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The thought makes my cock protest painfully in my pants. When she was rubbing her sweet cunt on me, I really thought I was going to come right there, still fully clothed. The way her hips desperately searched for more, begging for me to fuck her the way we’ve both craved since we were old enough to understand what sex was. But she’s not ready yet. And she might never be.
This time, when she shoves against my chest, I take a step back. As badly as I want to crowd her and force her to tell me what happened to upset her, I’m not that big of an asshole. At least not when it comes to her.
She darts from the shower and wraps a towel around her naked body so quickly I almost miss the silver and pink lines and dots marring her perfect stomach and thighs. Scars. But she flees from the bathroom before I can say another word.
I stand in the shower for a few moments, trying to get control of my raging hard-on and my erratic heart. I’m not convinced the damn organ is ever going to settle down after coming so close to finally having Mia. So goddamn close.
After a few seconds, I follow after her, not wanting to give her too much time to retreat into herself, which is exactly what she’s done time and time again in our lives. It’s her coping mechanism.
I find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her head dropped into her hands. She’s wrapped a towel around her body and another around her hair, but the knowledge that I could have her naked in under a second isn’t doing anything to help the painful erection pressing against my pants. I’m just fucking glad I’m not wearing pants with a zipper.
“Mia?” I say gently, but stay near the bathroom. It’s a slippery slope I’m walking. Give her enough space that she can breathe, but not so much that she can run.
“I just need some time,” she whispers, but I know she’s crying even without seeing her face.
“No.”
She releases a sobbing breath but doesn’t bother arguing. Maybe she knows better, or maybe she just doesn’t have the energy.
“Tell me what happened, sugar.”
When she doesn’t answer, I close the distance between us and drop into a crouch in front of her.
“Talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” I gently tuck my fingers beneath her chin and pull her face up until she has no choice but to look at me. The blue of her eyes is dull from crying, the rims red and puffy, but she’s still so fucking beautiful it hurts.
She shakes her head. “I can’t.” She hiccups. “It’s mortifying.”
I give her a soft smile and lean forward, pressing my lips to hers ever so softly. The plush pillows are red from my rough treatment of them, but that only makes me want to take them harder. The sick part of me wants to mark her so no one ever touches her again, but as soon as I find myself thinking that way, I have to remind myself that men have been marking her for years against her will, and I’m not about to join them in that category. No way in hell.
“Did you know I almost came on the spot when I walked up to that door and saw you pleasuring yourself?” I whisper between us. “I was like a teenage boy watching fucking porn for the first time, almost blowing my load without so much as touching myself.”
Her eyes widen, and the most beautiful blush spreads across her cheeks and down her neck.
“And last night when you watched me get off, that’s the hardest I’ve ever fucking come in my life. It took like five minutes for the spots to fade from my vision.”
“You knew I was there?” she whispers, the pink deepening by the second.
“Yeah, Sugar, I knew.” I chuckle. “It was the fucking hottest thing I’d ever experienced, knowing you were watching me, up until this morning at least.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but quickly closes it again. I’ve rendered her speechless, and I can’t help but smirk.
“Tell me why you were crying.”
She immediately tries to drop her gaze, but I won’t let her. Her first instinct is always to run, but she has to realize I’m not always going to let her do that. There’s a time and place for space, but this is not it. She needs to start opening up to me, or she’s going to explode.
“Please, Mia.”
She releases a breath before searching my eyes for something. I don’t know what the hell she’s looking for, but she doesn’t seem to find it. Her sinfully pink tongue darts out, running over her lips in a nervous gesture. “I can’t come.” The words rush from her mouth, and she immediately tries to look away again and again, I don’t allow it.
“What do you mean you can’t come?” I ask, my brows tugging together in confusion. I mean, there are millions of women who can’t orgasm with a partner, probably just because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing or because he doesn’t care enough to do it properly, but I’m not sure how common it is for women to not be able to reach a release at all.
“I mean, I tried for hours last night and I couldn’t get there. The shower was just another failed attempt, and I’m so frustrated.”
Part of me is smug as fuck that my little show was what made her desperate for release, but then the guilt comes. She’s crying because of me. She’s frustrated because of me.
“Like I said, I’m broken, Ace. They broke me.” Her voice cracks and takes my heart right along with it. Her tears have always been my kryptonite, and nothing has changed. Each one that falls is another crack in my armor, and I have no idea how to ease her pain.
I close my eyes for a long moment, gathering myself. My falling apart will only make her feel worse, and that’s the last thing I want.
