Page 43 of Dragonfly

And you know how I know that?

Because about an hour after Damien insists that we both turn in—and he does settle down into his bed for the first time since I’ve been here, while I curl up on the cot with Orion—I’m still awake, reliving those long, awful nights in prison when it’s like fucking deja vu.

In prison, I rarely slept. When I did, it was only after I checked to make sure Portia was out at least five times. I’d woken up to her deciding to return the favor, licking my pussy to orgasm while I was half asleep too many times to count. Then, when I got mad at her for it, she played the victim—and insisted I give her head while we were both conscious as soon as it was lights out.

It was her way of being a consummate sexual predator. She got off on assaulting me while I was sleeping, then enjoyed the control factor of using her connections against me so that I would drop to my knees for her whenever she snapped her damn fingers.

I became numb to it after a while. The actual physical act of oral sex, I mean.

Close your eyes. Lick. Get it over with…

It’s why I didn’t care when Damien did the same thing. Penetrative sex with a penis is a little different, and I haven’t had any since before I went to prison, so I had to stop him before he tried to fuck me. But blowing him? That was nothing.

Oh, no. I’m so twisted up when it comes to that kind of sex, it doesn’t bother me. But when someone tries to slip in my bed…

The only reason I was able to fall asleep the last two nights was because I did, knowing I was alone in Damien’s room. Now that he’s in here with me… I’m waiting until I hear the soft snuffles of his snores before I even think about shutting my eyes.

They never come. And, after an hour, the moment I was dreading happens.

The cot dips and groans as a second—well, third—body climbs on top of it.

I guess he wasn’t kidding after all when he said he’d choose my bed and expect to be allowed into it if he wanted to.

“You’re still awake.”

Into the darkness, I whisper softly, “Yes.”

“You must be tired. Close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while I’m here.”

It’s that he is there that’s the problem.

He’s spooning me. That’s all. One arm nestling on my hip as we both lay on our sides, he’s squeezed onto the bed—but he’s not doing anything else.

“How can I trust you?”

Damien is silent for a moment. All I can hear is the thudding of my heart and Orion’s gentle purr as he sleeps near my belly.

“I swear on Genevieve’s life that you have nothing to fear from me while we’re in this room.”

There’s a weight to his words that makes me want to believe him. Genevieve… “That’s your sister, right?”

“It is.”

The same sister he was willing to slice my throat open for after I made a tiny reference to possibly making her a target.

And he’s swearing on her life?

“I’m just going to lay here. To hold my wife close. To know that I own you. Capisce? But, in return, I will protect you. From the nightmares that keep you awake, and from whatever made you like this.” He doesn’t say it, but I know what he means: desperate enough to attempt to kill a man like him. “That’s all I ask of you, Savannah… until you ask me for more.”

The soft way he whispers those promises into my hair has my stomach twisting. Where is the monster I spent so long believing he was? Ask him… “You mean beg you, don’t you?”

“No. When I see my wife on her knees again, it’ll be because she chose to be, not because she thought it would be enough to keep the brute away from her.”

I arch my back, bumping my ass into his erection. In the silent darkness, the sound of Damien sucking in a breath seems impossibly loud.

“It didn’t work.”

He sucked in that breath, now he shudders it out. His hand lands on my hip, burning a brand through my jeans. “No, ragna mia. It didn’t.”

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