Page 59 of Lesson In Forgiveness

He was under no illusions about what he was doing. Baiting her now, when she was extremely open and vulnerable, was a lot like signing his death warrant. He was brutally aware he’d left several areas on his person available for her wrath—if he came out of this with nothing less than a broken arm, he’d count himself lucky.

The couch squeaked and creaked ominously with the manic movement of their combined weight. Praying it wouldn’t fall apart, he continued to stoke her rage, bringing it to the surface so it might have a chance to burn hot and wild.

“Men just want one thing from you, don’t they?” he murmured in her ear. He gave her pussy a light pat, feeling her coil tighter than a spring. “This right here. Dominic, his friends, his associates. All they wanted from a young, frightened girl was the cunt between your legs.”

The scream she made was straight from the pits of hell.

Grit cursed as her skull made contact with his chin, sending pain radiating through his jaw, his teeth, even his goddamn eyeballs. Her nails did some damage, just as he’d ordered, digging trenches into his arms, the backs of his hands, even going for his neck.

She morphed into a whirling vortex of dark energy, years of fear and hatred and anger toward her father turning on him instead. Kicking, screaming, hurling threats that made his blood run cold.

Using his strength and size advantage, he managed to contain her, barely, until exhaustion broke her. Covered in sweat, fucking dripping with it, Grit steeled himself and wound her up again, poking the bear repeatedly until there was nothing left for her to fight with.

When she went limp, he realized she could—at any point—have killed him if that’s what she’d truly wanted. She wasn’t quite a match for him in the strength department, but she’d given him a run for his money, and her agility was much greater.

Breathing hard, he blinked sweat out of his eyes and took a moment to savor a hard won victory. “That’s my girl, Tabby. Catch your breath. Fierce little tiger,” he praised, even though his face was throbbing like a rotted tooth. “Take a minute, slow your breathing.”

Not once in all his years had he ever felt so accomplished, as though he’d achieved something great. Listening to her gulp in air, he wasn’t sure she’d agree that they’d achieved something damn near miraculous.

But he wasn’t done, not yet.

Pushing her to the brink of destruction was the first step, now he just had to follow through.

“Still with me, Tabby Cat?”

Her head rolled toward the sound of his voice. “Mmmn.”

“Feel better?”

“Nuh.” She huffed softly. “Uh.”

“Can you remember your safeword?”

Tabitha grunted and mumbled something that resembled, “Not this again.”

“This again,” he told her, keeping his smile in check. “Tell me.”

“Rory.”

Carefully, he lifted his hand off her pussy, relieved when she didn’t rip into him more thoroughly. His arms were already stinging where sweat settled into his wounds. With the lightest touch, he used nothing but his fingertips to trace the swell of her labia, incredibly grateful to find her aroused on some deep, dark level.

She stiffened momentarily, but the fight had taken too much out of her. Though she trembled, he had no doubt if she decided he posed a threat, she’d find the energy from somewhere to stop him in his tracks.

Around and around, he played with her. Ever so gently, listening for any noise she made that might be her safeword, he explored her folds. He found her clit, hidden beneath its hood at the top of her seam, and coaxed it out with feathered strokes.

Tabitha whimpered, her hips jerking.

“It’s all right, little tiger. You’re doing so well. Let me take care of you now, okay? I’ve got you.” He pressed his face into her hair, wishing he could see her face, watch her eyes up close. Moving her now, asking her to change positions, would only break this newfound unity; she was melded into him, bonded with him through sweat and blood. “This is where I need you to trust me most. I need you to hear my voice and stay with me, can you do that?”

Her legs shifted restlessly, uneasily. “I…”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Every time he told her that, he vowed not to break his promise. “Just listen to my voice, Tabitha. Listen to the words, to the cadence. I don’t get any pleasure from you being in pain. It’s not what I need.”

He’d told her this before, he was sure, but there was never any harm in reiterating the important stuff. And this, fuck, this was important from the roots all the way to the top of the grand scheme.

Nuzzling her hair, he kissed his way down to her neck. Her skin was damp, her pulse rabbiting in fast, hard leaps beneath his lips. “Can you feel my heartbeat against your back? How steady my breathing is?”

She nodded, more of a nervous twitch.

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