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“Yes, I’m only sorry about…” she trails off.
I kiss her temple. “You’re sorry? About what, Carina?”
She sighs and shrugs. “You know… for being so…vocal… for making all of that noise…”
I frown down at her. “Noise?”
Carina nods. “I know it’s unseemly, that I shouldn’t have… it… it breaks your concentration and… and it’s so wanton of me,” she looks away in mortification, her angelic face flushing even more.
For all of five seconds, I'm stunned into silence, my mind reeling at her words and what they imply.
Unseemly?
Breaks my concentration?
Wanton?
What the fuck is this?!
I cup her face and move a little away from her to make her look at me.
“No, baby! What are you talking about? Who told you this bullshit? You can make as much noise as you want, sweetheart. The louder you get, the more I want you. I love every single one of your noises, I assure you. In fact, I have been trying to make you moan and cry since I got you into this bed, and the memory of every tiny whimper you uttered Saturday as we fucked against that wall went straight into the category of little things that kept me sane while I waited to get you in my arms again. Getting you to scream in pleasure is going to be my lifelong goal.”
I hug her back to me when I see she looks confused, and she's blinking back tears.
"Sorry…" she murmurs against my neck, and I enfold her even tighter in my arms, keeping her small nude body glued to mine.
I gather the sheet up and over us and gently kiss her lips. “No. You are marvelous, sweetheart, and have nothing to apologize for. There’s nothing to be sorry about, okay? Nothing… now try to get some sleep. We really need to talk in a bit.”
“Okay, Derek.”
She gets comfortable against me, using my chest as a pillow, and she yawns softly, making me smile a little then she closes her brilliant eyes.
As she sleeps peacefully, I think back on her words, and it doesn't take me long to realize who put such ideas in her head.
She was a very young girl, and he probably was her first.
I clench my fists at the thought, wishing I could completely obliterate the memory of that bastard from her brain and her soul.
I knew she had been hurt, but I never thought it was that bad.
What kind of man tells a young girl things like those?
Not arealone —of that, I am sure.
Instead of treasuring her and nurturing her, he smothered her and stifled her natural responses, making her feel guilty for them.
Probably because he isn’t even capable of really pleasing a woman.
Selfish bastard.
I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes, and something painful wraps around my heart at the thought of what life with him —everyaspectof her life with him— must have been for her.
I’m going back and forth between wanting to know it all to help her deal with it and wanting to close my eyes tightly shut to block the images and possibilities flashing in my brain.
I sigh, leaning back against my pillow and tightening my arms around her.
“What did he do to you, Carina? How can I help you forget?”
