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The comforting pressure against her back combined with the soft fragrance of lavender and chamomile was a treat to her senses as she roused from slumber. Without even needing to open her eyes, there was one thing instantly recognisable as missing. Miles. The dip beside her in the bed, the invigorating scent of his shampoo and body wash were only present in echoes, whispers against his cold pillow and the soft texture of the weighted blanket.
Ivy stretched slowly, feeling the delicious ache of her muscles as she spread out, her fingertips briefly tracing across the cold side of the bed, trying to gauge how long he’d been absent.
Her eyes opened slowly, confirming what her senses had already told her. The pillow was indented near her side of the bed, but he was gone. He always lay in the middle, arms wrapped around her even on the warmest of nights. She’d spent years imagining how it would feel to fall asleep wrapped in his arms. It was everything her mind had promised and more.
His arms were sanctuary. His arms were home, and she knew from the moment her heart chose him, that no other would suffice. It was always him. It would always be him.
Turning over, she lifted her hand to the small night light, checking for the millionth time the ring on her finger was real, that she hadn’t just sunk into a world of fantasy.
There were days she still felt like this was an illusion, that her owner had finally broken her mind and she’d created this perfect little world to live out the rest of her days, while he did whatever he wanted with the empty husk she’d left behind.
There were nights she’d wake in a panic, not knowing where she was as nightmares chased away serenity, convincing her their world was real and this a facsimile. But even if that was true, she’d take a fake life like this over the one she’d left behind.
Miles had fitted the night light when it became apparent the dark was a constant trigger. Even the apartment had sensor-activated lights, so if she walked anywhere during the night they’d light her way, keeping her safe, surrounding her in a protective bubble.
Sliding from the bed, she winced as her abs protested after the workout they got yesterday. Her face flushed, remembering how she lost herself in the throes of orgasms. There was no way she looked even remotely attractive, strapped on that Sybian, screaming in tongues as each orgasm only made her more sensitive. Somehow, she’d eventually fought back enough that Penny could crest. But that woman’s ass must have been as sore as her body was.
Burning heat spread through her, protesting the slight stretch needed to reach her dressing gown from the hook on the wall near the bed, sliding the silken fabric over herself and securing the tie she tiptoed barefoot from the bedroom, wondering if she’d even thanked Miles, Devon, and Penny through her exhaustion.
She only vaguely remembered the food arriving, she was pretty certain she must have eaten, but the memory evaded her, as did the one of how she came to be in bed.
Slipping through the door, she let her fingers trace the new wooden dado rails, the smooth, polished surface releasing the subtle fragrance of lavender beeswax as her fingertips glided over it.
Miles’ deep voice echoed from the study, his laugh instantly forcing a wave of happiness to wash over her.
“Well, what can I say? That’s why Ivy had an IUD. We’re nowhere near ready for kids. I mean, Sparky, you have to wrap—oh you wanted kids?” Miles’ voice was using that special tone reserved for teasing. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t have your hairline.” Ivy could hear Sparky laughing through his light-humoured profanity echoing from the handset even from her place at the door.
A thrill of joy fluttered in her chest realising what they were talking about. A few years ago, Sparky’s partner had miscarried for the second time. It had been hard on everyone, their grief was shared, their pain carried by all. They’d decided to wait before trying again, so this news was fantastic. It didn’t mean he got away without Miles teasing him though.
She’d never seen anyone with the kind of relationship Miles shared with his ex-army buddies. They were comrades, allies, friends, and each other’s biggest advocates. There was nothing any of them wouldn’t do for another.
She owed those guys and gals her life. They’d found her, mounted a mini-ocean rescue, and erased her monster from existence. Mostly. He still existed in the dark corners of her mind. It was just he was taking up less and less space.
Debbie must be over the moon. She knew they’d been talking about trying again. She was so happy for them. But Miles was right, the two of them were a long way from children.
A shudder of dread rippled through her.
“I can’t wait to see your belly swollen with my child.” The phantom voice echoed through her mind, her throat burning with bile as the feeling of helplessness and violation came flooding back. Owner had used her repeatedly, leaving his disgusting seed inside her almost every chance he had. When her periods came, her punishments would be brutal, but nothing could steal the relief of knowing she wasn’t carrying that monster’s baby.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hands wringing before her. This was about Debbie and Sparky. Her monster and darkness had no place here. She was happy for them. She really was. Children were precious, but she was relieved Miles didn’t want any, yet. She was certain it would be the only thing he could ask of her she wouldn’t be able to deliver. Whenever she even thought about it, she heard her owner’s voice, felt his bruising grip.
Her hand gripped the door frame as images assailed her. With a deep breath she let her gaze focus on Miles. Anchored herself to his presence. He was teasing Sparky, the glitter in his pine cone coloured eyes shining brighter with his mirth. He’d pushed his laptop aside, dragging his tin of soda before him across the large walnut desk. The surface had been marred, lightened with stains and spills during Miles’ own spiral into darkness.
He’d been going to get it revarnished but decided the imperfections on the desk only served to remind him how far he’d fallen. It reminded him of his lessons. Reminded him of his strengths and weaknesses. Much like Ivy’s scars reminded her.
As if feeling her eyes upon him, Miles glanced up, his face, already filled with a happiness that somehow seemed to glow brighter when his eyes met hers. God, that smile could stop her heart. That look, right there, was the reason she could look at herself in the mirror without sinking back into the dark pit of self-loathing.
He looked at her with love and adoration, like she was the most precious thing he had, like he couldn’t believe she was really his. The way he looked at her made her feel like a goddess, like a peacock amongst crows.
After seeing her pictures splattered across the paper she hadn’t been able to look herself in the mirror for months, but it was hard to hold on to such self-loathing when someone looked at her the way he did. While she was nowhere near where she had been before seeing those images, she was doing better.
Miles motioned her over, pulling her onto his lap playfully. She breathed him in. Her sanctuary. Her home. Her heart and soul.
He pressed the speaker on his phone, placing it on the table to bury his hands in her hair, bringing his lips to hers in an innocent kiss. But nothing stayed innocent when they were together. The soft brush of his lips against hers became harder, increasing in pressure as his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, requesting entry. He tasted of Pepsi and cinnamon. The perfect combination. In fact, she had a good mind to write to the company and suggest this new flavour. The only thing was, they’d never recreate the perfection of the taste from his lips.
“Oh God, Tails! You two are at it again aren’t you?” Ivy pulled back, chuckling, her face flaming with heat as she looked away bashfully, as if caught in an overbearing parent’s gaze. Her eyes skimmed the rest of the table to find the murdered remains of a half-picked-apart cinnamon roll. She snatched it from the plate, popping the small morsel into her mouth with an appreciative groan. “Really guys, I can hear everything.”
“Don’t mind us. Ivy’s just eating.” Miles’ fingers, slid underneath the fabric of the dressing gown, his fingertips softly teasing her thighs, working in slow teasing motions, sneaking higher and higher, mischief in his eyes.
