Page 89 of Your Sharpest Edge
Alex’s eyes widened with realization. “Bear,” he murmured, almost to himself.
He bolted out of the room, rushing down the hall with surprising urgency. But I stood there, still in shock over this room. He reappeared, slightly out of breath, holding Bear. The worn, beloved stuffed animal looked small in his large hands, but it was exactly what Damien needed.
Alex knelt beside the bed, gently placing Bear into Damien’s waiting arms.
“I saw this hanging out of his bag and put two and two together.”
I smiled. Damien’s little fingers curled around the stuffed animal instantly, his expression relaxing into a peaceful smile. It was a moment of pure tenderness, and seeing Alex so attentiveand caring left me breathless. A sense of peace and security that I hadn’t experienced in a long time surrounded me.
Alex stood up, his gaze lingering on Damien for a moment longer before turning to me. “He’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his voice filled with reassurance.
I nodded, unable to speak as the warmth and love that filled this little room overwhelmed me. Alex had created a sanctuary for Damien, a place where he could feel safe and cherished. And in doing so, he had given me a glimpse of the caring, compassionate man he truly was.
Alex pulled the door shut, making sure it closed softly. “Cole must’ve worn him out with that third piece of pizza,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Who knew he could manage that much?”
I wrapped my hands around his neck the moment he turned around, forcing his head to dip down to mine. “Alex,” I moaned.
He pushed me against the wall. “God. I need you so fucking badly.”
We melded into one. I wanted to ravish him. I wanted to taste every single part of him, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit that I was also fucking terrified.
“I’ve never... been with anyone,” I managed to say between breaths.
He slowly pulled away from me.
“My ex doesn’t count. That wasn’t . . .”
“Mmmm.” He lifted me, grabbing me by the back of my thighs, and walked me to the end of the hallway, pushing open the door. “You told me at the bar, malyshka, that you want to learn everything?”
I blushed as he walked into a bedroom as stark as the furniture in the front room. “Yeah,” I murmured, resting my forehead against his. “There’s so much I’ve missed and want to experience.” I sighed as he lowered me onto the edge of his bed. “Is this silly?” I asked as he sat beside me.
“I want to know every part of you, Anastasia. Even the secrets buried deep inside that no one else knows.”
“I have this... fear.” I huffed out a laugh. “No. I mean, I have a lot of fears, but this one is kind of embarrassing.”
A smirk spread across his face. “You should never feel ashamed around me.” He paused, grazing his finger along my jaw, guiding my gaze to meet his. “Tell me.”
“I just—” I sighed, taking a deep breath. “I feel like so much was taken from me, and there’s still so much I want to explore. I think part of the reason I never committed to anyone was because I was terrified they’d be the only person I’d ever really experience. I want to sleep around, which seems absurd because I also want to be committed to someone. I want to fall in love, I want a family, but my brain also craves this other thing.”
“Tell me what sleeping around means to you,” he asked, his tone curious and nonjudgmental.
“I don’t want to be unhealthy about it, but I want to be with someone I think who’s adventurous. I want to watch other people have sex. I want the safety of being with one person, but I also want to figure out what else I like... together. I want to?—”
“Explore,” Alex finished.
I nodded. “After Dimitri took away that control from me in our marriage, this curiosity developed. At first it freaked me out that I was going completely opposite of what I had in the past, but I learned that it’s normal for women who’ve been victims of domestic violence.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I want to take control over my sexuality because Dimitri took it away from me. I want that power back. I want to feel strong, and it’s taken me this long to even vocalize that I have parts of me that feel unfulfilled and curious.”
“What parts?”
“I’ve always wanted to have a threesome, maybe with another girl, to see if I like that. I don’t know. I know this makes me feel and sound like such a whore?—”
“No.” He shook his head. “What we’re not going to do is call you and your sexual desires whorish.”
I looked down at his marble floors in shame.
