Chapter 14 TRACE #5
I’ve noticed that most nights, she lights a candle before bed but she usually forgets to blow it out before sleep, often burning down the wick to nothing before she wakes.
I never really understood why she does it and why she’s so careless to not put it out before closing her eyes.
Thankfully, she has me. But I don’t blow this candle out like I’ve done to countless others before.
Instead, I let the amber glow be my guide as I kneel on her bed and watch as she starts to struggle a little more.
I hate watching her have these nightmares.
Mainly because it’s a pain I can’t control.
And I know she can’t control it either. I can only assume that she’s been having them for years but I know for certain at least for as long as I’ve been watching her, I know not to go too far in case she needs me to help her get out of them, because I’m the only one who knows how.
I hate that I’m not always there, but tonight I am and she won’t have to suffer inside her own head for long.
Olivia whimpers, her body swiftly twisting to the other side, her head thrashing along with her.
I wonder what she dreams about, what haunts her in her sleep.
I’m sure I have a feeling. The only thing that I can think of that would cause her to be so tormented in her head while she sleeps.
But whatever it is, I know she doesn’t deserve it.
I lean in a little, careful not to make any sudden movements so as not to wake her.
I can see sweat percolate along her brows and her body seems rather tense.
I delicately peel the comforter from over her, pushing it down to her feet.
I need to cool her off so that she can open up for me a little more; releasing the heat that caresses her and welcoming a cool breeze to counteract the tension she’s holding.
I can already tell that it’s working just a little bit, just as it does time and time before, and once the blanket is pulled down her feet, I freeze.
Fuck, she is beautiful. A fucking devil hard at work to ruin any man.
And though I’ve been in this position with her more times than I can count, it somehow feels different.
Maybe because she’s now aware that I’m back and that I’m coming for her.
But she doesn’t know how close I’ve always fucking been.
She’s clad in blue cotton pajamas; a button up top and shorts that show off her perfect fucking thighs.
I dip my head in remembrance of having them wrapped around me just hours ago, how fucking nice it felt to have her in my arms. How dangerous it was to find out just how much she liked being scared of me.
An exhilaration that has buried itself deep into my bones along with the look that was laced in her eyes as my mask reflected back into them.
Olivia breaks me from my thoughts when she groans in what sounds like fear and I lean over her body to brush the hair from her face. My movement is slow and intentional, making sure that I don’t apply enough pressure to wake her but just enough to make sure that she feels it.
“Shh. I’m right here, Livie. Right here.” My whispers are barely loud enough for me to hear myself over her frightened breathing but I know she can sense my voice.
Her brows pinch up in worry, and her chest starts to rise and fall a little faster and harder.
Her reaction to her nightmares always seems to be the same every time, which causes me to assume to scenario she’s concocting and just how real it might seem to her, repeating the same fucking terror over and over again.
I let my hand slide down from her forehead and over temple, tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing gently into the little cove right behind her earlobe.
Using just the pad of my index finger, I start to trail down.
I lightly trace over the fluttering pulse in her neck, listening as her breathing turns from frantic to a little more steady.
I then slide my finger down to her collarbone, gliding over the soft fabric of her night shirt.
Her eyes loosen up from how tight they’ve been shut, her lips start to part, and her body starts to relax under my touch.
And then I slide my finger over the curve of her clothed breast, scraping gently against her pert nipple and I circle it a few times.
Now her breathing starts to tick up again but this time .
. . it’s from pleasure, not from torment.
At this moment, before I continue my movements, I lean in and blow very gently across her face.
She gasps as the air hits her skin and then I continue to slide my finger downward, over her ribcage and down to her belly button.
Any moment now…
She moans. That’s my girl.
I won’t continue any further. I don’t have to.
I know that she’s better now; the nightmare she was suffering from has now twisted into something she can manage without feeling suffocated and when she wakes, I know she’ll feel the ache that I just provided her which I guess is still a torture of sorts, but I digress.
She starts to stir a bit, eagerly chasing my touch but my job here is done.
I reach down for the covers and start to pull them back over her body, knowing she’ll wake up any moment now, likely just to go back to sleep.
But before I stand from the bed, I lean over her and run my thumb over her bottom lip.
She’s breathing so gently now; quiet little breathes of air brush against my thumb as I swipe back and forth.
My dick hardens; she is so fucking perfect it’s sickening.
I lean in, lowering my mouth to her ear.
I breathe in and then exhale slowly, still pressing my thumb to her lip before whispering into her ear.
“I am the only nightmare who gets to haunt you, little reckless.” I check the time on my phone, seeing that it's well past midnight and nearly into the morning hours.
I lean into her temple and press a kiss there.
“Happy birthday, Livie,” I whisper and then I leave, blowing out her candle before abandoning her in the dark.