“Whose name will you wear on your back from now on?”
When I don’t answer, Dominik tugs harder.
“Yours,” I breathe out, not sure if I’m going to be conscious in the next few minutes.
“That’s right. You belong to me. And if you test me again, I’ll make your next punishment much longer and more severe.”
He doesn’t let me rest until I have another orgasm, and only then do I go limp against his body. As Dominik wraps his arms around me, I feel myself drifting away, unable to count the number of orgasms he’s forced me to have. Minutes later, I feel the comforting warmth of hot water all over my body.
When I finally gather enough strength to open my eyes, I witness Dominik reaching for the shampoo before working it into my hair. He takes his time, washing the rest of my body as he brushes his fingers gently down my skin, paying extra attention to the sensitive areas he just abused.
I find it difficult to let him take care of me like this. There’s something about it that feels uncomfortable, and I’m simply not used to it. I’m not sure I could ever get used to it, but right now, I don’t have the energy to bring it up and start an argument, or face another punishment. So I choose to suffer through the discomfort and patiently wait for it to be over, wait until his fingers don’t feel like they’re branded onto me anymore.
“Why are you so stiff suddenly? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Soft Dominik is back with only concern in his dual eyes.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. What is it? Did I cross a line? You need to be able to talk about it if I did.”
I glance away. “No. This was good… You didn’t push me too far. It’s just?—”
My words fade away as my eyes fixate on the vibrant butterfly tattoo adorning his chest. There is a monarch butterfly with the nameParvanehwritten in cursive right below it.
I lose track of what I was saying as every thought in my head slips through my grasp like sand. I’m at a loss for words. All I can do is extend my trembling hand and trace the delicate wings of the butterfly, feeling its fragile texture beneath my fingertips.
It’s beautiful and incredibly detailed.
I’m almost positive that this tattoo wasn’t there before. There’s no way I could have forgotten a huge butterfly inked across his heart. This is the tattoo from the away game, the same one that was covered up.
Oh my god…
What the hell is this fuzzy feeling in my gut? Must be post-sex hormones.
“Do you like it?” Dominik asks, breaking through the deafening silence.
I feel my cheeks heat as I look up at him, but I still can’t find the words to speak.
Instead, he talks. “That night was the point of no return for me. Seeing you in that red dress—I recognized you instantly. I should have stayed away, should have left you alone, but after we spoke, I was ready to break every promise. Determined to face and overcome every obstacle you placed in my path. I wanted to offer you all of me, from the depths of my soul to the corners of my heart, even if it meant receiving just a small piece of you in return. Whatever you wanted to give me, I would have eagerly devoured. And that night, you gave me the best gift of all—yourself.”
He grasps my hand, pressing it firmly against his chest.
“You etched yourself into my mind and heart, forever leaving your mark. This ink is just a symbol of that.”
My mouth opens and closes several times, but no words come out. I feel like a fish out of water. A deer in the headlights. Whatever stupid idiom there is, it’s me right now. Surprised by his crazy, romantic, doofus confession. I want to get angry, to spit in his face and storm off. And I wait for the anger to find me, but it doesn’t. Instead, I’m filled with warmth. A type of warmth I’ve never felt before.
This confession means more to me than any of the public grand gestures. It feels different, genuine, intimate,and somehow, something more than words can express. That terrifies me more than anything else because there is a glimmer of hope now breaking through the barriers I had carefully constructed.
17
DOMINIK
She’s avoiding me.
I don’t know why I thought I broke through to her. Maybe because that’s exactly what it felt like in the locker room when she spotted the butterfly on my chest. It seemed like we were moving forward. She was emotionally raw and unprotected after our session, and everything simply slipped out. I didn’t even try to put a stop to it. Told her everything I’ve been afraid to say all this time.
I know she’s fighting this, but I thought she would have allowed herself to finally see this for what it is. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way.
I thought if I could break through…force her into my darkness…then she would feel at home, but what if I’ve been looking at this all wrong?
