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Because I hate it.
I wish I could peel my own skin off my flesh.
It’s too terrible.
Too ugly.
Too real.
“I can’t bear to look at it. I don’t want to.” My sharp words are dry and grated. I wish I could cry them because maybe then my tears would take some of the pain with them.
His stare flicks up to mine. Hard and unflinching. It makes my toes curl and my chest strangle my insides. My arms wrap around me as he leans to the side and flicks the bedside lamp on.
The golden light is dim, but it’s enough to blaze bright in his eyes.
“Come here.”
Shaking my head, I take the smallest of shuffles away from him, but when he stands, I freeze. Terror pulses in my veins. I know what will happen. He’ll get his way and then realise that he can’t bear to look at me either. He’ll realise that he’s stuck with my scars as much as I am. A reminder of my stupidity and everything we lost that night.
“You’re wrong.” Standing over me, he brushes my short hair, tucking it behind my ears as he leans down to press a hard kiss to my lips. No tongue. No teeth. Only soft skin and hot flesh. “You should look at them and take power from every fucking inch. They’re a mark of your strength, precious girl.”
Spinning me around, he tucks my back to his front as he walks us to one of the mirrored walls. I know what he’s about to do. Every single cell of my being begs me to run.
My arms and legs scream at me to put space between us. But not only is his hold too strong to escape, but there’s an overwhelming sense of safety in his arms.
Christopher has always made me feel cherished and safe. He’s always been my refuge in a world where people are quicker to see your flaws than your attributes.
“Trust me.”
My heart stampedes out of sync in my chest, leaving me almost incapable of holding myself up. “Once you see—”
Our gazes meet in the mirror as he silences me with his thumb. I salivate at the saltiness of his skin as he presses my tongue down, to the well of my mouth.
“I intend on spending the rest of my life looking at you, and I’ll be damned if I let you hide from me any longer.”
His other hand slowly roves down my front, moulding to every dip and curve. Goose bumps break out over my skin. My breaths snag. Heat engulfs me from head to toe as his nails rake down one side of my hip past the lace hem of my silk baby-doll, and down to the middle of my fleshy thigh. My body vibrates in the shelter of his.
“It’s not any of this that matters,” he says, grabbing and squeezing the fleshy tops
of my thigh. With his thumb still in my mouth, he curls his arm around me until I’m truly imprisoned in his hold. Quivering at the gentle stroke of his fingertips over my temple, I have no choice but to suck on his thumb in order to swallow the spit threatening to drool from my mouth.
“It’s this that matters.” Christopher softly taps the side of my head. I’m so caught up in his taste and his heat…in the burning desire and reverence in his eyes, that I don’t notice he’s pulled up my nightie until he looks down. His hand bunches the loose silk over my thundering heart as he flattens it to my chest. “And this. Everything else, beautiful, is a shell. A shell I adore, but in no way does it define who you are to me.”
Tears fill my eyes as he continues holding me. His heart drums into my back as he scours my belly. There’s no gasp or shock. It’s like he’s seen me like this a million times before. As though nothing has changed. Pressing me tightly to him with his hand on my chest, like he’s keeping me together, his thumb continues to stroke over my tongue, my teeth, and my lips before slipping down to my throat with a caress of my jaw.
“You’re forever going to be the girl who brought me to my knees with a flutter of her lashes and the wickedness in her smile.” Looking back up, he searches my face. You’d think he’s trying to etch every part of my profile into his soul. “And one day when those lashes are almost gone and the wickedness becomes wisdom, I’m still going to worship that big and fierce heart I own. I’m going to live in that precious soul of yours. You and me, entwined in light years and history and forevers and eternities. Do you understand?”
I can’t breathe. My breath is robbed by his perfect words, and my heart aches as it pulls itself together. The blood rushing through my veins burns as the tears stream down my face.
With a nod, I swallow.
“Good.” He smiles.
In the mirror Christopher’s eyes glisten as he lets the silk slip back down my body before pushing the straps down my shoulders with scorching kisses and nibbles of my neck and collarbone. Guiding the thin, strings holding my nightie intact down my arms, he walks me closer to the mirror.
When the liquid peach fabric puddles at my feet, he braces my hands on the mirrored wall. Then without flair or finesse he pulls his T-shirt off. A large pad stretches over his left shoulder with the faintest speck of blood coming through. Heat turns to ice, and as I try to turn to inspect his wound for myself, he holds me right where he wants me.
“I’m fine,” he grunts dismissively as he pushes his joggers down and shucks them off messily.
