She shakes her head, and when she closes her eyes, two more tears roll down her cheeks. Oh, if she could speak,what would she say?
I reach for her mobile and shove it into her hand.
“Tell me why you cry.”
She sniffs as she quickly types.
No one’s ever held me like that before.
I don’t expect the way she impacts me. It’s like I’ve been given a gift I never expected, a rare treasure worth more than anything I’ve ever sought or won.
I’m the first man she’s kissed.
The first that’s held her.
I’ll be her first everything.
I shake my head, and wrap one arm around her while I brush my fingers through her hair. “You’ve been mistreated.”
She doesn’t respond, of course, not even a nod or a text this time.
I hold her to me, inhaling her fragrance and feeling her soft breathing on my neck.
“You’ve been abused, even.”
Again, no response. Does she fear the same here?
I want to carry her to my bedroom, lay her down on my bed, and make love to her until I’ve drawn every possible emotion from her, until she looks to me to give her everything. I want her to feel connected and safe. Owned. I don’t want her worrying about who will hurt her. I want her to know that I’m the one who will protect her.
“Come here,” I say, drawing her nearer. I run my hand over her shoulder, down her back, to her heated arse, still striped with my belt. Her breathing hitches, and she moves a little closer, so her legs are pressed up to mine.
I slide my hand down her chest, palming her breasts and cupping her belly before I place the heel of my palm between her legs. Her pelvis jerks, and she holds me tighter.
This woman’s never experienced the heat of passion or the afterglow of making love. She’s never experienced any of that.
I’ll fix that.
I bend and capture her mouth with mine. She kisses me back, and I lose myself to her. So soft, so sensual, so evocative. I slide my tongue into her mouth, a gentle exploration, as I let my fingers do an exploration of their own.
She nearly collapses against me, her hips jerking as I stroke her, and her pussy spasms as my tongue meets hers. Her arms tighten around my neck, and I increase the tempo of my fondling, her tongue sending frissons of arousal and awareness through me. I circle harder, faster, until she’s writhing and her hips jerk against my hand. I ease her climax out of her gently, until she sags against my shoulder, her arms draped around my shoulders as if I just rescued her from drowning.
I want to do so much more to her. So much fucking more to her.
“It’s time to go downstairs in a while, but you need some rest first, I think.”
The gaze she gives me is shy and vulnerable, as if she’s afraid I’ll leave her after I’ve given her pleasure.
She’s mine. I won’t ever leave her. It will be my duty in life to ensure she’s well cared for, no matter what.
I’m surprised at the vehemence of my reaction. I never expected to feel this way about her like I do. Hell, if I’m honest, I never expected to feel this way about anyone.
Like she’s special to me. Like I need to protect her from the harm that can come from both our friends and enemies. They’re equally dangerous.
I want to protect her from the harm that can come fromanywhere.She’s so vulnerable, so innocent.
Not anymore.
I close my eyes against the rush of emotion when I think about what this means for us. We’re far more than captor and prisoner.
