38. Chapter 38 - Cade
Waking up with her body pressing mine is torture, even though we’re both fully clothed.
Knowing she wants more from me makes it a million times worse.
There’s no universe where that would be fair for her. She’s been locked up, abused, and neglected. I should have expected she’d latch onto me as the first person to treat her with any sense of dignity.
That isn’t love, no matter how much I wish it was. It wouldn’t be fair to her to let it happen.
She deserves so much more.
But fuck, peeling away from her, hearing that tiny whimpering moan that escapes her throat as she shifts into the pillow, it makes me want to throw out all of my inhibitions and give in.
I could show her adoration. As I grab my bag and pad into the bathroom with my cock raging behind my zipper, all I can imagine is kissing every one of her scars to show her how pleasure can replace the pain.
How patience and a gentle touch can make her cry out in ecstasy when all she’s known is anguish.
The hot water is nearly instantaneous from the shower head making steam fill the small bathroom while I strip down.
There’s a pressure inside of me that I have to get out. All I can picture is her lips wrapping the ice cream spoon…and how she’d sound when she’s locked in the throes of passion.
Would she scream and cry out, or lock up in a silent shudder when she climaxes? My hand wraps my stiff length, working the suds up and down my shaft in a pale imitation of what she might feel like.
I’d take my time tasting every inch of her until she begged me to fuck her.
Shit. It makes me feel filthy that I want her so badly. That I want the marks on our naked bodies to press, erasing the misery we’ve both suffered.
Fighting the groan of release, I spurt into the scalding stream, shivering through the guilt of my climax.
I feel even worse now as the white ribbons disappear down the drain. She deserves someone so much better than me.
Who? I’d kill any man who tried to touch her.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t want her, but I don’t want to let her go.
Someone smarter than me needs to talk us both down.
And I know exactly who that should be.
“Morning,” she mumbles, tugging the thick comforter up to her chin. But then her arms erupt from beneath it as she stretches languidly. “Did you save me some hot water?” A tiny smile tugs up that pouty mouth I want to kiss.
Shit. I have to stop.
“I sure did. Figured I’d get in and out so I could fetch us some breakfast.” I dig in my bag for a fresh pair of socks and pull them on before sliding my feet into my boots.
“Thank you.” She flips the edge of the blanket back and stands, her tee is all knotted in the back, revealing the hatch marks etched into her skin.
My fingers twitch with the urge to smooth my palm over them, tracing each one until they blend from a nightmare into a dream.
“Your side looks better.” I gesture toward the fading green bruise. “I’m glad.”
She pulls the hem down slowly and frowns. “Cade, I understand what you said yesterday. But that?” She waves to the rumpled bed where we both slept. “I like that. Is it okay?”
She’s going to be the death of me.
I should say no. This is verging into dangerous territory. “Yea.” I scratch the back of my head awkwardly then drop my Stetson down over my ears. “I like it too.”
Too damn much.
What happens when I wake up with my dick rubbing on her? Shit. Like this morning? I get up and take care of the problem, that’s what.
“Any requests besides shitty coffee?” I grin, antsy to make a little space before my zipper gets tight again.
“Um, eggs?” Then her blue eyes widen with her sly smile. “And maybe some sausage?”
Yep, I’m screwed.