Page 64 of Redemption

When he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out, and hot cum lashes my belly and thighs. The rain immediately begins to sluice it away, erasing his mark. The loss draws a soft cry from my chest.

He cups my cheek and studies my face like I’m his greatest treasure. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I promise, placing my hand atop his to anchor him to me. “You didn’t hurt me.”

And now, I’m sure that he never will.

18

DANE

Two Weeks Later

Ican hardly believe that Abigail willingly sleeps in my bed and welcomes me into her body every night. Only a few weeks ago, that seemed like an impossibility. After the crash—when she’d tried so desperately to get away from me—I’d been determined to keep her. But I hadn’t been sure if she would give herself to me ever again.

My sweet, compassionate Abigail still wants me. It wasn’t my mastery of her body that made her surrender; it was my vulnerability. Raw honesty.

I’ll answer any question she asks of me if it means more intimacy with the woman who is my everything.

Her birth control shot should be effective by now, so I won’t have to use the precaution of condoms anymore. The feeling of her wet cunt gripping my cock when I claimed her in the rain was the most exquisite ecstasy of my life.

She didn’t ask where I obtained the shot, and I chose not to tell her about the delivery. I think we’re both avoiding difficult topics.

Like the fact that I won’t allow her to leave me. I won’t risk her running to a driver to ask them for rescue.

She seems completely absorbed in her work, shutting herself away in her studio for hours every day. It wasn’t difficult to get the shot delivered while she was painting. I have the necessary professional documentation to obtain what I wanted. The arrangement was easy enough.

And it’ll be well worth it when I get to fuck her without the barrier of a condom separating us.

We haven’t engaged in anything more than slightly rough sex since that day in the rain, but I know she needs more. I worry that she’s not ready to accept the darker things we both enjoy, but I can tell she’s not fully satisfied. I’ve seen Abigail when she’s utterly spent and sated, and I’m determined to make her that blissful again.

I have a plan in place to coax her darkness back to the surface, but that will have to wait for tomorrow.

No matter what happens, I will not force her again. She’ll get her safe word back, and I will honor it.

I’ll do anything to keep her trust.

“Dane?”

I’m rushing toward her studio without hesitation. She doesn’t sound distressed, but I can’t help feeling on edge whenever she’s out of my sight. After the crash…

I shake off the bloody memories and focus on her sunny smile.

“I’m fine,” she promises, reading the worry that lingers around my brow. “I want to show you something.”

She steps back, inviting me into her private haven.

For a moment, I falter. The last time she showed me something in her studio, it was her horrific self-portrait. That confrontation had shredded me. These last two weeks together have been so wonderfully easy. I don’t want to go through another difficult conversation like that.

“Don’t worry,” she soothes. “It’s nothing bad. Well, I hope you think they’re good. I’ve been working really hard, and I’m feeling so inspired. But they’re nothing special. I like them, though. What do you think?”

She steps back, revealing three small impressionist paintings. One is still on the easel, and the other two are propped against the wall on either side of it.

“Abigail,” I breathe.

“I know they’re not masterpieces or anything,” she rushes to downplay her art. “But it’s just so beautiful here, and I wanted to try to capture it. They’re silly. I don’t plan to frame them or anything like that. They’re just for me. But I wanted to show you.”

“Abigail.” Her name is a quiet interruption this time. She’s babbling because she’s anxious about my reaction, but I’m speechless.

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