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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
DOC
Ideal with vulnerable women fairly regularly, and even though their trauma is always terrible, I have a level of separation from it.
That’s not the case with Isla.
Her pain is my pain.
Her sadness is my sadness.
And her tears are like a knife slicing through my cold, dead heart.
She tries to warn them off, but the mixture of exhaustion and pain are winning out, and she’s powerless to stop them from falling against her soft cheeks.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind about any of it. She needs to learn there are consequences for her actions, and I’m at the end of my tether.
If that means I get the added benefit of her sleeping naked in my arms every night, that’s a perk I’m going to enjoy.
“We’ll talk more in the morning.” I lift the covers over her body and fight the urge to drag them right off again.
Having Isla’s tight little body on display is its own kind of torture, and I doubt my cock will be anything but hard now that I know what she’s got under her clothes.
“Doc,” she whispers, and the pain in her voice makes me pause. “Thank you for tonight.”
I stare at her for a few moments before reaching over to brush the tears from her cheeks. “I’m going to get you something for your head, and then we’ll go to sleep.”
Isla nods and allows her eyes to drift closed.
I move through the apartment to where I dumped my medical bag by the front door when I came home tonight. The old bag has seen better days, but I can’t bring myself to part with it. Not when it was the only thing I kept that Clarissa gave me.
Rummaging through the meds I keep in the side pocket, I grab a packet of painkillers and move into the kitchen for a bottle of water.
By the time I make it back to the bedroom, Isla has rolled onto her side, and a gentle snore fills the room that I can’t help but smile at. She might kick and scream and fight like a pissed-off kitten when she’s awake, but I know the second I slip between the sheets beside her, she’ll curl into me like I’m her safe place.
And those are my favorite moments of the day.
Because little by little, she’s becoming that place to me. It’s irrelevant that we haven’t spoken in a week. It doesn’t seem to matter that this entire marriage is a sham. Nothing matters when she’s wrapped up in my arms and everything clicks into place.
I perch on the edge of the bed and brush my fingers through her hair. Although I’ve held her every night she’s been here, I haven’t given myself time to really touch her. To feel her softness beneath my fingers, to appreciate every freckle on her cheeks, but that’s about to change.
Everything is about to change.
“Isla,” I say quietly so I don’t startle her.
She rolls slightly, her half-lidded eyes meeting mine and a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Fuck. That smile. Shecould be throwing the biggest tantrum right now, but instead she’s put herself in my hands, trusting me to take care of her.
And it’s now that I realize I always will.
There’s nothing I won’t do to keep my spitfire safe. Even if she hates me for it.
“Take these and you can go back to sleep.”
I help her take a sip of water before pressing the pills against her lips, my eyes glued to her delicate neck when she swallows them. I barely swallow down the groan when the image of my cock lodged down her throat and my hand wrapped around her neck as I fuck her face relentlessly overcomes me.
Jesus. I need a cold shower.
“Thanks.”
