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“You’re good, Remi. I doubt you’ll ever piss me off that much.” I laughed, attempting to hide the same concern. “You can face your fears. Be brave,” I said, like a total hypocrite.
“Yeah.” He laughed, that latte scent more intense in my nose. “You can be brave, too.”
He kissed my neck, and goosebumps ran down my arms.
A tearing sound cracked through the silent room as Remi’s hands ripped the silk gown down the center, and my breasts fell out.
I wanted to hide away again. I wanted to cry. I wanted to shove him away as he towered over me despite the pedestal.
My arms twitched at my side. His fingers weaved into mine, stopping me from covering myself.
“Don’t hide from me, Dream.” He squeezed my hands in his, encouragement to stay at my sides.
I turned my head away, refusing to look, not expecting him to pull my hands behind my back, both hands cuffed in one of his. His other hand directed me to the mirror, his face moving close, stubble against my cheek as he kissed right next to my lips.
“What do you see that hurts you so much, Little Dream?”
“I’m damaged.”
“Wrong. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” He kissed me again, his tongue pushing into my mouth, letting me taste his truth. “Say it.”
I shook my head, my hair moving from its desired place.
“Say it, Cat, and believe it because I do.”
“I’m not perfect—”
“You are perfect. To me. Always.”
“I’m perfect for you.” The whisper came out, surprising even myself.
His fingers loosened like he realized my wiggling wrists were starting to bruise.
“Keep your hands at your side.”
What he asked was a struggle as his long fingers cupped my mangled breast.
I stepped back into him. His hands steadied me as I almost fell.
“Good thing you’re not in heels.”
“I’d rather wear my sneakers.” I shrugged.
“You always did.” He smiled, remembering outfits I couldn’t.
He twirled me to face him and the sardonic smile he had just for me.
His hand moved to my breast again, and I internally cringed.
“I’m gonna fuck you tonight. And you’re not gonna play with my ears every time I touch these.”
“Do you hate that?”
“Usually, no. Last night, yes. Before your nightmare, at least. “Ears are off-limits during intimacy. Got it? Because you only play with them when you’re scared. You can’t be scared of me. I need you to give yourself to me fully.”
“I didn’t mean for us to stop. I wanted you to take it further. I’m just nervous about your opinions.”
“My opinions on you are all very high.”
