Chapter 4 #2
"I know that now." Her voice strengthens.
"Being with him felt wrong because it was wrong.
My body knew even when my brain tried to rationalize staying.
" She takes a shaky breath. "He pressured me constantly.
Made me feel broken for not wanting him.
Told me I was frigid, that no other man would want damaged goods. "
"Melody." Her name comes out like gravel. I close the remaining distance between us, cupping her face in my hands. "Look at me."
She does, tears gathering in her eyes.
"You are not damaged," I say firmly. "You are not broken. Your instincts protected you from someone who didn't deserve the gift of your trust, your body, or your vulnerability." I brush away a tear that's escaped down her cheek. "That takes incredible strength."
"I wanted to explore," she continues, words tumbling out now that the dam has broken. "The BDSM stuff, the submission, all of it. But only in theory, in my head. I've never actually done anything. I've never even..." She trails off, embarrassment flooding her features.
Understanding clicks into place. "Have you ever been touched by anyone?"
She shakes her head. "Just myself. And that felt wrong too, with Jason constantly demanding access to my body while making me feel ashamed of it."
The protective rage building in my chest threatens to overwhelm rational thought. I want to find Jason Mills and show him exactly what happens to men who break down women's boundaries and self-worth. But Melody needs something different from me right now.
"Thank you for telling me," I say, forcing my voice to remain gentle despite the fury burning through me. "This changes things."
Her face falls. "You don't want me anymore."
"No." I tilt her chin up, making sure she sees the truth in my eyes. "I want you more. But we're going to take this slower than I originally planned. What you're offering me, Melody, it's not something I take lightly."
"I chose you," she whispers. "After everything, I chose you. That means something."
"It means everything." I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in. "But it also means I have a responsibility to make sure your first time is exactly what you deserve. Not rushed. Not born from fear or rebellion or proving something to your ex."
"It's not about him." Her hands come up to grip my wrists. "When I think about being intimate, I think about you. About trusting someone enough to be completely vulnerable. About wanting to explore parts of myself I've kept hidden."
The honesty in her words sends heat spiraling through me. "When it happens, it will be because you're ready. Because you've learned about your body and your desires. Because you trust me not just with your submission, but with all of you."
"I already trust you."
"We've known each other two weeks." I smile despite the seriousness of the conversation.
"Trust like I'm talking about takes time to build.
It's earned through consistency, through proving I'll respect your boundaries, through showing you that your pleasure and safety matter more to me than my own satisfaction. "
She studies my face, searching for something. "Most guys would be thrilled about the virgin thing. Take advantage of my inexperience."
"I'm not most guys." I step back, creating space again before I lose control of the situation. "And I'm definitely not going to take advantage of you. We're going to do this right."
"What does that mean? Doing it right?"
"It means education first. Learning your body, your responses, what brings you pleasure." I move to the sink, needing the distraction of mundane tasks. "It means honest conversations about desires and boundaries. It means building anticipation slowly instead of rushing toward a finish line."
"That sounds..." She pauses, considering. "Really hot, actually."
I can't help the laugh that escapes. "You continue to surprise me."
"Good." She joins me at the sink, her shoulder brushing mine. "I don't want to be predictable."
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, shattering the intimate bubble we've created. I check the screen and frown. Jake, with an update I need to see.
"Give me a second," I tell Melody, pulling up the message.
Jake: Confirmed PI is Marcus Wells. Former cop. Works exclusively for high-profile clients. Known for being thorough but not dangerous.
I text back quickly before returning my attention to Melody, who's watching me with those expressive eyes.
"Everything okay?" she asks.
"Just a security update." I pocket the phone. "Nothing urgent."
She nods, then yawns despite trying to hide it. The adrenaline of the evening is clearly catching up to her.
"You should get some rest," I say, even though everything in me wants to keep her here, keep talking, keep building this foundation between us. "Tomorrow's going to be complicated enough without adding sleep deprivation."
Disappointment flashes across her face, quickly masked. "Right. Of course."
I catch her hand as she starts to move away. "This isn't me pulling away. But there are things you need to understand before we go further. Things about me, about what I expect, about how I... care for someone. And that conversation requires clear heads, not exhaustion and adrenaline."
"You mean your dominance." Her directness catches me off guard again.
"Yes." I squeeze her hand gently. "This isn't just physical for me, Melody. If we do this, it means something. And I need you to be very sure it's what you want, especially now that I know you've never been with anyone."
She studies me, her expression serious. "And when you realize I'm sure?"
"Then we'll talk tomorrow. When we're both clear-headed and not running on attraction alone." I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. "And we'll take our time. No rushing. No pressure. Just honest exploration of what we both want."
She nods, accepting this boundary. "Tomorrow, then."
"Get some rest," I murmur, releasing her hand reluctantly.
Melody takes a step toward the hallway, then turns back. In one fluid motion, she rises on her toes and presses her lips to mine in a brief, sweet kiss that promises more.
"Goodnight, Malik," she whispers against my mouth.
"Goodnight, Melody."
I watch her walk back to the bedroom, the sway of her hips beneath my t-shirt testing my resolve all over again. Only when the door closes behind her do I exhale heavily, leaning against the counter.
A virgin. Melody Washington is a twenty-six-year-old virgin who's never been touched, never been loved the way she deserves, never had the chance to explore her own desires without shame or pressure.
And she's chosen me. Trusted me with this gift I never expected to receive.
The weight of that responsibility settles over me like a mantle. I meant what I said about doing this right. Her first time won't be rushed or careless. It will be everything she deserves and more. I'll make sure of it.
My phone buzzes again with another update from Jake, but I ignore it for now. Tomorrow I'll deal with security protocols and private investigators. Tonight, I need to process the magnitude of what Melody just shared with me.
I return to the couch, knowing sleep will be even more elusive now. But for entirely different reasons than before.
That conversation changed everything. And I get the feeling neither of us is ready for what comes next.