Chapter 25
POV: Dane?
She stayed cradled in my arms, nestled against my chest, sneaking peeks at me as I carried her towards the shower.
Things had progressed quickly between the two of us.
It wasn’t like it had been with the other women. Far from it.
Gabrielle didn’t beg. She didn’t offer. She didn’t cry or weep. She never broke, not even for a second. She just….accepted. She accepted me.
But I didn’t know for how long.
I was teetering on a thin rope—teetering on the brink of reaching the edge, towards our happy ending but at the same time, also teetering on the edge of falling—of losing her…forever.
I needed to remain in control.
I set Gabrielle’s feet on the bathroom floor, then leaned back against the doorway with my arms folded, watching as she shifted her weight and kept her gaze fixed on the ground.
For a moment, silence engulfed us.
“What?” I chuckled. “Are you going to keep standing there with my cum all over your back?” I teased, taking a step forward, and running my thumb along her cheekbone.
Instead of flinching or lashing out, she melted into my touch, letting me caress her face.
But as if she couldn’t quite let herself give in, her eyes fluttered open and something in her expression shifted. She drew in a quiet breath and took a step back, my hand slipping from her face.
Without a word, she turned on her heel—like if she didn’t do it now, she might not at all. Reaching forward, she twisted the shower handle to hot, and placed herself underneath the water.
She watched me from the shower the entire time, lingering her gaze across my body, almost as if she couldn’t help herself from doing so. Almost as if she didn’t just take every inch of my cock and every drop of my cum minutes ago.
“It’s okay to stare, Belle,” I told her, smirking.
She rolled her eyes, positioning herself further underneath the showerhead, the water rushed over her body, coloring her skin a deeper shade.
For a moment, I stood there admiring her. She wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t weak. She was strong, probably even stronger than I was.
She had passed every one of my tests so far, but even then, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my hold on her was too fragile to trust.
I stepped in the shower, placing my body behind hers and wrapped my arms around her torso, covering her body. I bent my head lower and ran my lips along the top of her ear and whispered, “I know you want me physically but you need to want me emotionally too, Belle.”
She shivered, freezing in place.
“Belle,” I said, running my palms along the back of her neck, stopping at the base of her chin, before turning her gaze up to meet mine.
“Are you scared of me?”
It was a simple question—one I already knew the answer to—but I asked it anyway—it was just another test.
Her lips parted slightly, but she just stared up at me, thinking of what to say. When she already knew the answer.
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting.
“No.”
My jaw ticked. “And does that scare you?”
She bit her lip, watching me. “No.”
“And you think it should, right?” I kept my face stiff, unreadable.
Her lips quivered slightly. “Yes.”
“I thought so,” I said, exhaling a deep breath. “And it’s understandable. But that’s why we need to work on this…”
“This?” she asked, confused, her lips curving in confusion.
“This,” I replied, showing her, placing my hand on her chest near her heart and my other hand on her shoulder. “Breathing. Properly.”
She closed her eyes, letting me lead her.
“Slow breathing,” I added. “Count when you breathe, like this,” I replied, starting by closing my eyes and counting slowly from 1 all the way to 5, taking deep, long, exaggerated breaths.
“In 1, out 1, in 2 out 2, in 3 out 3, in 4 out 4, in 5 out 5.”
I repeated it twice before opening my eyes and looking at her.
Gabrielle hesitated, clenching my hand but starting to inhale and exhale slowly, counting as she did, her eyes closed. After 5 minutes of counting and breathing, she opened her eyes and looked at me.
“How do you feel?” I asked.
But I already knew the answer to that.
She felt closer to me. By miles.
I established intimacy through connection—through trust—through regulated breathing.
“I feel….calmer,” she paused.
“Everytime you feel on the verge of breaking down, questioning reality, or even questioning yourself, do this.”
“Don’t you question this?” she asked in a rush.
I smirked. “I stopped questioning things a long time ago, Belle.” Then I rinsed my head under the hot water.
“Why? Because you’re the one in control?”
I shrugged. “That, but life’s what you make it. And if you enjoy something…if it makes you feel good….if it feels right then why fight it? I learned that a long time ago. I figured out the man I was and realized that this was the reality I wanted,” I looked her over, reading the emotion on her face.
She was confused, that was forsure. She probably thought there was even something wrong with her, but in reality, I knew the truth, there was nothing wrong with her, she was just figuring out who she was.
“There’s nothing wrong with you for enjoying this…for wanting me like you do. Sometimes, some things just work, and there’s no explanation to it. Instead of fighting it, try embracing it.”
And with that I laced my hands around her body, pulling her chest into mine, pressing a deep kiss into her lips and whispered, “breathe, baby.”
And she did.