Page 78 of Lilies from Hell

“I’m fine, Lena, stop worrying,” he says softly, bringing his lips close to my face. I close my eyes as he begins to plant short kisses on my cheek, then my chin, until he reaches my lips. Before he can do anything else. I quickly get up from his lap.

“No. You’re not fine, you’re bleeding.” He presses his lips together and tries to move closer to me in a quick, abrupt movement. “Stop moving, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Let me go with you then.”

“No, stay here. Listen to me, please.”

He sits down reluctantly and I rush to the bathroom, looking for the first aid kit. I grab it from the cabinet and set it on the counter. I take out some bandages, a needle and thread, and a little of rubbing alcohol. I have no idea how I should act now, so I just let my instincts guide me.

“I need you to take off your shirt.”

“Will you help me?” He asks with a cocky smile. His hands resting on either side of my hips. I nod, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks when I notice the bulge in his pants. Focus, Lena.

With clumsy, careful movements, I pull his shirt over his head. He puts me back on his lap and starts kissing the curve of my neck. I try to pull away, but his hands hold me by the hips.

“Stay still,” I whisper as he slips one of his hands inside my pajama pants, slowly caressing my inner thigh.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers, nibbling on the skin of my collarbone. I bite my tongue, keeping my composure and avoiding letting out a moan of pleasure when he starts sucking on that spot.

“Me too, but we have to heal that.” He continues to ignore my demands, entertaining himself with my neck. His fingers are now about to brush against my panties.

I give him a gentle push that makes him move his face away from my neck. Then I take advantage of his confusion to grab the alcohol and a piece of cotton while still sitting on his lap.

“This is going to hurt a little,” I say before bringing the cotton wool with the alcohol to the wound, first removing the dried blood stains. He doesn’t move or anything, he just watches my every move.

When I’m done, I put it aside. He looks back into my eyes with that intensity and sparkle that is so characteristic of him.

“This too.” I hold the thread and needle in my trembling hands.

When I pierce his skin with the needle, he doesn’t seem to flinch. Judging by his calm breathing and the sigh he lets out as he closes his eyes, I’d say he even enjoys it.

I don’t take my eyes off the gruesome sight for a moment, but I feel relieved to see that at least he has stopped bleeding, with only a few drops staining his jeans.

“Does it hurt a lot? I have some strong painkillers,” I say, intending to rummage through the medicine cabinet. He pulls me close with his bloody fingers, inhaling the scent of my hair.

“No, with you by my side, I could endure any pain.” His finger slowly caresses my cheek, leaving a trail of his blood, causing a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach that I quickly forget, not wanting to know why or how it got there.

He lets his head fall on top of mine, staring straight ahead, while I wrap my arms around him and rest my cheek on his chest. I close my eyes, enjoying the sound of his wild heartbeat. It seems to calm down until he starts slowly stroking my hair, and that’s when his heartbeat becomes stronger and even faster than before.

“Let’s take a shower,” he says with an intense look. I just look at him with a pout on my lips. It’s three in the morning. “I want to clean up this mess.”

I haven’t noticed that all my clothes, as well as part of my hair and face, are stained with traces of blood.

“Okay. Let’s go then.” I gasp when he unexpectedly picks me up in his arms and I have to wrap my legs around his waist. “Put me down, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Far from obeying me, he ignores my words and walks to the bathroom, then sets me down on the large shower mat. We look at each other, not knowing what to do.

“I guess we have to take our clothes off,” he says in a hoarse voice, looking away with his cheeks slightly flushed. I still find it incredible that he blushes at these things.

When he starts taking off his clothes and leaving them on the floor, I do the same with my back to him, until I’m left in my panties. My heart races and my hands sweat as I wonder if I should take them off too. It’s stupid, considering he’s seen parts of me that even I can’t see, but somehow this feels more intimate.

Seeing his boxers lying on the floor gives me confidence to get rid of my panties. The next thing we do is step into the shower in an uncomfortable silence. It’s the first time he’s been naked in front of me. His nerves are reflected in his movements, and his eagerness not to look me in the eye at any point. I want to tell him how devilishly beautiful he is, but my brain is busy trying not to convulse. My hands tingle, wanting to caress every inch of his skin. Especially the parts stained red.

Even though my bathroom is larger than normal, the shower is not big enough to hold both of us. We barely have room to move, which means I have to get closer to his chest to turn on the hot water. I press my lips together as I smell the scent of iron closer, and with one false move I manage to step on his foot.

“Sorry,” I whisper, looking up at his neutral expression. He reaches for something next to the faucet, his hand brushing my cheek for a moment, causing my muscles to stiffen.

“Turn around,” he demands in a hoarse voice. I take a while to do as he asks. Having him in front of me like that makes it hard for me to concentrate on anything other than his lips moving slowly and the drops of water sliding down his torso.