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Abel sucks in a breath, then lets out a sob.
Chapter Eleven
Abel
Idon’tmeantocry. Because there’s nothingwrong. It’s the opposite. That was the most intense experience of my life. I never knew I could feel so consumed by somebody. So close to them. So in tuned with someone. It’s one of the things you read about in romance novels. Something that will never happen to real people. But as a real person it’s happening to, it’s overwhelming. Tears seem to be the only way I can work out all this emotion I’m feeling. But I need to stop crying or Sav will think he hurt me.
Yep, it’s exactly what he thinks. Savage gathers me in his arms and rolls on his side, pulling me close to his body. My come is drying on us, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Neither do I. I like being this close to him. He smells and feels so good. I don’t want him to let me go.
He murmurs apologies to me, brushing back my curls and kissing my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Abel. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Don’t cry, please. I won’t do it again, I swear.”
I shake my head vigorously and try to get myself under control to tell him how I’m feeling, when even I don’t know all the words. “No. You didn’t …” I pause to take several deep breaths to calm myself down. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Sav.”
“I hurt you. I was rough with you. I’m sorry.”
Making a frustrated noise, I push against his chest. “I’m going to turn the light on. Shelve your hang-ups before I do.” That was fucked up and I know it. I’ll apologize for that later. I have a feeling why he didn’t want them on. We can talk about that when I’m done talking to him, but he needs to see my face so he’ll know he didn’t hurt me at all. Nothing he did was painful. He prepped me so well, I barely felt him entering me, which is a major feat because Savage stretches my mouth to the limits. I thought for sure he would tear me up. But he was so good at making sure I was ready for him. Better than I thought my first time would be.
He blows out a rough breath and drops his arms from around me. “Okay, baby.”
Sliding over, I click the light on and blink at the sudden brightness. Savage has an arm thrown over his eyes and I scoot back and move it. I look down at him and he reaches up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I sniffle and lean into his fingers, wrapping my hand around his wrist.
After my tears have dried and my face is clean, I tell him, “I’m not in pain, Savage.” I adjust myself, then feel a twinge that has me jumping. Face red, I amend my statement. “Okay, it hurts a bitnow, but you didn’t hurt me. I’m sure everyone that gets fucked in the ass has some pain after.” He tries to cover his laughter, but it comes out. He cuts it off quickly though and still looks concerned for me. “I’m feeling … overwhelmed, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong, Sav. You made my first time the best experience of my life. I heard so many horror stories about painful and terrible first times. I didn’t experience any of that. Not at all.” I kiss him lightly on the lips. “You were perfect. That was perfect. Don’t take that away from me.”
He nods and pulls me back down to him. “I’m glad you had a good first time, baby. I wanted to make sure you felt good.”
“Oh, I did. Very good. If my ass didn’t hurt, I’d want to do it again.” His chuckle is full of relief. I’m glad I could ease him. If I had anything to compare it to, I’m sure sex with Savage would have been the best that I had. “I’m sorry about what I said just then. About your hang-ups. What you feel … I shouldn’t have said it. It was rude.”
“A little but it doesn’t make it any less true.” Ugh, why is he so dismissive of it? Makes me feel even worse. How he feels is valid and I shouldn’t have said it. I blame my emotions, but I’ll do better. “Let me clean you up. You’re a bit of a mess.” He looks at me and smiles, and my heart fucking melts. Savage is so fucking beautiful. The tragic thing is he doesn’t even know it. I really hate whoever made him feel like he isn’t. I can only imagine how intense our fucking would have been if I could have seen him. I’m pissed at whoever took that away from me.
I nod, moving out of his arms to sit up. Watching Savage walk to the bathroom is its own treat, and I admire the muscles of his back, his tight ass, and his thick legs. I am a lucky, lucky man.
He comes back with his chest and cock clean and I suck in a breath. The light dusting of hair covering his hard body makes my mouth water. I want to kiss and lick him all over. His scars just enhance what a work of art he is. I notice that the scars go all the way down, past his hip and down to his knee. What happened to him?
Savage smirks at me when he sees how I’m ogling his body. “You keep looking at me like that, I’ll make you do something about my dick getting hard.”
“Not the threat you think it is, Mr. Benavelli.” He barks a laugh and cleans my chest and cock, then flips me onto my stomach and spreads my cheeks to clean my hole of lube. “Thank you,” I murmur, a bit embarrassed that he just stared at my opening.
He tosses the cloth on the nightstand. “You’re welcome.” He climbs over me and settles on his back, hands behind his head.
I fiddle with my hands, scared that he’ll turn me down. “Sav?” He smiles softly at me and raises an eyebrow. “Can I stay with you tonight? I’m still feeling a bit … weird.” It’s like I have too many feelings fighting for dominance in my chest and I don’t know what they are or how to let them out. If I go back to my room, I’ll probably end up crying myself to sleep, not knowing why I’m feeling so strange. If I have Savage near me, his body heat and his scent, I’m sure I’ll feel better.
He nods and moves an arm from behind his head, holding it out to me. I clamber over to him, sinking onto his chest with a sigh. Yeah, this is exactly what I need. Him. His touch. His smell. His warmth.
Rubbing my hand over his chest, my fingers come in contact with his scars, and he stills. God, Ihatehow they make him feel. He’s perfect with or without them. How can I convince him of that? I keep rubbing him, giving them all the love they deserve, and he gradually relaxes again. They feel a little weird under my fingers, smooth, hot and raised compared to his unmarred skin that’s warm and prickled with hair. But they don’t feel bad … because they’re a part of him.
Since he probably won’t freely tell me where they came from, I decide to ask. “Can you tell me what happened?” I trace my fingers over the scars on his chest, hoping I’m not crossing a line. Now that I’m this close, I can see it’s not two scars as I originally thought, but three. They’re about half an inch wide, with a fraction of space between them. Almost like he was scratched by a lion or tiger.
He moves his arm from around me and tucks it back behind his head and I feel cold. I go to move off him, but he grabs my shoulder and I stay. Maybe he needs to feel a bit disconnected to tell me? I don’t question it and sink into him, hearing his heartbeat under me. He tucks his arm behind his head again and tells his story.
“It happened seven years ago. My father had just made a sale, and I sat in on the meeting since he was with a new client. He’d been grooming me to take over since I was a kid, but rarely let me meet new clients. It was a pretty bad storm when me, Quin, and my other bodyguard, Ted, left the meeting location.” I tense, thinking of the storm that killed my parents. He doesn’t seem to notice, but that’s probably because he’s being dragged back to his own personal hell. “None of us noticed we were being followed. I’m sure they planned to take me out first, then my dad, so there would be no one to take over the operation and our territory would be fair game. Anyway, by the time Ted noticed them, it was too late. They started shooting, and he was killed instantly. I got grazed,”—he motions to a spot on his arm—“and Quin was hit in the chest. I returned fire, but there were too many of them. Quin tried to get us out of there as quickly as he could, but SUVs are big and bulky and aren’t the ideal getaway vehicles.
“He managed to lose them, but after a while, Quin lost consciousness because he was losing too much blood. The car drifted off the road, rolled a few times, then tumbled down an embankment. It landed on its roof and slid for about twenty-five feet before it smashed up against a tree.” He’s telling me all this in a monotone, but how his body is tensing, I know he’s remembering how awful it was.
He draws in a deep breath, then moves his arm back around me. I move as close as I can get, throwing a leg over him for good measure. He chuckles and kisses my hair. “The car was mangled. I didn’t have my seatbelt on and was partially ejected. Quin was still belted in, so he stayed slumped in the driver’s seat, unhurt by the accident itself. It’s really a wonder I survived. The way some of the metal was contorted from how we rolled and slid, it already did damage to my face and some of my chest when I was ejected. I would have stayed there and waited for my father and Michael, who rode with my dad, to come along, but then I smelled the gas. I didn’t know if there was fire nearby because of the accident, but I knew I needed to get me and Quin out of there.”
He kisses my head when I gasp. “That must have been awful,” I say thickly, on the verge of tears. He’s fine now, but it had to be terrible.
“It was. Anyway, when I smelled the fuel, I knew I had to do something. There was just enough space to get through the opening, but not without hurting myself further. I had barely felt when I was ejected because of all the adrenaline. I knew I had to move fast, so I just pulled myself through with little regard for technique, ripping my clothes more and causing more wounds. The twisted metal was shaped like …”—he gestures down his body and I wrap myself around him, letting the tears fall. He huffs a breath but doesn’t chastise me for feeling sorry for him. “After I was free, I didn’t pay any mind to my wounds or shredded clothing. I dragged Quin out when I got free and got us down the road enough that I wouldn’t fear an explosion, even though I was hurting badly. I called my dad, and he got us to the family doctor. He did what he could, but he couldn’t take these away.” He rubs along his face, down his chest, then threads his fingers with mine.
