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She hesitates, her breathing coming in hard and fast as she considers her options. Tears still fall against her cheeks, but some of the panic has diminished despite our current positions. She takes a breath and reaches up, grasping the iron bars behind the pillows.
I barely swallow the groan that claws its way up my throat at the sight and how she obeyed my command with little hesitation.
Once I get control of myself, I make quick work of wrapping my belt around her wrists and securing them to the headboard, taking extra care to make sure they’re not too tight.
“Okay?” I ask.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“You will do everything I say when I say it from here on out. The only exception to that is if you are afraid or you’re in more pain than you can handle. Do you understand?”
She nods against the pillows, her damp hair a wet halo on the pillow.
“Words, Mia. I need your words because I can’t risk missing a head movement.”
“I understand.”
“Good girl.” I brush my fingers across her cheek. “Here are the rules, Mia. I suggest you follow them or you will be punished.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but I shake my head slowly.
“You will not speak unless I ask you a question or you need to tell me to stop. You will not come without permission. You will not hesitate when I order you to do something. And you will keep your eyes on me at all times.”
Her brows tug together in confusion at the last one, and I brush my thumb over her pouty lips. “I don’t want to risk you falling into the past, and I think this will help with that.”
She captures her lip between her teeth as she takes in a stuttered breath, uncertainty flashing through her blue gaze.
Come on, sugar. Let me in.
“Okay.” The word falls from her lips so quietly I barely hear it, but it’s all the go-ahead I need.
I shuffle back down the bed and drag the sheet away from her body, uncovering every inch of creamy skin.
I suck in a breath and take my time looking her over. I’ve spent my whole adult life craving this woman, needing her. I’ve been desperate to taste her, to devour her, and now that the time is finally here, I’m not sure where to start.
My eyes lock on her stomach and the tops of her thighs, the little silver scars shining in the dim light. Before I can think better of it, I dip my head and press a kiss to the cigarette burn a few inches beneath her breasts. And then the slightly pinker scar beneath it. Over and over again, I press my lips to Mia’s stomach, silently reminding her that I will never see her as anything other than the woman I’ve loved for as long as I can remember.
“Ace,” she whimpers, and when I look up, tears are falling against her cheeks.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Mia.” Kiss. “Every single inch of you.” Kiss. “I’ll never not find you the most incredible woman on this earth.” Kiss. “And I will spend the rest of my life.” Kiss. “Making you see yourself the way I see you.” Kiss. Her skin beneath my lips is so fucking soft, and even when I run out of scars, I kiss every single piece of skin I can reach as she squirms beneath me.
By the time I allow my gaze to flick back to hers, the tears against her cheeks have dried, and she stares back at me with need.
I can smell her arousal, it’s so fucking thick in the air that I’ll be smelling her on the sheets long after they’re washed.
Slowly, I move down her body until I’m wedged between her thighs. The closer I come to her core, the more desperate I am for her, and although I want to tease her, I can’t. Depriving myself of her sweetness would be a cruel and unusual punishment.
The first swipe of my tongue through her soft folds drags a moan from both our chests, but the first taste isn’t enough. And neither is the second, or the third. And then I’m a man possessed, a starved man who can’t get enough of the woman tied up beneath him.
I waited my whole fucking life for this, and I’m going to savor every single second.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MIA
Inever thought I’d enjoy a man’s touch again.
I thought after the first time a man touched me against my will that I would forever be broken, that I would always dread the touch of the opposite sex.
