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It’s time she knows how I feel about her. Not because I’m afraid I’ll not have the chance again, but rather, because I want to.
“I love you so fucking much, I can scarcely breathe at times. And that scares me. I’ve never loved anyone before because my entire life, I was surrounded by hate. But that changed…the day I met you.”
The fire behind her eyes fades, and her walls begin to crumble.
“I was the one who took Brody’s life, not you, but ya need to forgive yerself because the hate ya feel, it’ll eat ya up inside, and sooner or later, y’ll wish ya were dead too.
“It’s okay to feel bad that he’s dead. I’d be worried if ya didn’t. Yer vulnerability makes ye strong. It makes ya human—my human. But his death, it’s on me. And I need ya to forgive me for that.”
“Forgive you?” she says in a whisper.
“Aye. If ya want forever, then ya need to be okay with the fact that the man ye love was the man who killed yer father. You need to forgive me. I mean truly forgive me, and then you’ll need to forgive yerself for lovin’ me.”
Her chest rises and falls slowly as she processes what I just said.
“If ya need time, I understand. I—”
She steps forward, reaching for my hand and pressing it over her heart. “I don’t need time. I just need you. I’ll always need you. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I’ll always want you. I forgive you. And I love you too.”
And just like that, the world becomes whole once more.
“I’m sorry for lashing out,” she softly says. “I just…it was a lot seeing that. I thought I’d be okay with it, and I am. I just…”
“I understand,” I gently interject, cupping her cheek. “There’s no need to explain. Death is never an easy thing.”
“And you saw your mother murdered when you were five years old. I can’t imagine what that would have been like, but after tonight, I get it. I understand why you need vengeance. Not just for your mom but for yourself as well.”
To hear those words appeases me of some guilt. It makes me feel like maybe I’m not such a monster, after all.
Babydoll reaches for my hands and examines them closely. “These hands,” she whispers, “they’ve killed.”
“They have. And they’ll kill again.”
“But they’ve also healed,” she reasons. “They’ve also shown kindness. And love.”
I’m her prisoner as she lifts up her ballooned skirt with my hand still in hers and places my hand over the outside of her underwear. I hiss when I feel the thin silk is damp with her arousal. She coaxes me to rub her slowly.
“I didn’t mean it,” she says, locking eyes with me as I begin rubbing circles over her pussy. “I would never be with anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”
Her comment has me thinking about Rory. I should feel a sliver of guilt for being here, with Cami this way, but I don’t.
“I don’t want anyone else either. Yer my forever, Camilla. I love you.”
A contented cry leaves her as she stands on her toes and presses her lips to mine. Our walls have been obliterated, and I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
Love is a battlefield, and we’re fighting unarmed.
Babydoll arches into my touch, begging for more, and more I give when I slip my hand into her underwear and sink two fingers into her pussy. She whimpers into my mouth, circling my tongue with hers.
I begin playing with her, her body always so ready for me. It’s a turn-on to know she wants me as much as I want her.
When she gets my belt and zipper undone, she slips her hand into my trousers, humming when she feels my erection. As I delve in deeper, faster, Babydoll takes my shaft into her hand and begins to stroke me up and down.
I almost come because it feels so fucking good.
I forget we’re in an abandoned manor, covered in blood, with our friends waiting outside for us. I forget everything but this. Nothing else matters but her.
Removing my fingers from her pussy, I tear off her underwear with a sharp tug, kick off my trousers, and lift her up quickly before she can protest. She knows what I want as she adjusts herself over my aching cock and slowly rubs herself over me as I slam her back against the wall.
