I felt her stiffen and pull away slightly, but I still had my hand cupped around her cheek and I brought up my other hand so she couldn’t run away. Her eyes were wide as they locked onto mine.
“I won’t hurt you,” I told her. “I swear I won’t hurt you. I only want to make you feel good. Please, allow me to do that for you. Let me do this for you. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”
“You’ve already done that. Before.”
A fresh wave of guilt tore through me when I remembered how violently I’d taken her innocence. And even after it had happened, after I’d seen her tears and felt her pain, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her and I’d taken her again in the bathtub. I’d tried to make it better for her that time, but I know it had to still hurt. And the men who’d had her in that fucking house—my gut clenched until I wanted to vomit just thinking about it—they hadn’t given two shits about the woman they were using.
I pressed my forehead to hers, my hands gentle on her face even as my muscles shook with the effort it took me to hold myself still. “No,” I told her. “I didn’t. I was too rough. And I hurt you. And for that, Sera, I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t know,” she whispered.
I pulled away just enough that I could see her face. “I need to touch you.” But I made no move to do so, knowing instinctively that if I forced her now, I would never get her back. Physically, I could take her body and do what I wanted with it. But that would make me no better than them. No, I couldn’t take her the way I wanted to until I had her complete surrender. And that would take time and trust. So, for now, I needed to wait for her permission. Even if it fucking killed me.
My heart stopped as her eyes dropped down to my chest and her hand rose, slow and shaky, to touch me. I held my breath as I waited, so attuned to her I felt the heat of her fingers just before they brushed my bare skin. With a touch that was barely a touch, her fingertips skimmed over my flesh, tracing the circle of the tattoo that covered my pec.
My eyes closed, and I ground my teeth together as my body reacted to her touch, hardening to the point of pain. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs in short pants.
She pulled her hand away and turned her head, then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Enzo. I can’t.”
The monster inside of me rose up, growling his impatience. I wanted to reassure her and let her know it was okay. I understood it was going to take time. That some people dealt with trauma better than others. But I couldn’t trust myself to speak. I wasn’t used to being told no. From anyone. Leaving her alone on the bed, I headed for the whiskey. The only thing that was going to save her right now was if I got shitfaced drunk. And even then, it was questionable.
I threw back one glass and was pouring another when she followed me out to the other room. “What are you doing?”
“Getting drunk.”
She didn’t say anything, but I could feel her staring at me. I sighed. “Go back to bed, Sera.”
Instead, she remained where she was. “Maybe I should stay somewhere else.”
I swung around to find her standing just inside the room, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “No. You’ll stay here.”
“Enzo…”
“I said you’ll stay here. I can control myself, Sera.” And I could. I would. Even if it fucking killed me. For her.
The look she gave me made it clear she didn’t know whether or not to believe me. “I just thought it might be easier for you.”
“For me? Or for you?” I took a long drink, wishing the alcohol would hurry the hell up and make me numb so I could escape these things I felt for her.
Her eyes dipped down to my sex and shot back up to my face. Her neck and cheeks flushed red. I was only wearing my boxer briefs, and my erection was obvious.
“Where would you go?” I asked her to get my mind off of her eyes on my cock.
She frowned and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I could get a different room.”
I fell back on the only thing I could. “That wasn’t part of our deal, Sera.”
Her mouth opened, and I fully expected her to tell me she wanted out. A request I would deny. But then she closed it again. Without another word, she went back into the bedroom.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I wasn’t sure who I was cursing at. Sera, or myself. I poured myself another whiskey and chugged it down.
What the hell was this pull she had on me? I didn’t understand it. And I didn’t like it. But I was done trying to lie to myself about it. I barely knew her, and yet I was willing to risk my life for her. To kill for her. To deny myself…for HER.
I poured myself another whiskey. Walking over to the couch, I sat down with my drink and stared out at the lights of the city. I’d been obsessed with Alessandra when I’d first met her, too. It was my nature. But not like this. I’d been young then, with all of the randiness of youth. Hell, I had a hard on more often than not whether she was in the room with me or not. She was my first love, and what I’d had to do to her ate away at my insides for years. It still did. But she’d left me with no other choice. It was her or both of us.
And yet, sometimes I wondered what my life would be like now if I’d chosen her and somehow managed to live through it. Where would we be living? Would we have had more children? Would we be happy? Or would we have outgrown each other and I would’ve left the only family I’d ever known for nothing?
Alessandra would still be alive, but what would I be?Whowould I be?
