scars aren’t impossible to see. “You want to know what made me a man?” I charge at her and grab her hand within my bloodstained grasp, then run her fingers down the front of my body. Her eyes are locked on my straining cock hanging between my legs. I’m throbbing for her, dripping pre-cum down my thigh with her fingers on me.
“Holy moly,” she whispers. I think she whispers. She says it so soft that I’m not sure if it was an exhale of air or what.
I never thought a woman’s touch could feel so good. I never thought any touch would feel good, but I want these slender fingers to wrap around my shaft. I want her to bite me. I want her to threaten me. I want her to promise harm.
And then I want her to make me come.
“What…” She swallows. “What are those bumps? There are so many.”
“Cigarette burns.”
She gasps in horror and yanks her hand away, but I snatch it and spin around, slapping them onto my lower back. Her hands shake as they glide up my shoulders, then down over the globes of my ass. I whirl around and snatch her wrists in my hands, tightening my fingers around them like cuffs.
A simple flick and I can snap her in half.
“No one touches me there. No one.”
“Why?”
I sneer, bringing my face closer to hers, debating if I want to tell her the truth. I’ve never said the words out loud to anyone besides Sarah. My eyes land on the dried blood on my hands, and I realize it’s the least I can do for Sarah. She’d want me to confide in Daphne.
She leans closer to me, not fighting the hold I have on her wrists, and lays her cheek against my chest. I inhale the sharpest breath when I feel another person against me. I freeze. I don’t know what to do. What do I do?
The air coming out of her nose tickles the hair on my chest. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and a piece of me breaks. I gasp. I can’t seem to find a way to breathe. And then she does something I would never expect.
She lays a kiss in the middle of my chest.
Another piece of me dissolves, and I tilt my head back, my eyes burning with how … intense she’s making me feel.
“My uncle… My parents died in a car accident when I was a kid. He took me in. He … did things to me.” I gulp. “He liked to dress up in women’s clothes, and if I didn’t call him by his female name, he’d make me bend over. He liked to play first. He always told me not to make a sound. It took me a long time to learn to speak because he would burn my tongue.” I stick it out so she can see, and she has tears dripping down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” I ask her, and she nods.
“For you. I’m in pain for you.”
“I killed him when I had the chance. I cut out his tongue. I slit his throat, but living with him changed me. I don’t know how to read or write. I learned how to count because of Sarah and how to write my name, but she’s… I stabbed her because my club found my journals. Since I don’t know how to write, I got really good at drawing, so I’d draw the events of the day, you know? A way for me to express myself. They found them. They thought I put that tongue in your apartment. They thought I’d hurt you. They held me down, and I was reminded of…” I lay her hands on my shoulders, and she slides her fingers down the swell of my arms. The fury building like a raging fire simmers down from her touch. “I only saw my uncle, and I thought I’d stabbed him, but I stabbed her.”
Daphne wraps her arms around my neck, and her eyes are like neon oceans with how bright they are right now. “You only thought you were protecting yourself. Surely, Reaper knows that. I’m sorry all of this happened to you.”
I lift a shoulder, uncaring, but I’m realizing that I care a-fucking-lot. “The last thing any member does is fuck with the ol’ ladies,” I state. “People have been killed for far less than my crime.”
A few moments of silence pass, and she strokes my skin with