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His lips curl up into a smile, but there’s fury in his eyes. “I’m going to get naked. I’m going to show you every scar on my body, and I’ll tell you all about them. I’m not going to make you get undressed. Someone clearly has treated you like property. Worse than property. They’ve taken and taken from you, and I never want to do that to you. Between us, everything will be your choice. You never have to feel like you have to do something. Do you understand me? You’ll only ever do what you want.”
Gods damn it. “Okay,” I whisper.
Rayne stands back from me and pulls his black t-shirt off, dropping it to the floor. I had expected this godlike man to be muscular, but somehow, to also be perfect. It surprises me when I see the scars all over his body. I gravitate toward him, like we’re magnetically charged, and run my fingers along one particularly bad scar on his shoulder.
“How did you get this?”
He smiles. “That was actually from a beast down here. He caught me off-guard. And then, because I couldn’t let anyone know what I’d done, I stitched it up myself. Not well.”
“And this one?” I point to a smaller one on his arm.
This time, he laughs. “My best friends and I used to practice our swordplay a lot. Usually, I was the one to accidentally leave a few scars for them, but Dwade managed that one on me.”
Unable to help myself, I lean down and kiss it. “I like your scars. I feel like they all have a story, and they’re helping me learn about you.”
His gaze is kind as he reaches for the button on his pants. And then, he draws his boots, socks, and pants off, standing only in his dark boxers. I see more scars, all over his body, but my feelings remain the same.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you,” he whispers.
And I realize that he thinks that now, but will he think that when he sees me?Reallysees me? For some reason, I need to know. I need to see the look on his face and know if he can accept this about me too.
I reach for the hem of my shirt and slowly pull it off and over my head. Then, taking a deep breath, I throw the dress on top of his clothes, then follow with my pants. Forcing my gaze to meet his, I’m surprised when I see tears in his eyes.
“Is it that bad?” I ask.
He’s there in an instant, pulling me into his arms. His voice comes low into my ear. “The Bloodmores aren’t like the other light fae. We don’t tolerate anyone hurting the people we love. Before the week is out, I swear that your stepfather will drown in his own blood.”
I shiver, but only cling tighter to him. Can this man really kill a monster like my stepfather?
And maybe I have some dark fae in me, because I hope so.
He draws back from me, and then I’m in his arms. He carries me to the bed, lays me down more gently than I ever imagined a man as big as him could, and then he curls up behind me, covering me with a blanket against the chill.
I swear, I’ve never felt safer. Never in all my life.
When I turn to tell him as much, his breath comes out sharply. “Why are you crying? Did I scare you? Did I hurt you?”
I brush my cheek and find moisture. “No. I--I’ve just never felt safe like this. Like I’ve found a real home.”
He begins to wipe my tears and whispers, “You’ll always be home in my arms.”
When he kisses away my tears, I lean into him, glorying in this feeling. I stroke my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, memorizing every scar, every line, every part of him. Our lips meet, and I know he’d meant it to be a soft kiss, but I deepen it instantly. I don’t just want his comfort.
I want him.
My tongue tangles into his mouth, and he groans as I rub myself against him. I want to reach for those tiny boxers of his and draw them down, to see all of him, but his hands catch mine, and he pulls back.
“If we don’t stop…” He shudders.
“I don’t want to stop,” I tell him, my voice husky.
He shakes his head. “I’ll hurt you. And I will never willingly hurt you.”
His words are perfect.
I push him onto his back and smile. “Then, allow me?”
