The thought makes something dark and possessive curl through me. She won't need to run anymore. Not with me here.
"Thank you again," she says as she measures coffee grounds. "For staying. You really didn't have to."
"I did." No room for argument.
She glances up, those doe eyes searching my face. "Why?"
How do I explain something I barely understand myself? That the moment I saw fear flash across her face, something primitive clicked into place? That I'd tear apart anyone who made her feel that way again?
Before I can answer, her phone buzzes on the counter. The screen lights up with a text. Just a glimpse, but it's enough.
I know he stayed with you. Whore.
Red bleeds into my vision. Every muscle in my body tenses, ready for violence with no outlet. In two strides, I'm across the kitchen. The phone is in my hand before she can react.
More messages. Dozens. Threats. Surveillance details. Sick fantasies.
"He's been watching you." My voice doesn't sound human. "How long has this been going on?"
She wraps her arms around herself, suddenly small. "It comes and goes. Sometimes months of nothing, then..."
"Then he starts again." I finish for her, jaw clenched so tight it might shatter.
I slam the phone down, making her jump. In an instant, I have her backed against the wall, my body caging her in. Not touching—I'd never harm her—but close enough that she can feel my rage radiating off me in waves.
"Did he touch you?" The words tear out of me, rough and demanding. "Ever?"
Her eyes widen, but there's no fear in them. Not of me.
"No—I mean, he tried..." she stammers.
"Tell me," I growl. "Everything."
"There was one kiss in high school. Forced. That's why I broke it off." Her words tumble out quickly. "He grabbed me after class one day, pushed me against the lockers. I pushed him away and ran. That was it. That's all that ever happened physically."
"One kiss." The words taste like poison in my mouth.
"I've never..." She swallows, her cheeks flushing. "I've never been with anyone. At all. I'm a virgin."
The confession hits me like a fucking freight train. My cock goes from hard to granite in seconds. Something savage and triumphant roars through my blood.
Virgin.
Untouched.
Mine.
"Say that again," I demand, my voice dropping to a growl.
"I'm a virgin." Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I track the movement with laser focus. "After Danny started stalking me, I was too scared to date. To let anyone close."
My hand moves before I can stop it, cupping her cheek. Her skin is so soft under my calloused palm that it makes me ache.
"No one?" I confirm, needing to hear it again. "No one's touched this body?"
She shakes her head, leaning into my touch. "No one."
"Fuck," I breathe, reverent and filthy all at once.
