Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
The scent of cigarette smoke threads through Dane’s comforting cedarwood smell, but I continue as though compelled. The truth is drawn from my soul like poison.
“He pushed me up against the bricks, and I didn’t fight him. I just…let him do it. And I…” My throat closes, and nausea rolls through me. “I had my first orgasm.”
Dane’s hand stills in my hair again. He’s rigid around me, his entire, powerful body coiled tight.
“Later that summer, I saw him at a house party.” I’m no longer connected to my body. I’m just a voice, floating around us. “I knew he’d do it again. I knew. And I let it happen anyway. It felt good. So, it happened again a few weeks later.” Another party, another shameful night of vicious pleasure. “And again.”
“Where is he?”
It takes me a moment to work out that the inhuman snarl came from Dane.
“He’s dead.” My voice remains disturbingly flat. “He decided to drive drunk after the last party. He never made it home.”
Dane’s fingers bite into my skin for a bruising moment, and the small flare of pain calls me back to reality. I blink and focus on his face. It’s carved in lines of rage, and his green eyes blaze with fury.
“So many times, I wished he was dead,” I confess on a strained whisper. “That’s why I became so depressed that I couldn’t get out of bed. I knew that the only way it would stop was if he was gone for good. Because I kept letting it happen. I think part of me wanted it to happen. And then he was dead, and it was like it was my fault.”
“Nothing he did was your fault,” Dane growls.
I shake my head. “I liked it. You’ve seen how I am. You know now.”
His eyes flash, and a shadow ticks at his jaw. “I am nothing like him. That’s not how it is between us.”
I shrink in his arms. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I know you would never hurt me like that. Everything we do is consensual. I trust you. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.”
He captures my face in his hands, holding me like I’m his most precious treasure. “I will never betray you, Abigail. I will always protect you. Always.”
“I know.” I seal my promise with a kiss. “I’m safe with you.”
I’m not shaking anymore. The cold that’d taken root in my bones has melted away, and I’m warm in Dane’s embrace.
“That’s why I don’t talk to my family,” I finish. “I’ve never told them what happened. But even if I did, they would still see me as a failure. I didn’t live up to their expectations, so they threatened to cut me off. I cut them out of my life before they could follow through on their threats.”
“You took back control,” Dane says, his voice still rough with residual anger. “My brave, fierce pet.” He caresses my face and stares into my soul. “You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”
My eyes sting as relief floods me. I’d known that I could trust him with my darkest secrets, but his acceptance means everything to me.
I can tell him anything. One day, I might even tell him about the masked man.
But I’m too raw, too wrung-out. That’s been enough emotional labor for an afternoon. For a lifetime.
I blow out a long sigh, releasing all of the remaining tension from the difficult day as I lean into him.
He cradles the back of my head, holding me firmly against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he promises.
I’ve never felt safer than I do in this moment. I’m protected in the cage of his strong arms, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
28
ABIGAIL
Dane holds me for hours, and I drift, simply indulging in his reassuring presence. I doze off for a while, and when I wake up, it’s dark outside.
I blink, disoriented. “What time is it?”
He kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep, pet.”
“You don’t sound sleepy,” I observe. “Have you been awake long?”
“I haven’t been sleeping.”
I sit upright and turn on the bedside lamp. “I’m sorry. You must’ve been bored. I didn’t mean to drift off.”
He strokes my hair back from my cheek. “You needed the rest. And I could never get bored when I’m holding you.”
Pleasure flushes my cheeks. “That’s very sweet.”
Sometimes, I struggle to process his intense declarations and praise. No one has ever treated me like this, like I’m precious. Valued.
And after the awful altercation with my family, my old feelings of unworthiness are raw and exposed.
He hums, considering me as though he’s trying to puzzle out my complex emotions.
“There’s nothing sweet about me,” he replies. “That’s not a word I would use to characterize myself.”
I giggle. “Are you offended? Should I say you’re a very scary, very intimidating master?”