even fuckin’ better.”
Oh my.
Um.
What do you say to something like that?
I lick my lips and snuggle into him rather than giving him a response. There’s no way I can actually put words together right now. No way. My head is fogged by the Isaac enhanced orgasm he’d given me.
A whimper of protest escapes my parted lips when he slips out of me. Isaac rolls me to my back and I meet his gaze.
My heart stills in my chest at the ink color of his eyes. There’s something to be said about it but I’m not sure what to make of it. I mean I’ve wanted this man to be mine for years and now here he is holding me in his arms.
“We gotta talk, Amaya,” he announces, and my heart begins to race once again. God knows when it comes to this man it can’t make up its mind on whether or not it wants to beat rapidly or if it wants to stop working altoghether. At least it hasn’t plummeted to my belly yet. If that happens, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“Okay, but um, would it be possible to have coffee?” I ask, unsure if I can handle any kind of heavy without coffee. It’s one of the few pleasures in life I allow myself. With a little sugar it’s the best thing ever.
“Yeah, Sweetness, we can do this over coffee.” He grins and leans down, presses his mouth to mine for a chaste but still hot kiss.
I’m in trouble when it comes to him.
Yep, that’s a guaranteed truth. I can’t deny it. He could ask me to do just about anything and I’d do it for him. Because he’s Isaac and my heart, without him knowing, has been his for four years.
Climbing out of bed, I go into his bathroom and quickly do my thing. I open the door and come face to chest with Isaac though where I’m naked he’s standing there in front of me in a pair of loose fitting sweatpants.
His hands come to my hips and I do my best not to flinch when he touches one of the deeper scars.
“These are one of the things we’ll be discussing, Amaya, so don’t think you’ll get out of talking about them. It’s happening,” he announces, and there goes my heart sinking straight to my stomach.
Closing my eyes, I nod my head. I can’t think of the disgust he’ll feel toward me once he finds out.
¡qué mierda de vida!
Isaac gives me a grand total of ten minutes to get coffee into my system before he started in on me with his demands.
“Time to talk, Sweetness. First things first, I need you to tell me about the scars on your back,” he mutters quietly.
How I wish Lincoln would wake up right about now?
Sighing, I lean back in the chair I’m sitting in and lift my feet up putting them on the seat. I wrap my arms around them and begin.
“When I was a kid, my mom would cheat on my dad. She would send me off on an errand or whatever while she did this. One day my dad came home early and found out about what was going on. He blamed me for not telling him. Said my mother wouldn’t stray if I were home. So this started the whippings. But they weren’t just the ones you get with a belt, no, I had switches as well. Sometimes he’d get one that had thorns on it. Other times he’d use his belt and not the side without the metal. The deepest scars come from the thorns and the piece on the belt that goes through the holes.
“My mom took this as her way of getting to do what she wanted. She didn’t care I would be punished for her actions. Guess you can say I became her whipping boy or in my case girl,” I say, taking a moment to close my eyes.
“Sweetness,” Isaac mutters but I shake my head. He wants to know so I’ll give it to him. Then he can make his decision on if he can handle all my scars.
“I don’t eat meat because my mom screwed up yet again, but since this had to do with the kitchen, my dad shoved raw hamburger into my mouth. I was forced to eat it since he covered my mouth with tape. This was my life until I turned eighteen. Emilia and I left home and got the apartment we lived in together.