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“I’m here, princess,” I said and held on to her tighter.
The year without her felt even more painful now that she was back in my arms. I wouldn’t let her go again. Never again.If someone took her away from me now, I would set the world on fire and spit on the ashes.
She pulled back, trying to get a look at me. Her eyes traveled from the points of my shoes to the top of my head. I saw the shift in her eyes, the way she was trying to piece together the Finley she knew from Murdoch Home to the man standing in front of her.
I’d traded the straitjacket for a black dress shirt and slacks. The clothes were uncomfortable, very different from the loose clothing they forced me to wear for the past eight years. The fitted dress shirt lay snugly on my chest, my muscles and build shining through. I liked having her eyes on me. When she noticed me watching her, she quickly turned away, trying to focus on something else, and failing.
I chuckled, and she took that as her cue to look around. She walked from the couch to the windows, placing her hands on the glass and looking out, awestricken.
“Where are we? What is all this?” she asked, turning around and walking to the kitchen area.
“This is my place, well, a place I share with two other runners.
“Runners?” Her eyes widened.
My little Barbie was so naïve to the dark world outside those windows.
“Yeah.” I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked over to her. “I dropped out of high school sophomore year and got in with a big drug dealer here in the city. He liked my style and brought me in.”
Watching her digest my words was the fucking cutest. Although my little princess was naïve to the world, she was fucking smart, and could figure things out easily.
“Not that style.” She pointed to my fresh look, followed by a sweet giggle.
Fucking hell, how did I survive without her?
I walked over to her, her scent like a dream filling my lungs. “My smart girl.”
Even after all this time, inhaling her scent sent me into a frenzy. I stood behind her and thought back to the morning of the panel meeting. After I left Dr. Harkness’s office, I was brought before the five panelists who would determine if I could leave Murdoch Home. When all the panelists raised their hand in agreement to dismiss me from the place, I left without looking back.
With every passing moment, my hatred for that place grew stronger. Eight long years I spent trapped in its suffocating grasp. My heart ached for Barbie, the only place that ever felt like home to me.
“Can I?” she asked, pulling away from me as she eyed the large loft.
I let go, and watched with a close eye as she wandered. For every three steps she took, I took one as I closed in on her. Her slender, soft fingers grazed the furniture as she ran from one room to the next. Her stride slowed and grew cautious as she approached a door near the end of the hall. Her chest rose and fell with a deep inhale, the scent of my cologne pulling her over the threshold. She stood in the middle of my room and made a beeline for the large bed in the middle. I closed and lock the door behind me, and she raised her legs, her fingers moving over the satin between her sweet thighs.
“Tell me who that tight little cunt belongs to.” I slid my tongue out, and let drool coat my tatted fingers.
She opened for me and pulled her panties to the side. “My savior’s cunt.”
I felt myself losing all control. My body ached with a primal desire to ravage my little Barbie, to dominate her until she begged for mercy. My tongue traced a fiery path along her inner thigh, igniting moans of pleasure from her lips. But then, like a switch being flipped, I stopped abruptly, and my jaw clenched at her sharp intake of breath.
Her fear was palpable, like a storm brewing in her coffee-colored eyes. And she had every right to be afraid, because I was going to find the sick bastard who hurt her, rip off his balls and shove them down his throat until he choked on them.
“Fin?” Her timid voice filled the room.
“Yes, darlin?”
I stood and extended my hand. She closed her legs and followed me out of my bedroom. I handed Barbie a glass of water as she sat on the marble kitchen island, her legs dangling below. I watched as she downed the water, never coming up for air. Without thinking, I brought my lips to her throat and bit down gently.
She gasped. “What was that?”
I just shrugged. “How else was I supposed to say I suddenly felt like marking you?”
I ignored her gasps of protestand smiled, wrapping my arms around her torso and resting my head on her lap. She causally brought her hand to my head and stroked my hair. I closed my eyes, reeling in the feel of her.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I lifted my hand and leaned my face close to hers.
