“Oh my god, I did not say that out loud, did I?” she gasps, clearly upset.
“Yes, amore mio, you said that out loud. So answer my question. We’ll deal with the other things afterward, but I want to address this first. I was your first real kiss?”
Heat suffuses her cheeks as she nods.
“Use your words, Verity.”
“Yes, you were my firstrealkiss. Unless you count the one I had in elementary school, but I don’t think you should. I don’t know what other kids were doing back then, but I wasn’t kissing anyone the way you kissed me,” she rambles quietly.
“What about your other firsts?” I question before I can stop myself.
“Oh,” she gasps.
“Did you give them away yet?”
Slowly, her head moves from side to side, and I can’t help it. Dipping my head, I take her mouth, kissing her like she just gave me the best gift in the world, because she did. My woman is a virgin. Fuck, I don’t know why that makes me so happy, but itdoes. No one but me has touched her, and now no one but me will ever touch her.
“They’re mine now, amore mio. I won’t take them until we’re both ready, but every single one of your firsts belongs to me.”
Her brow furrows, and her lips dip into a frown. “Would you feel the same if all my firsts were gone?” she questions acidically.
“As far as I’m concerned, what happened before I found you is meaningless. Your firsts, or our firsts, will always beourfirsts, and that’ll make them fucking perfect. But I won’t lie and say that my dick isn’t hard knowing that every part of you will only ever be mine. That every experience you have will be with me, that all you’ll ever know is me.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I wasn’t a virgin?” she questions meekly.
“I didn’t expect it. You’re twenty, Verity?—”
“And I used to be a stripper,” she interrupts.
“Did they know?”
“Yes,” she admits. “Heather is the one who named me Cherry Pie. I used to dance, but…” Pausing, she swallows thickly. “My act wasn’t like the other girls. I was in a private room that the men had to pay to go into. No one was allowed to touch me or come near the edge of the stage. My costumes were…clothes that made me look younger and more innocent. Baby doll dresses and pigtails. I used to dance with stuffed animals and dolls and a… rocking horse.”
“I don’t love that she used your innocence as a sales ploy,” I growl.
“She protected me. Things could have been a lot worse for me if she hadn’t,” she says quickly, defending the woman who exploited her.
“I’m glad she kept you safe, amore mio, but I’m sure she made plenty of money from you too,” I growl. “But that doesn’t matter now. Let’s talk about everything else you said.”
“Do we have to? I think I’ve sounded pathetic enough already today,” she whines.
“Yes, amore mio, we do. I should have done it the moment I found you, but I’ll add you to my bank accounts and get you a card to use. From now on you’ll never need to worry about money again. We’re not rich enough to have a yacht or a private jet, but we’re comfortable enough to not have to worry. You’re not homeless, because you live with me. You’re not jobless, you’re recuperating after a tough few months. And I never want to hear you call yourself worthless again, because you’ve changed my life completely. You’re the most important thing to me, and until you understand how amazing you are, I’ll keep reminding you that you’re worth the entire fucking universe to me.”
Blinking wide, tear-filled eyes up at me, Verity looks lost, like she has no idea what to do or say and is fighting not to cry.
“I can’t,” she starts.
“Can’t what?”
“Any of it,” she says. “All of it. I can’t take your money. It’s bad enough that I’m staying in your house without contributing. I need to get a job and pay rent and buy groceries and, and, and,” she stammers.
“That won’t be happening, amore mio. If you decide to look for a job at some point in the future, your wages will be yours. No money you earn will ever be put toward our home. You will be taking my money; in fact, I might make it a rule that you have to spend so much per week on things just for yourself until you get used to taking care of your wants and not just your needs. You’re not staying inmyhouse; you moved intoourhome. I don’t want to hear any of this ‘my house’ bullshit from you again. After I kissed you this morning, I apologized because I don’t want to rush you, and I never want you to think that anything I give you comes with conditions or expectations. I want you. I think I’vemade that abundantly clear now, but that’s on your time frame, not mine. If you give yourself to me, I won’t give you back, so I want you to be completely confident that I’m what you want. So if that takes six months, or a year or five years, then your bedroom will still be yours, and the kitchen will be stocked with food, and I’ll still take care of everything you need.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she whimpers, a single tear escaping from her eye and rolling down her cheek.
“You don’t need to say anything. Now we can either go and say goodbye to Buck and James, then head next door to meet Nero and Tori, or we can go home and curl up on the couch and watch the TV. Tell me what you need.”
“But you wanted to introduce me?—”
