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She turned the chair without me asking.
A smile curved my lips over the idea of her giving me something as special as her trust, and my fingers couldn’t help stealing a touch that whispered promises of soothing her pain as I brushed away the hairs that didn’t want to be confined in her braid.
“No hurting me,” was her only request.
“I will try my best, and I’ll call you a good girl if you don’t scream and wake the house.”
I tested her limits with that statement but knew she could handle it. She wasn’t like most trafficking victims. Maybe, it was because she couldn’t remember half of the shit that happened to her. Maybe it was something else. But she didn’t shy away from a stranger’s touch. She showed me compassion, not fear, in circumstances that called to both emotions. Maybe she’d feel differently if she knew she was in a house full of sex offenders.
But now wasn’t the time to tell her that.
I kissed the space between her ear and neck, fucking torturing myself because it couldn’t be more.
The ache in my cock pulled my lips away, warning that I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I did something that stupid again.
But I didn’t drift too far.
Staying close, I watched goosebumps rush up her legs and her fingers as they rubbed at her skin to try to brush them away.
A laugh rumbled in my throat.
She glanced over her shoulder, showing me her words as she spoke, “Don’t laugh at me. I’m trained to respond to touch.” Her words were lies that could have dropped me to my knees, if only they were true.
They pulled me closer again, my fingers clutching her face and forcing her to see me and all the strain I felt.
“We both know that isn’t true, Cat.”
Her eyes followed each word leaving my mouth.
“Your body remembers me, even if your mind doesn’t.” I let go of her face, but she didn’t turn away.
“I wish my mind did.”
I was grateful it didn’t. It was selfish, but I was grateful for the blessing in disguise that gave us a second chance.
Breaking into Rothbart’s manor, I expected her to fight me off, emotionally, at least, before she chose me as the lesser evil. Because the reality was, if she remembered me, we wouldn’t be here, inches apart from each other, with me stealing touches and moments that would haunt me if those repressed memories ever come back.
“My heart feels something. It aches...”
Mine dropped, but she quickly lifted it back into my chest.
“But not like earlier. It’s emotional and raw.”
“It’s called heartbreak, little darling. Like I said, your body remembers me.”
“Did you break my heart, Remi darling?”
I’d have laughed if not for the words that were coming.
“I’m sure there were nights I made you cry yourself to sleep, and it could have all been different.” I paused. “I wish it was.”
She nodded, feeling my truth as it loitered between us.
“Well, make it different this time. Don’t break my heart again. As you know, it’s already faulty.”
“No jokes about that. We’ll be getting it sorted as soon as possible. Now, turn around, let’s get shit done.”
“I will, but Remi, you won’t hear me talking, but I’ll hear you. Will you just keep distracting me, in case it hurts?”
