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He stepped out so she could change. Why couldn’t she tell him? What was she so scared of? That he’d think she was weak? He’d already seen her weak. He hadn’t left. He was still here. Despite everything.
“I’m ready,” she called out.
Walking in, he lifted her gently and carried her back to bed. Lying her down, he tucked her in gently. Then he climbed in beside her. She lay on her back. There was no way she’d go to sleep now. And at least if she told him in the dark, she wouldn’t have to see his face.
“He hurt me. He cut my stomach. I have a scar.”
There was silence for a long moment then he rolled towards her. “Will you show me?” He reached out and placed his hand over hers. “Take my hand and show me.”
Grasping hold of his hand, her cheeks going hot, she lifted his hand and raised her T-shirt up so it was just under her breasts. Then she placed his hand over her scar. Gently, so lightly she could barely feel it, he ran a finger over her scar. She let go of his hand, letting him explore.
“Can I kiss it? If you want me to stop at any time, just say stop.”
“Okay.”
He pushed the covers back, moving lower in the bed, curling himself up onto his side, and then leaning up on one elbow. Then he placed kisses along her scar.
“Ed,” she groaned.
“I hate that you were hurt. That I wasn’t there to protect you. That you were in pain, afraid, that you still have nightmares.”
“Me too.” Even though she knew it was silly, she felt like if he’d been around that nothing bad would have happened to her.
He kissed up her stomach until he reached the bottom of her breast, where the T-shirt was bunched. She sucked in a breath. Would he touch her there? How would she feel about that? Her pussy was currently damp, her clit throbbing with the need to be touched.
“Easy, baby. I know you’re not ready for anything more,” he soothed.
“I . . . I . . . what if I am?”
He stiffened then relaxed. “Do you want me to touch you? To give you pleasure?”
“Maybe.” Definitely. “I mean, only if I get to do the same to you.” She wasn’t a selfish lover.
“No.”
Disappointment was sharp.
“Tonight, it’s just about you.”
“That’s not fair.”
“To who? I get what I want most, to touch you. And you get pleasured.” And then he nudged his T-shirt over her breast and took her nipple into his mouth. She arched up off the bed with a cry.
“But don’t you want me to touch you?” she asked.
He licked over her nipple. “I’m not just in this for a quick fuck, Georgie. I’m in this for you. I want you. In all ways. Yeah, I want to fuck you. But I want your soul more. I want all of you.”
He slid his hand under the boxers she wore to run his finger along her pussy. He ran it up and down her slit as she breathed heavily. She groaned, wanting his touch against her clit.
Could she give him that? She wanted to. Desperately. He moved her T-shirt up over her other breast then leaned over her to lap at her other nipple. “Your breasts are fucking addictive. I want to wake up every morning and roll over to suck on these beauties.”
Just the thought of him doing that had her crying out.
“You like that idea too, don’t you?” he asked huskily. “You’re going to be mine, Georgie. Forever.”
She sucked in a breath. “Uh, you can’t just say that.”
“It’s already decided,” he countered.
