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Stepping forward, I cup her face in my hands. I have no clue what to say. So I just wipe away her tears with my thumbs and press a kiss to her forehead.
Her face finally crumples, and she lets out a sob, burying herself in my coat. I put my arms around her and try to keep myself from tensing too much.
But that prickly feeling spreads like wildfire over my skin, and I have to focus on the snow falling outside the windows just to keep myself from shoving her away from me.
She needs this. It’s just emotions. You can handle it.
So I hold her tightly, watching the snow and taking deep, even breaths. Her sobs calm after a few minutes, but her grip on me doesn’t loosen.
“I can’t get hurt again,” she says eventually, her words slightly muffled by my coat. “Please. I don’t think I can take it.”
I run my fingers through her hair. “We don’t want to hurt you, Wren. I promise that’s the last thing we’d ever want.”
She nods, sniffling, before relaxing into my chest. She feels so small against me, yet she fits so perfectly. Then, with a sigh, she says, “I’m sorry for crying again. I promise I normally don’t do it this often.”
You can cry all the time.
Wait, no. Whenever you want to. Need to?
Fuck.
I cup her chin in my hand, and she looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks. With another deep breath, I try to think of all the things I want to say, but I can’t figure out the best way to get everything out.
Fuck it.
“I know I’m not the best when it comes to affection, or a lot of emotions. But I want to be a safe person for you. I know this is all overwhelmingly fast for you, but I want to make this work. And last. So please—if I’m ever not giving you what you need from me, just tell me. I’ll do anything to keep you, Wren. Including holding you while you cry, however often that ends up being.”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute. Just looks at me. It feels like my throat is caving in on itself. So I focus on the fact that she’s still in my arms. Still holding onto me. Whatever I said couldn’t’ve been that bad if she still wants to touch me.
“That might be the nicest thing someone’s ever said to me,” she whispers. Then she stands on her tiptoes and kisses me softly.
Relief floods me. “I meant every word,” I say against her lips before deepening the kiss. I eat up her moans, sliding my tongue into her mouth. And then she’s tugging my coat off, and I’m letting her, because goddammit, I don’t want to leave.
Her hands come up underneath my shirt, hitting a hyper-sensitive spot, and I grab her wrists with a hiss.
She lights up. “You’re ticklish?! Oh my god, yes!”
“Don’t you dare.”
Somehow, she squirms out of my grasp, tickling my sides. I buckle over, hugging my stomach to protect myself. She’s giggling, trying to get to my armpits before she finally decides to go for the backs of my knees.
Once she’s bent over, I grab her and throw her over my shoulder. “You’re in deep trouble now, sweetheart.”
She just laughs, contorting herself to tickle my armpits. I almost drop her halfway down the hall, but somehow I manage to control myself until we get to her bedroom.
“You think you can do something like that without paying?” I say, throwing her onto the mattress. She bounces, grinning, before scrambling to the far side.
“Oh, so now you run.” I grab her leg and pull her back to me. “Your choice, sweetheart. Either I spank your sweet ass until it’s bright red, or I fuck you until I finish without letting you come.” I undo her pants and pull them down her legs. “Or I can tickle you until you can barely breathe.”
“Noooooo!”
“Then choose, before I choose for you.”
She gasps when I yank her shirt over her head. Then she narrows her eyes, thinking, before saying, “How many spankings, exactly?”
“I’ll go easy on you—this time—and say ten.”
“Ten spankings, or I don’t get to come.”
