Chapter 16
Sebastian Sterling
Peter opens his door before I shut the apartment door behind me. Even though the sun has yet to rise and we snuck out long after it set, he steps into the hall with alert eyes and worry emanating from him.
Despite our rocky start, I respect him and his friendship with Penelope. After flicking on the hallway light and tightening his robe around himself, he looks Penelope over from head to toe. Concern mars his perfectly plucked brow.
“What happened?” he demands.
“I fell. I’m okay,” she lies.
“She’s not okay. She concussed herself,” I say.
He scowls and swings angry eyes at me. Surprise widens his lashes as he studies my face. He turns his attention back to Penelope.
“Please tell me you did that to him,” he says.
She shakes her head and grimaces. His expression falls.
“It was Mr. Carter,” Penelope says.
Laughter brightens Peter’s green gaze.
“That’s what the stupid jock gets for stalking my friend like a creep. I’m a little disappointed Mr. Carter didn’t do more damage,” he fake pouts.
I lift a brow. So much for respecting each other.
“Can we catch up later? I’m tired,” Penelope admits. My senses sharpen on her. She’s too pale.
“Of course, babe. Do you want me to kick him out or is he welcome here?” he asks.
I grit my teeth as he ignores me, but I’d rather chop off my own foot than drive a wedge between Penelope and her best friend.
“He’s sleeping in my room with me,” Penelope declares.
Every muscle in my body seizes with want.
To my surprise, Peter nods and reaches for his bedroom doorknob.
“Alright. You know where I am if you need anything,” he says as he steps into his room.
“Wait. Peter?” she calls.
He peeks his head back out into the hall.
“Yes, Pen?”
“You’re not mad I locked you out again?” she asks.
His expression softens.
“No, babe, I’m not mad. I’m just glad you came back out again so soon, even if it means that stupid jock will be sticking around,” he says with a jab of his finger in my direction.
Her soft smile fills me with jealousy and awe.
“Thanks, Peter. Also… maybe wear your headphones tonight,” she suggests.
I snap my eyes to hers, certain I misheard her, but despite her fatigue, wicked delight curls her lips.
She’s an evil little minx, but I won’t hold her to the promises lurking in her hazel orbs. By the exhaustion bracketing her eyes, she won’t last another five minutes on her feet.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, but she grabs my wrist and tugs me behind her.
My heart skips several beats as she leads me over the threshold of her room and closes the door behind us without turning on the lights.
For a moment, I stand in complete darkness, too afraid I’ll break something if I step in the wrong direction, but she moves in front of me and guides me backward with her hands on my chest. I follow her silent guidance and lean back against the door.
After a nervous breath, she flicks the light switch on the wall beside the door.
With an elaborate desk and computer area taking up almost half the room, she still organized the space so well the kitchen supplies, clothing, books, and other furniture don’t seem crowded.
On a second pass, I realize there is no bed.
A large bean bag and several pillows sit on a thick rug in the corner. My stomach tightens as I realize soundproofing panels cover the surrounding walls.
“Sorry, I—” she begins.
I pull her to me, plastering our fronts together, and kiss the top of her head.
“Don’t apologize, sweet pea. This is your sanctuary. Everything in here is meant to be for your comfort, not mine. I’m honored you invited me.”
She grabs my hips and presses her forehead against my solar plexus—she truly is tiny compared to me, a fact I’m always conscious of but much more aware of when we’re standing in front of each other—and sighs.
“They squished me between mats in the gym.” Horror grips me.
I cup her shoulders in my massive hands as she lifts her head and continues.
“I couldn’t breathe, but they just kept piling more and more mats on top of me.
” The terror shining in her hazel irises guts me.
“I could barely hear them laughing through all the layers.” Her shudder travels through us both.
“I really thought I was going to die.” She pulls her lip ring into her mouth and inhales through her nose.
“I could never sleep on a mattress again after that.” With a tilt of her head and a half-smile, she adds, “But also, a bean bag is more comfortable with all my piercings, especially new ones when they’re sore. ”
I can’t breathe as fury, sadness, and arousal war within me.
The reminder of her piercings fills me with visceral intrigue—I’ll never forget my surprise and delight as her labia rings joined the bombardment of sensations as she worked my cock into her tight, wet pussy—since I have yet to play with her nipples the way she played with mine, but the thought of her suffering all these years fills me with guilt and anger.
She swats my arm and tugs me toward the bathroom.
“That was one of the easier days,” she says.
My mouth dries as I realize she’s speaking of being squished between gym mats. She isn’t joking despite her flippant tone.
I stand with my heart in my throat as she positions me in front of the shower and closes the bathroom door. With the mirrors over the sink, along the wall, and the full-length one attached to the back of the door, her reflection offers me a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of her body.
Time stands still as she unzips her hoodie, shrugs it off her shoulders, and reaches for the hem of her T-shirt.
All the oxygen leaves the room as she pulls the fabric over her head and tosses it onto the floor at her feet.
Trapped in a storm of emotions, I curl my hands into fists and force my diaphragm to expand my lungs.
She’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. The flare of her hips and her full breasts compressed in her sports bra flood my mouth with saliva.
Harder than a rock, my cock tests the integrity of my pants even as horror grips my soul.
Thin white lines, thick, jagged edges, and round burn scars cover her torso. Instead of soft, smooth flesh, the skin from her shoulders to below her waistline tells a horrible story of abuse. It’s unfathomable. I vibrate from the depths of my soul from the intensity of my fury.
She reaches for the underbust of her bra. I grab her forearms.
My ragged breaths fill the cramped space.
The piercings on her sternum—cute little diamonds like the dermals beside her eye—shine amidst the scarred flesh of her cleavage.
I long to bury my face in her chest and tease the jewelry with my lips and tongue as I explore every inch of her with my hands.
The gem dangling from the curved bar in her belly button makes me yearn to fall to my knees and worship her.
Hurt flashes in her eyes. I rush to explain when I realize she thinks I’m rejecting her.
“Leave it on, love. I can’t promise I’ll hold back if you show me your perfect breasts, and you need rest after your injury,” I growl.
“I don’t usually wear bras. They itch and burn,” she admits.
I curse, close my eyes, and drop my head back, needing a moment to center myself before I push her up against the wall and fuck her senseless. Or worse, the floor.
“Is it bothering you now?” I ask.
She shakes her head. I swallow my disappointment and excess saliva, run my fingers through my hair, and reach for her.
She steps away and lifts a hand to stop me.
Braver than any small, delicate woman should ever have to be, Penelope gathers her hair off her nape and gives a slow turn, ensuring every scar on her body burns into my memory.
After a full rotation, she stops, pierces my soul with her glittering hazel eyes, and holds her hand out so her ring glints in the light.
“This belonged to my friend Terry. She gave it to me the day before she committed suicide.” Her voice wavers, but she clears her throat and continues. “I didn’t even realize she was being bullied until they started targeting me again after you left.”
My heart hurts too much. I fist my shirt over my sternum to resist the urge to pull her into my arms. I can’t shield her from the past, but I can protect her in the future.
Refusing to interrupt her for fear of her closing up and never telling me, I curl my toes against the floor tiles and clench my teeth.
“When I reached out for help only for everyone to turn away, I took it all in silence because I thought I deserved it. Because I failed Terry. She suffered for an entire year right in front of me, and I didn’t even know until the end.”
Her swallow pains me.
“I’ll never take this off, but… I want to wear your ring, too.”
Even as elation soars through me, the worry in her gaze roots me to the spot.
“So don’t give up on me. Okay?” she pleads.
I bracket her face in my hands, mindful of her bruised chin, and bend down to press my forehead against hers. Her sweet vanilla scent seeps into my psyche and soothes my soul.
“I’m never leaving, pipsqueak. You’re mine. I’m yours. Forever,” I swear.
She sags in relief and hooks her hands around my nape. My back cramps from bending down so far, but I don’t give a shit. Her breath ghosts over my lips as she whispers.
“I’m sorry about what I said at the jewelry store.”
My heart melts.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
“I ran into my bully. She said—”
Penelope shakes so hard I worry she’ll aggravate her still recovering brain. I wrap my arms around her and lift her off her feet. She squeaks and wraps her legs around my hips. I growl and carefully spin around before leaning into the shower and adjusting the temperature.