Chapter 52
H iding the worst of my scars from Johnathan wasn’t a conscious decision as much as it was instinct screaming at me to do so and circumstance making it easy.
My left hip was against the back of the sofa, so hiding the worst from him was easy enough, and then sleeping in his shirt made it easy to hide at night.
But now, sitting in the bath with bubbles up to my chest while he takes such great care in washing my hair while I hug my knees to my chest has me wanting to take that last leap of faith.
The care in his every action, the utter devotion he’s shown me, has me wanting to share it all with him: the good, the bad and even the ugly.
As he massages conditioner in my scalp I feel the last part of my resistance crumble.
Taking one of his hands in my own with a squeeze, I place it on the ruined flesh of my hip.
He freezes beside me, fingers lightly tracing the marks there.
I can feel the fury bleeding into him as he growls, “Who did this to you?”
And so, with a shaky breath and my heart in my throat, I lay my soul bare to him.
The words are slow and stilted, and with every sentence, I can feel him grow tenser and tenser at my back.
“After the accident, I woke up in a cell. It wasn’t long before I was sold off.
For a while, I thought my new owner was the worst fate that awaited me, but then Angus paid us a visit… ”
As the words spill from my lips, as I share every inch of depravity and heartbreak, part of my soul knits itself back together, the damage lessening with every word.
“After what they did to Freya…I couldn’t cope anymore.
I’d reached my breaking point, and with nothing left to lose, a part of me just snapped.
I killed them, Johnny. I’m a murderer. God, I feel so filthy.
They ruined me in ways I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.
He branded me, pierced my nipples… Jonathan, there’s nothing he didn’t do,” I sob.
“Helen…I’m so fucking sorry,” he rasps, resting his head against mine. We sit there in silence, him still gently tracing the ugly mark that ensures I never forget what happened.
103 might be free, but she’s far from buried.
Eventually, he breaks the charged silence to get me to tip my head back so he can rinse the conditioner out. At the same time, it feels like he’s rinsing away some of the hurt clinging to me. Helping me out of the bath, he keeps his gaze firmly locked with mine as he drops to his knees before me.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Showing you just how perfect you are to me, scars and all.” He places a kiss on first one foot, then the other before making his way up my legs.
Seeing this powerful man on his knees for me takes my breath away.
As he works his way up my body with an endless stream of reassurance and praise, I’m a mess by the time he’s standing in front of me again.
As he cups my face in his palms, tears blur my vision.
“You are perfection, Helen, and you always have been. It was always you, sweetheart; it will always be you . I want you exactly as you are. Nothing is ever going to make me want you or love you less. You’re my beginning, middle, and end.
When I thought you died, a part of me died with you.
The only reason I didn’t chase death was because I knew our daughter needed me, but God, sweetheart.
It was agony living in a world without you.
I want to spend a lifetime by your side, helping you heal, watching you flourish and making up for what was stolen from us.
” Tears stream down both our faces at this point.
“I always loved you, even when it hurt to do so,” I confess on a broken sob.
With a choked noise, he drops his forehead to rest against mine.
I’m captivated by his eyes, eyes I dreamt of, eyes that haunted me as I raised our daughter without him.
With his hands under my ass, he lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. In that moment, Jonathan’s kiss is a rough claiming as he reassures us both that this is real.
It strips away the last of my control, pulling me deeper and deeper into him until the only thing I can think about is him and the burn of his mouth on mine.
I cling to him as he steps out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
The world around us blurs, shrinking to focus on the heat between us.
All that matters is our raw need to be one.
The whole world could burn down around us right now for all we’d notice.
Setting me on my feet in the middle of the room, he takes me in with heated eyes.
“Every inch of you is mine, from the top of your pretty head to your toes, and I think it’s about time I remind you of that fact.
What do you say, sweetheart?” The promise in his words has me shifting my weight, desperate for some relief from the low throbbing in my core.
My mouth is dry, so with a nod of my head, I go to move closer to him, only to stop when he tsks.
“Words, pretty girl. I need to hear you say it.”
“Pretty please,” I sass, rolling my eyes at him.
His lips twitch into a smirk, and for a heartbeat, the air between us softens—less fire, more warmth. But then his gaze drops to my bare body, and a low groan escapes him as he shifts, adjusting himself.
I watch him, heart pounding, the air thick between us.
“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” I say, the words raw and real. “I need this—I need you. You’re the only one I trust to help me take my body back.”
The hunger in his eyes flares hotter, but it’s tempered by something deeper. Something reverent. His jaw tightens, and for a beat, he doesn’t speak—just watches me like he’s memorising this moment.
“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, voice low and reverent now, thick with restraint. “And crawl to me.”
I don’t hesitate this time. I lower myself, deliberately, onto my hands and knees, and meet his gaze as I move. There’s no fear in my chest now—only fire. Only him.
Each step forward is a quiet rebellion against the years I was forced to flinch, to shrink, to obey out of fear instead of desire. With every inch I close between us, I reclaim something.
The act of crawling should have me outraged. Humiliated. But the way he looks at me—like I’m something sacred—and the way he doesn’t command, just waits , has me desperate to close the space between us.
When I finally reach him, he kneels too, meeting me eye to eye. One hand rises to cradle my face with aching gentleness.
“You’re sure?” he asks, voice low and hoarse with restraint. “If you say stop—”
“I won’t,” I whisper. “Not with you.”
His breath catches. Something flickers in his eyes—fierce, protective, awed.
“I don’t want you to go easy on me,” I add, barely more than a breath. “I need this—I need you .”
He nods once, his thumb brushing over my cheek, like he’s anchoring himself with the weight of my words.
“Then let me give you everything,” he says softly. “Let me show you what it feels like to be wanted without fear.”
And there’s no hesitation when he leans in to kiss me—slow, reverent, claiming in a way that feels like a promise.
As the kiss deepens, his hands move with aching control, one sliding down to my waist, the other unfastening his belt with a quiet click that sends heat curling low in my belly.
When he breaks the kiss, his eyes darken.
“You want a taste?” he murmurs, teasing a bead of precum over my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.
I don’t answer. I don’t need to.
I part my lips and dart my tongue out, offering myself in the most deliberate way.
With a groan, he gives me what I want.
Rising to his feet, he frees his cock and thrusts into my mouth—slow, deep, deliberate—and my moan vibrates around him. My eyes flutter shut, body tingling with every roll of his hips. His hand anchors in my hair, his other resting protectively on my shoulder.
And in this moment, there’s no shame. No fear.
Only trust.
Only him.
And the beginning of something that feels like healing.
“Good girl,” he groans, thrusting in and out slowly, letting the head almost pop out from between my lips before guiding himself to the back of my throat again. Reaching down to squeeze my throat, he lets out a curse as he feels himself there.
“Such a pretty girl on her knees for me. Did you miss my big fucking dick, huh? The way it stretches you, fills you up.” Leaning over me, his palm cracks across my bare ass, and I whimper around his cock.
He does it to the other cheek, spanking me hard enough to have fire chasing across the tender skin.
Arching into it, I whine as I take him even deeper, moans and spit slipping out around him.
He spanks my ass again before slowly sliding between my thighs and palming my pussy.
“God, look how needy you are,” he groans, holding my face against his abs as he teases my pussy with the other hand. As he sinks two thick fingers into me, I moan, arching into his touch, desperate for more, all while I hollow my cheeks around his cock.
Soon, he’s thrusting his fingers in and out in time with the movement of his hips as he fucks my mouth. It’s lewd and messy and oh so fucking hot as he fucks me from both ends, turning me into a puddle of need at his feet.
With a low, throaty sound he pulls away. His fingers stroke my lips, making me taste myself before slipping lower to squeeze my neck, then stepping back to look at me. “Such an eager slut for me.”
“All yours,” I vow, my voice coming out raspy after being thoroughly face fucked. With a hum, he circles before crouching in front of me.
“The question is, will you let me show you what eager little sluts get?” A million possibilities flick through my head at his words, but the only thing any of them make me feel is excitement.
“I’m yours to fuck how you see fit, Sir.” I bat my eyelashes at him, and with a dark chuckle, he rises to his full height again.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to regret that.
” He mutters before helping me to my feet.
Leading me to the bed, he pushes me down face first. As he slowly and meticulously wraps silk restraints around my wrists and ankles, binding them together, my pulse races—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Pure, unfiltered lust courses through me as Jonathan binds me into a present for himself.
By the time he’s done, I can’t move a muscle.
All I can do is take what he gives me. Everything feels heightened, and as he glides his fingers over the backs of my thighs and up over my ass, I gasp.
“I wish you could see what I see right now,” he murmurs. “My perfect, needy little slut, all her holes open to me. Which one should I stuff full of my cock first, hmm?”
Suddenly, warm air teases my bare pussy, making me gasp. Without warning, I feel his tongue dragging up between my lips to circle my clit. I try to thrust back against him, only to get a sharp slap to my cheek before he drags his tongue towards the rosebud of my ass instead.
Slipping his hand underneath me, he thrusts two fingers inside my pussy as he eats my ass like a starved man.
The dual sensation has me crying out, choking on my pleasure as I strain against my restraints, my eyes rolling back in ecstasy.
My moans mix with his growls, my thighs starting to shake as, suddenly, Jonathan yanks my head back by my hair, and the triple whammy of sensations sends me hurtling over the edge with a sharp cry.
I’m still gasping for breath when he stands, withdrawing his fingers, using his grip on my hair to pull me back into him as he blankets my back. “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”
That’s all the warning I get before I feel him pressed against my pussy. With a curse, he tugs my head back to lock eyes with me as he thrusts his cock inside me. Instantly, I feel like I’m split in half as he rams every inch of himself in to the hilt.
“Christ,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to my shoulder blade as he stills, like he’s savouring the moment. My knees shake with the pressure as he grinds his hips into me. “Fuck me, your pussy is trying to strangle me. Such a greedy little hole. She missed me, didn’t she?”
“God, yes,” I cry. My eyes roll back into my head, my jaw going slack as everything ceases to exist. Another guttural sound rips from me as he shoves my head down into the mattress, using the leverage to truly fuck me.
Sharp, fast thrusts have me clenching down on him, desperate to keep him inside me.
I dig my nails into my ankles to ground myself as his hips roll into mine.
When he said he was going to show me what eager sluts get, he wasn’t kidding. Fuck, does it feel good to be so free.
I’m so fucking wet, I can feel it dripping down my thighs as Jonathan fucks me with single-minded determination.
In this moment, the only thing that matters to him, to me, to us, is this .
The harder he fucks me, the more firmly he reclaims me, the more at his mercy I become, the closer I get to coming all over his dick and reminding him who owns it.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts as his cock rams into me. “Bounce on my fucking cock. Show me how much you missed it. Coat me in your cum. Do it.” The tight coil inside me reaches its breaking point. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come. Be a good girl and take every drop.”
The combination of his filthy words and the feeling of his dick swelling inside me does it.
Everything blurs as my shaking body arches back into his thrusts, and needy whines fall from my lips.
I’m shaking as Jonathan slams into me one final time, his abs hitting my ass as he buries himself deep and groans.
His cock twitches, pumping me full of his cum just as he promised.
He pulls my head up, twisting my face around before his mouth crashes to mine, kissing me like he’s claiming me.
As if he hasn’t already claimed me soul-deep.