When I feel him behind me, I decide I can’t take it anymore.
“You’re afraid of me,” I say, softly.
His head snaps around. “Never,” he growls.
I turn to study him, appalled to feel the burning in my eyes. “Then why won’t you come closer?” I gesture to the space he’s carefully keeping between us.
I can see his throat working. “I’m trying to give you what you need.”
My breath catches in my lungs. “You think I’m broken now,” I whisper. “So you’re giving me space.”
“I think you need whateveryouneed,” he says, gently. “And if that’s space, I’ll give you an ocean of it. If it’s silence, I’ll sit here with you. If you need to rage, I’ll throw a shield around this room and receive it.”
I let his words sink in. He really would. He’d put a shield between us and the outside world and let me scream and rage and physically work through the feelings inside of me. I move towards him.
“You haven’t touched me. Not once since… Why?”
His jaw tightens, so tightly I fear his teeth will shatter. “Ash…”
“Do I disgust you that much?” I pause, fighting for the words to finish, to give voice to the most painful of them. “I’m nottainted!”
I realize I’m panting.
“I don’t want to be coddled. I want tofeel.I want to remember to want something, someone, and to take them.To choose.”
Flint exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years.
Haltingly, he finally speaks. “You’re not tainted. You’re perfect.”
“Then why?”
He closes his eyes, the pain obvious on his face.
“I couldn’t bear the idea that… you’d be with me… and even for a second, see or think of…him.”
“No!” I object sharply. I draw a deep breath and try to calm down, so my words will be clear. “No. Brett — what he’s tried to do — was an abomination. He hasnothingto do with us. With this.”
“But your nightmares -”
“Are just that. Nightmares. Not. Real.”
I lift a hand and brush the curls away from his brow.
“He has no place here. Not with us.”
He brushes a thumb against my cheek, searching my eyes.
“You’re in control here,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “This is your space, your power. Take it back.”
He’s right. This sanctuary of words and whispers is mine. It’s ours.
I feel a surge of confidence, a spark ignited by his words. I reach out, my hands finding the buttons on his shirt. I begin to undo them slowly, letting my fingers graze the warm skin beneath. I hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t move, letting me set the pace.
With each button, I feel more empowered. I push the shirt open, revealing the hard plains of his chest, the swirls of ink, and lean in to press a kiss to his collarbone. Flint’s hands find my hips, but he doesn’t press or pull. He simply holds me there, his touch steady and supportive.
My hands slide down his torso, exploring. I unbuckle the belt at his waist, the leather sliding through the loops with barely a whisper. Flint’s breath is coming fasternow, his chest rising and falling, but he remains still, allowing me to take the lead. I unzip his pants, the sound loud in the quiet of the storeroom. My heart is racing when I free him from his clothing, wrapping my fingers around the hard length of him. Flint groans, a sound of pleasure, his head dropping back against the books behind him. The sound sends a thrill through me. I stroke him gently, feeling him grow impossibly harder in my hand.
I sink to my knees and his head snaps up, his eyes meeting mine. His hands find my shoulders, his touch light, almost questioning. I nod, giving him permission, and his fingers run through my hair. I lean forward, my lips brushing against the tip of his cock. Flint’s breath catches and I smile, slow and knowing. I take him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around his sensitive head. His hips buck slightly, a reflexive movement, and I hum in approval, taking him deeper.
