Page 21 of Shatter

There is only one person in this entire world who sees me - who knows me - the real me. Even if I'm not entirely sure who that woman is.

I rock my hips again, and stare into his eyes as I come on a long, low moan.

He bites his lip, and furrows his brow as he comes, but his eyes never once leave mine.

Chapter eleven

Harrison

Igather her against my body, trying to slow my breathing. I pinch my eyes shut, unwilling to face what we just did. I know I'll have to sooner rather than later, but right now, her sweat-soaked skin is slick against mine, my cock is softening inside her, keeping her full of me, and her sobs have faded to whimpers and sniffs.

I shouldn't have punished her without talking about limits beforehand. Consent is king and I bulldozed all over it in my desperation to help her. I punished her without discussing safe words or safe touches - ways she can touch me to express a limit if her mouth is full.

But she found me at an emotionally raw moment. A month of sleepless, guilt-filled nights. A month of regrets, worries, and fears had done a number on my nervous system.

I'd regretted hurting her; indulging her in primal play. I'd regretted saying anything that pissed her off. I'd regretted not talking to her about why she was seeking out primal play to begin with and why she had self-inflicted scars on her inner thighs.

I'd worried about her endlessly. I'd worried about her regretting that night. I'd worried about hurting her. I'd worried about how she was going to look at me the next time we saw each other. I worried that someone was going to find out and release the scandal to the public. I'd worried I'd done the wrong thing, indulging her.

I was afraid I'd hurt her. I was afraid she'd wake up the next morning disgusted with me. I was afraid I was just another man taking advantage of her and demanding access to her body. It hadn't felt like it, in the moment, but fear isn't always logical. I had meant to scare her. I had meant it to allow her to experience primal play with an experienced hunter. I had wanted to protect her, but at the end of the day I'm not sure that I did.

Finally, her whimpers and sniffs fade and her breathing evens out.

Wrapping my arms around her, I roll her gently onto her back, letting my over sensitive cock slide out of her. Guilt floods me, even as I gently press my thumb against her opening, pushing my cum back inside of her. I'm relieved to know she has an IUD because that was another fear of mine - we hadn't talked about birth control at The Envelope. I expect her to be smart about her birth control, but as half of that equation, it's equally my responsibility.

I heave a sigh worthy of a Greek tragedy and pad barefoot into the bathroom. Flicking on the light, I turn the tap on and let it run, teasing my fingers under the water and waiting while it warms up. Looking at myself in the mirror, I have to come to terms with the man looking back at me.

My skin is flushed; my shoulders more relaxed than they've been in awhile. I'm completely naked, and that causes a tiny grin to lift my lips. She's the first person I've ever been naked in front of.

I just slept with my step-niece. It sounds forbidden. It sounds naughty. But I find I just don't care about societal conventions. I see a man willing to do or be whatever she needs. Maybe I have a savoir complex. Mel's always been special to me, but in a way that stands out from everyone else I've ever met. Even as a child, she stood apart. Not in beauty or personality, but in her loneliness. She was a child surrounded by people, but walking her life utterly alone. I've always wanted to protect her. Maybe because I saw myself in her - alone in hospitals, alone in burn wards, alone in navigating how to mourn the life I once thought I'd have.

I'd played Little League baseball when the fire happened. I wanted to play for the MLB. I knew it was a childish dream, but the physical therapy that the skin graphs required were painful. For the longest time I couldn't extend my left arm completely without the new skin painfully pulling.

I try not to worry about what this means for us. She's not dating Parker like I thought, so that alleviates some of the guilt, but what now? We've fucked twice. What we just did? I have no idea what that was, and I don't want to analyze it very hard.

In reality, there's no future for me with her. She's young; the world's most famous actress. She flies all over the country and the world, filming, giving interviews, shooting commercial photos and videos. She's a level of famous that is completely out of my league. I'm ten years older. I'm only thirty-five, so I'm not entirely past my prime, but I'm established. I have my routines, my career, my friends, my sister. I just can't imagine a future I could give her that she would want.

She deserves someone like Parker. Young, kind, innocent - someone who could be a good partner for her as she conquers the world. I already know I'm not the kind of man who could be on her arm at red carpet events. The public would be ruthless with my appearance; my career. It'd be professional suicide for her.

I shake my head and let the water pool in my hands before splashing it on my face. Whatever this is, it's a phase. She's looking for a thrill, or an escape.

One thing I know deep in my bones, is that I'll be whatever she needs.

But I have no illusion of this ever going anywhere.

I can be her safety net for as long as she needs it.

And then set her free to find her happily-ever-after.

I find two wash clothes under the sink and soak them both in the warm water.

When I walk back into the bedroom, she's curled up around my pillow, snoring softly.

I sit on the edge of the bed, rest the wash clothes on my thigh, and gently move her until she's on her back. She hums happily and a dreamy smile spreads across her lips. It's her real smile - not the one she uses with the rest of the world.

I tap her hip. "Open up for me, baby," I say, flinching at the nickname. She's not my baby.

Under the comforter, I use the washcloth to clean her pussy and thighs. With the other washcloth, I gently wipe her cheeks, forehead, neck and chest.