Page 92 of Mommy

The weight that drops from my chest doesn’t fall deep, instead it lands in my lower abdomen, making me clench my thighs.

“You should be in bed.”

Derek’s voice is muffled by the balaclava and there’s a rumble in his tone that I’m not sure I’ve heard before.

I still don’t move, it’s as if my body is glued to the fabric of the couch and I can barely even take a breath.

“I was waiting for you.”

His low chuckle sends a shiver down my spine, but when his eyes fix on me again, there’s no hint of a smile in the dark green.

“I have something to make up for.”

My confusion must be visible even in the dark, because he goes on without waiting for an answer.

“Do you trust me, Ivory?”

Do I?

I think about the blonde girl again, and I think about how much it hurt that he didn’t say he wasn’t interested. So… Do I trust him?

I trust him not to hurt my body. My heart is a different story, but I get the idea that this is not about my feelings. Something tells me he’s asking if I trust him to not hurt me physically.

I nod, but he shakes his head.

“Words, Ivory. Say it.”

Peeling my tongue from the roof of my mouth, I take a shuddering inhale. Just enough air to voice the words floating between us.

“I trust you.”

Without another warning, Derek’s hands come forward, picking my body up from the couch. But instead of taking me in his arms, he throws me over his shoulder.

The height he brings on when he gets to his feet is a new kind of intimidating when you dangle down his back instead of being carried like a princess. I almost feel nauseous when he carries me up the stairs, and I’m relieved when we finally reach the bedroom.

That is until he sets me down just to stare at me through the mask.

The green of his eyes looks endless, and when I lick my lips and his gaze drops to follow my tongue I’m sure I can see shadows linger around his pupils.

“You’re scaring me.”

Liar.

My voice might be shaky, but it’s not fear that makes my muscles tremble, it’s excitement.

“Do you want to stop?”

He’s already stepping back, so I shake my head, my hands reaching for him.

You’re pathetic.

The thought is deafening. I hate that it’s true.

Derek never gave me an answer to my question and yet, I’m more than willing to let him take me any way he wants. He might have fucked that girl I asked about, and still the hunger in my stomach won’t subside. My fingers still rake over his skin greedily when I get a hand under his shirt.

I fumble to undo his belt, hoping that when I get him all to myself now maybe tomorrow it won’t matter that I’m not the only one.

Maybe if I do a really good job now I won’t have to worry about anyone else when morning comes.