30. I need to heal what I inflict, but I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it
30
I need to heal what I inflict, but I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it
Firefly
I finally felt myself relax when we left the diner.
She was wrapped around me, her hand woven around my bicep to keep me close, and I still couldn’t believe it.
The dark voices in the back of my head were quiet for the first time in a lot of years, but part of me couldn’t help but wonder…
Was this some kind of joke? Was she luring me into a trap? Would I die at her hand, a knife driven into my chest as I bled out around her?
I felt more content than I could remember feeling in a long time, and the anger that festered inside me had fallen away… but did I deserve to feel like this?
This couldn’t be real. Maybe it was some sadistic fever dream, and I’d wake up with vodka sweats and a bad headache.
How could an angel be content in the arms of a monster? How could someone as perfect as her enjoy the presence of something as imperfect as I was ?
It couldn’t be real. I refused to let myself believe it.
What had happened to my Little Moth? What had changed in her so suddenly, and why? Where was my innocent little girl who shied away from me and cried at the sounds of shadows? I didn’t know what to do with myself now that she was here, and she had willingly brought herself here.
Soft and careful didn’t come as easily to me as rough and violent seemed to.
The closer we got to my door, the slower I walked. I didn’t want the moment to end, even if it all turned out to be a lie. She could stab me in the chest and I’d thank her for the opportunity with my final breath.
The truth was, she could do anything she wanted to me, and I’d go along with it.
Who owned who?
I didn’t know, but I knew I didn’t want it to end.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked, turning to look at her. Instantly, I was caught in her eyes and I almost forgot how to breathe. “You really gonna sell your dad’s house?”
She shrugged, and I watched her lips split into a mischievous smile.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just waiting for a reason to stay.”
We stepped up to my door, and just when I expected her to turn and leave me, she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me inside. I was confused when she pushed me down onto the couch, climbing over me, straddling me with her thighs on either side of mine like I was her favorite carnival ride .
I couldn’t breathe, and my heart had stopped beating inside my chest. My hands fell to her waist on instinct, and hers draped over my shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, the words slipping past my lips before I could bite them back.
My father had told me to only bite my tongue if I was holding back a lie, and there was nothing but truth in these words. Her lips pressed against the line of my jaw and a rumble vibrated in my throat, fingers digging into the curve of her hips and slamming her against me.
I could feel the darkness rising inside me—the violent side of me that I tried so hard to keep suppressed. Something about her unlocked it like a skeleton key, and I had to slam my eyes closed, fighting with whatever beast roared inside my chest.
I couldn’t hurt her. Not when I’d tried so hard to give her everything she wanted today. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted her to see that I could be her safety.
I didn’t have to dissolve into the gnashing, awful creature from her nightmares. I could be good.
I could be nice .
Couldn’t I?
When her lips found mine, and I felt her tongue swipe across my bottom lip, it took everything in me to hold back.
Fuck, she tasted so good. She tasted like everything I imagined of heaven, and the way she smelled was intoxicating. Her scent was like lavender and pine, mingled with something that pulled at the deepest pit inside of me .
I wanted to hold her down, to split her wide open until she cried for me, and then I’d wipe her tears along the underside of my dick to lessen the pain.
I wanted to tear her apart.
But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t hurt my girl.
I was panting, my brain collapsing in on itself like a dying star and moving in a thousand different directions at once. My fingers dug into the swell of her ass, forcing her against me until I felt her heartbeat through the mounds of her skin.
No, fuck. Why was I like this?
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Why couldn’t I protect her from things like me—monsters in the darkness?
Why did I have to hold down the angel, rip off her wings, and watch her gasp for breath?
She kissed me again, and an explosion detonated inside of me.
I could taste her innocence, and it was like a forbidden elixir, like an addict’s drug of choice. My cock was throbbing, laying hot and swollen across my thigh as she ground against me, her lips tracing across mine.
“Be a good girl,” I begged, my voice a rolling moan. “You have to be good, Little Moth.”
She giggled, and I could hear the disobedience in her.
“Why?” she asked, the hands she’d draped across my neck sliding across my shoulders and into my hair, tugging at the roots.
All I could think about was the tower, the flicker of the candle flame, and the constant, larger-than-life ticking of a clock.
Fuck .
Fuck, this was bad.
I was gonna hurt her.
She rolled her hips against me, grinding into the part of me that ached.
It hurt. It hurt so good and it took every single ounce of my willpower to stay grounded. It pulsed like a heartbeat inside of me, and I fought to shake it away. Damn, this girl was like heroin, but I’d shaken that years ago.
Hadn’t I?
How long had it been?
Seven years? Had it even been seven years?
Eight years?
What fuckin’ day was it?
“I don’t wanna hurt you, Vanessa,” I said through gritted teeth.
She drove me crazy in every meaning of the word—good and bad, soft and dangerous.
She was my kryptonite, and I couldn’t fight the pull she had on me.
She rolled against me again, and a soft moan ghosted past her full, bubblegum-pink lips. Something in me exploded like a firework, and I jerked, my hands sliding up her back and crushing her to my chest. I had to hold back.
What if I scared her away?
What if I made her hate me?
“Maybe I want you to hurt me?” she said, pulling away.
She cocked her head to one side, her mane of golden brown hair cascading over one shoulder. Leaning back, her shirt rode up just a few inches—just enough to show me the taut drum of her lower belly, and my cock throbbed in response.
“You don’t,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Trust me, Moth. You don’t.”
“Why?”
“You can’t take it.”
She giggled, and the smile on her lips killed me that much more. My hands gripped her waist, rocking her against me.
She was gonna make me lose control.
Fuck, I couldn’t take this.
I needed to get out. I needed to get away from her before I did something bad.
“I can take it,” she said, her voice a whisper that ghosted over my self-control and damn near tore it loose at the seams. “Remember in the tower?”
“This is different,” I breathed against her neck, inhaling her scent to keep myself grounded.
“Why?” she asked, a smug smile on her lips.
She reached down, hooking her thumbs under the hem of her shirt and pulling it up and over her head. She tossed it over her shoulder, somewhere in a dark corner where it would be lost later.
All I could see was the way her flesh sucked in around her rib cage with every breath and the way her perfect tits strained against her bra with every breath she took. She saw me looking, and she giggled.
This little shit. She was fucking with me.
She was fucking with me, and she was enjoying it .
She returned her arms where they rested before, around my neck, her nails scratching the sensitive skin at the back of my neck and sending tingling shivers up my spine.
“I want you to hurt me, Tommy. Know why?” she said, cocking her head to one side.
“Why?”
“Because when you did, I liked it. I liked it when you took control of me, and I don’t know why, but it makes me feel freer than I ever have. I like it when you own me, and now I want you to own me in every single way you can.”
Leaning forward, she pushed her lips closer to mine, but before they connected, her tongue lashed out and licked across my mouth.
“You’re a fuckin’ brat.”
She giggled.
“Am I?”
I grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t say much else. I didn’t trust myself to speak. My hands, still circled her waist, were shaking with the effort it took to hold myself back.
“Put a baby in me, Tommy,” she whispered, her fingers digging into my hairline, her nails scratching at my scalp and sending shocks jolting me. “Give me a reason to stay.”
I snarled, and when my hands looped around her perfect throat, all my inhibitions had fallen away.