Page 68 of Burn for Me

Red-tainted drool drips down her chin to her chest as she tries to nod. The sight has me too fucking close, but I’m grateful I’ve been able to last this long with how damn good she feels. My veins bulge against the tight fit and the rigid sensation against the softness of her welcoming hole.

Removing my fingers, I grip her jaw so she stays focused on our reflection. It’s no longer a punishment to make her watch her fear… I just want her to be able to see what she does to me.

“Tell me what you’re scared of.” Her arse slaps against my hips creating a beautiful wet sound, and she pants trying to find some semblance of words. It's a pitiful attempt when all that’s coming out is incoherent gibberish.

“I’m not scared of losing control.” I groan and clench my eyes shut to place a soft kiss on the side of her neck the exact moment she screams my name so loud her voice goes out. I can feel every flutter and pulse of her pussy around me as her come joins the blood dripping from our bodies to the floor.

“I’m scared of trusting people.” Quickly I grip the nape of her neck and press her torso flat with the surface so I can bury myself deeper into her cunt.

“Letting them in,” I grunt while pulling out, wrapping my fist tight around my shaft as I stroke it.

“I’m scared of loving you.” I moan as her body limps into the carpet, and I come all over her pretty new art. Sitting back on my heels, I twirl my thumb into the come and blood to admire my handiwork. No matter how badly I just want to collapse on her back and let us pass out in this puddle, I can’t let us lay like this, not afterthat.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I push myself off the floor and mutter a curse under my breath as my legs wobble. My emotions feel numb and sluggish as I leave the room and head to the bathroom. I run a bath, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable level and tossing in the substance from her bottle, waiting for the bubbles to form.

I’m sure she’s exhausted and probably sore, and I can only imagine how her screaming must have irritated her throat. I grin at the thought, making a mental note to grab her a glass of water before I clean her up.

A broken sob captures my attention before I even reach the threshold of the living room, and my head snaps in that direction. Before I can think, I tuck one arm under her knees and wrap the other firmly around her back as I drop to the floor, holding her close to me.

“Shhh. What’s wrong? What hurts?”

She shakes her head, pressing it against the crook of my neck, making it difficult to decipher the cause of her distress. I quickly reach for the fireplace switch and turn it off.

Was I too rough? Did I hurt her in a way she didn’t like? Was it too far? Did she feel like she couldn’t use her safe word?

My mind races as I stand and rush her to the bathroom, gently lowering her into the warm bubbles.

“Damn it, Jasmine. We have a safe word for a reason,” I mutter under my breath as I hurriedly take off my pants and crawl in behind her. Pressing my hands on her back, I try to encourage her to lean forward so I can examine her skin.

“Darlin’, I need you to talk, or I can’t help.” This foreign feeling makes my stomach turn, and my eyes burn. “I don’t know how to fix it...”

Did I lose control on the one person I want to protect?

“I thought you were leaving me alone in there,” she whispers.

Running my fingers over the marks, I let out a breath, knowing I didn't go any deeper than I intended. All the wounds are clean and precise, so I gently brush my fingers over her head to guide her back against my shoulder.

“I—I thought you were tossing me away because you couldn’t forgive me.” she whimpers. I continue to soothe her by running my fingers through her hair as I grab a rag and dip it into the water. Ignoring the sting that crosses my palm, I wipe the washcloth against her face to clean away the blood.

“I was just getting a bath ready for us. I apologize for not saying anything. I’m still processing it all. Be patient with me; I’m learning.”

I hate the idea of anyone seeing her like this except me, but there’s nothing I can do right now apart from taking care of her.

“Be patient with me. I’m learning,” she repeats quietly with a hiccup. I continue to wipe under her lashes and her nose to try to ease the puffiness and redness. This feels like my own personal hell. I always thought my worst nightmare would be watching something I could never have, but I was wrong.

It's seeing the thing that heals me hurt and not knowing how to fix it.

As if she senses my thoughts spiraling again, she places her hand over mine and holds it against her mouth, tilting her head into my neck. I was hoping to try that cuddling shit people talk about after our bath, but that’s not bloody happening.

Once I get her comfortable, I know exactly what I’m doing.

I’m making a fucking list. Starting from the assholes watching us now all the way down to whoever has made her this way, and each one is getting the same thing; a pretty red x on their chest.

My little devil will be wanting some new souls anyway.

Twenty-Three

9-3-2024

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