A Cut so Deep - Dani Rene Page 0,57
skin, watching in awe at the crimson trickling from the cut. Biting pain shoots through me. My lungs finally feel as if they’re working as they pull in enough air to offer serenity. And my mind is cleared of the memory that has been haunting me since I first saw Damien Thorne.
I don’t want to admit his words hurt. But I’m here because this is how I deal with the emotional war that’s raging inside me. Even though I know it’s not only about him, my cuts run deeper than I’ve ever admitted. And I just don’t know how to find relief anyway else.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m still a little girl who wants her mother to be proud of her. It only hurts for a second, before I need one more just to clear the tension in my muscles. The water steals my evidence, and it rushes down the drain, along with my guilty tears.
I drop my head back against the wall, and I close my eyes. Those blue eyes haunt me. They remind me of what I can never have. The moment he has to admit his feelings to the world, he’ll realize I’m too young, and he’s my stepbrother.
Suddenly, the door bursts open, breaking on the hinges, and Damien stands there, looking like he’d just fought through an army to get to me. My heart surges, coming to life and thudding wildly against my chest. The lump in my throat thickens when his gaze lands on the blade in my hand, and more guilt washes over me.
He doesn’t wait. He races toward me, where I’m drenched. With one shove, he pushes the glass door so hard, I’m surprised it didn’t shatter. But that’s just Damien, a controlled storm.
When he enters a room, people fall at his feet simply because he graced them with his presence. And I am the one who keeps fighting the need to be one of those admirers.
He glowers, the rage that’s simmering through him right now is reaching boiling point as he looks at me. The blue igniting to the true shade of an open flame. They say that pure hydrocarbons burn with a blue flame, and that’s what his eyes look like right now, searing me.
“Get out of the shower.” His words are stern, filled with frustration. Slowly, I push up, still holding onto the small, silver blade. “Get. Out. Of. The. Shower.” The hint of barely restrained rage drips from every word. When I step out onto the rug, Damien rushes forward and wraps me in a fluffy towel. I expect him to shout at me. To curse and scream, but all he does is lean in, so his mouth is at my ear. “Get on the bed and wait for me,” he orders, in a gruff voice that I’ve come to recognize as Damien not needing me to argue.
The no-nonsense tone sends sparks of awareness through me. I’m in trouble. His fists clench, and his expression is wrought with frustration and anger at my actions. I don’t blame him. If the tables were turned, I’d feel the same, and guilt slowly morphs into a heavy weight in my stomach.
My heart is kicking against my ribs, needing an escape because, with every interaction with Damien, it wants him more and more.
He releases me, and I pad slowly into the bedroom, which is warmer than I anticipated. I slide up onto the mattress and lie back. I’m not sure if I should put clothes on, but for some reason, I just want to obey Damien.
It doesn’t take him long to join me. He’s still in boxers, as he walks to the foot of the bed. Silence hangs overhead, heavy and resounding. Guilt grips me, and so do his hands. He takes hold of my ankles and spreads my legs lewdly. The towel falls away, and all that’s left is me. Bared. Not only my body, but my heart and soul.
The glare he rakes over me makes me blush, as embarrassment burns my cheeks. He looks furious. It seems his two default settings when he’s around me are angry and horny—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
He tugs me down the mattress, earning him a squeak of surprise. And then my legs are hanging over the edge, while my top half is still on the soft mattress. I expect him to spank me or shout at me, but that’s not what happens next.
His knee comes up between