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Didn’t happen? How fucking dare she. “Is that so?” I say icily. “Then I’m going to make sure that after this time, you can’t pretend.”
There’s a beat of fearful silence. Vivienne knows I don’t make idle threats.
“What do you mean, Tyrant?” she whimpers.
I pull my fingers out of her, grasp her thigh, and flip her over onto her back. That underwear is coming off. I yank them off her legs, throw them down on the floor of the car, and then brace my hands on either side of her head. “What a sweet sight you made in the window earlier as you cuddled your baby brother.”
Vivienne doesn’t realize how sexy she looks doing the simplest of things. When she brushes the end of her pencil across her plush lower lip as she pauses mid-drawing to think. When she gathers all her heavy, dark hair into her hands and twists and turns it into a long braid. And especially when she cuddles her baby brother, so protective and loving, with a warm, sweet expression on her face.
“Youarestalking me,” she whispers, her eyes wide.
Of course I am. It’s my business to know everything that goes on in this town, especially when it comes to Vivienne. Her schedule is packed on weekdays with classes, studying, and sewing, and she fills her Saturdays with museums, galleries, and thrift shopping. Sunday morning she does laundry, but Sunday afternoons are long and empty. Sunday afternoon is when she might do something dangerous.
“I need to see more of you.” I reach for the button at the neck of her blouse.
Vivienne grips my hand with both of hers and desperately shakes her head. “No, please.”
“What are you hiding from me?” I ask, an edge to my voice.
“Nothing.”
“Vivienne,” I growl in warning.
“Nothing…new.”
“So show me.”
Slowly, Vivienne lets go of me and unfastens the buttons all the way down her front. She holds the blouse closed for a moment, and then winces like she’s in pain and pulls it open.
I let my gaze travel down her torso, taking in every single detail. Devouring the sight of her. She’s wearing a triangle bra that I think she made herself from thin, gauzy fabric. I imagine her sewing the delicate lace and carefully fitting it to her breasts. Her nipples are standing out sharply beneath the sheer fabric. I trace my fingers down her chest and over her belly button and she trembles at my touch. Her flesh is warm. I brush my fingers over her ribs, and she gasps and tries to close her blouse, but I won’t let her.
Covering her ribs are dozens and dozens of horizontal scars, all of them white and puckered. Not one of them is red and swollen and there are no bandages. Nothing fresh. The monsters haven’t been howling at her and dragging her into the darkness with them lately. I’m the biggest monster in her life right now.
“Say what you said the first time,” Vivienne whispers, her hands covering her face as if she’s afraid of what she’ll see in my eyes.
“Vivienne. Look at me.”
She hesitates, and then fearfully lowers her hands. I take her chin in my hand and make her look deep into my eyes so she can feel how much I mean this. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
Vivienne’s chest heaves in a sob.
With shaking fingers, she reaches up and pulls me down to her and desperately kisses my mouth. That’s my girl. That’s my good fucking angel of a girl. I kiss her slowly, hungrily devouring as much of her as I can. Savoring the sweet taste of her and the desperate way she surrenders her mouth to mine.
I find the button on her pleated skirt and pop it open, and shimmy the garment down her legs. She’s naked beneath me except for her sweet little bra, and I pull the cups down until her nipples pop out, tight and dusky pink.
Reaching down between us, I unfasten my belt and pants, reach inside my underwear, and drag my cock out.
“Has anyone else touched you?” I demand.
She shakes her head.
I would have known if they had, but the angry, jealous beast is roaring within me, and I need to hear it from her. That none of the boys at her college have crept into her room. Grabbed her ass in the hallways. Tried to touch what’s mine. I have to know she wouldn’t want anyone else to touch what’s mine.
“You’re only for me, angel. I killed that asshole who cut you, and if anyone else touches you, I will put a bullet in his head.”
Vivienne’s palms are pressed tight against my chest and her thighs are hugging my hips. The plaintive look in her eyes says that she’s only ever wanted me.
“Do you believe me?”
