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I answered honestly. “I can’t believe you’re real.”
She freely stretched her arms above and reached for the ceiling, letting her hips move against mine. As her arms came down, she pointed at them. “Why do my arms do that when touching you like this?” She gestured to our hips.
I studied the goosebumps all over her skin, realizing this sultry woman knew very little about her body. “While… you were with one of the men you’ve had sex with—”
“Only two.”
I kept vomit from spewing, now knowing Pops was right. Da had had sex with his daughter. I swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, um… were you ever, uh, aroused?”
Her brows bunched. “Not faking it like the movies?”
I couldn’t stop my wince. “Movies?”
“The mean sex videos.”
Please don’t puke. Please don’t puke. “Were you filmed, babe?”
“Me? No. But I saw them filming. And girls getting in trouble when they didn’t ‘act’ like they were enjoying it.”
It was terrible to sigh with relief, that there are women out there in need of help, but knowing sick men were watching my woman being raped for their pleasure was going to make me explode. If I were to ever get the chance to rescue more victims, I would, but right now, I had to focus on Elle.
"Did... you get in trouble… or need to, umm, fake anything?”
She stared out the window to her right. “With Da… he didn’t care that it hurt, so no.” She exhaled. “With Lorenzo, yes, I faked pain when in a bed.”
My body broke into a sweat that came straight from my heart.
“As I said, he likes us to scream.” She sighed, long and hard. “I didn’t have to fake any pain when being strung up or receiving lashes on my back.”
I closed my eyes. Breathe. Breathe.
“Lynx?”
“Yeah, babe.”
“Do you not want the truth?”
I opened my eyes. “Always. It’s just… I hurt when you hurt. And that man hurt you.”
Long fingers touched my face, ever so gently. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
The fact that her past never affected my need for her was such a blessing. We could go from such a terrible conversation to a desirable moment.
“I would love that.”
Slowly, she leaned forward, then pressed her lips to mine. When her mouth opened and her tongue touched mine, my eyes rolled back in my head. She tasted that good.
Yet, nothing prepared me for her teeth abruptly taking hold of my upper lip, forcing me to open my eyes.
A glare was waiting for me. This one was manic again.
Why was she angry? The simple answer to that complicated question was that Elle had many triggers we would have to overcome. Until then, they were easy to press. And I seemed to be their master, even more than my pops.
Slap! I smacked her hip in warning for having me in her bite.
Since that only got her teeth tightening, informing me I was a complete fool, I chose a different approach. Tenderly, my tongue swiped out and licked her mouth.
The fire in her eyes began to simmer. Teeth gave me a little reprieve.
