my thoughts are too fixated on the words she said in the shower.
She feels dirty because of things that happened that were beyond her control. Because of somethingIdidn't prevent. Because of somethingIultimately caused by keeping her here on this island.
Making my way down the steps and to the east wing of the mansion, I enter the gym and flick a switch. A moment later, the numerous overhead fluorescent lights click on, buzzing softly and illuminating the large room with state-of-the-art gym equipment and an indoor pool visible in the next room through a wall of glass.
I inhale deeply, the strong scent of disinfectant filling my lungs. Maria keeps this room immaculately hygienic, and that's what makes it one of my favorite rooms in the mansion.
A battered punching bag hangs from the ceiling in the center of the room, and I don't even wrap my hands before I start wailing on it.
My fists rain blow after blow onto the beat-up leather until my knuckles are bruised and eventually cracked and bleeding.
But I don't stop.
Ican'tstop.
I'm taking all of my anger and frustration out on this bag, and it's the safest way for me to get all of it out of my system.
I blame myself for what happened to Adeline. And all I can think about is how I wish I could have stopped Rafael in some way or changed the course of events.
If I could go back and do everything differently from the start, I would.
But it's too late.
It's too fucking late.
