We’ve been in the house for a week and honestly it’s been nearly blissful. Every day, Heather seems a little more herself. Other than grumbling to Killian about the clothing he bought for all of us. I don’t think she even had an issue with anything he bought when he and Knox went shopping for everything we needed. If I had to put money on it, I’d say she pushes him intentionally. Knox has a theory that she does it because she can and knows she’s safe with us.
“Do you want me dressed or undressed?” I ask as we walk into the bedroom.
Heather pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I swear she does that because she knows it makes me crazy.
“I like to feel your skin against mine. Is it okay if I leave my shirt on, though?”
I nod in agreement.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine.”
She slips her skirt off and it takes all my control to keep my eyes on her face.
“I have a confession.” She says as we get into bed.
Laying her head on my chest with her hand on my arm, she sighs softly.
“I am scared to have sex with any of you, because what if I can’t handle it? And what if you can’t handle the marks on my skin. What then?”
I take a deep breath to calm my instant reaction.
“Why?”
Lifting her head she stares at me as if it’s obvious.
“It’s ugly and I’m so afraid you won’t be able to look at me without seeing him. How can you possibly forget that Carter? Please be honest with me and yourself.”
Flipping us over so she’s underneath me I stroke my fingers down her cheek softly.
“I will probably never forget walking in and finding him hurting you but, it’s not what I see when I look at you.”
“Then what do you see?” She whispers.
“Everything. My entire fucking world. My life started the moment I saw you. So when you ask what I see when I look at you—that’s easy for me to answer. I see you.”
“Carter.” She gasps. “You can stop being perfect now.”
I can’t help but bark out a laugh at her suggesting I’m perfect.
“Little Heathen, I’m a fucked up mess.”
Lifting her head slightly, she brushes her lips over mine. The warmth of her breath licks at my skin like a gentle fire.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Bonetti. You’re perfect to me. And for me.”
Her eyes drop to my lips, and when I lick them, her gaze follows the path of my tongue.
“Carter.” She breathes, and while I’ve never been a fan of my name, I am now. I could listen to her repeat it on an endless loop. The way she says it, breathy and needy, filled with adoration, hits me in the chest every time.
“If you don’t stop me, I’m going to kiss you.”
Heather slides her hand up my arm and runs her fingers into my hair.
“Fuuuck,” I groan when she drags her nails over my scalp.
“Kiss me, Carter.”
I suck her bottom lip between mine, as she whimpers and my cock hardens.
