Pim deserved better than that.
“I want to be your friend because of everything you’ve done.” Her breath turned papery; her eyes never leaving my mouth. “I want to get to know you.”
My ears took her sentence and rearranged the letters into something I wanted to hear rather than what she’d said. I heard ‘I want you to kiss me’. Even as her true words echoed behind it. Even as my hands shot forward and captured her cheeks. Even as my mouth descended on hers and my tongue tore past the soft, sweet obstruction of her lips.
Her hands captured my wrists—the same way she’d done before. Already a habit where we were concerned. She held on. Her nails dug in. But she didn’t squirm or fight. She opened to my invasion. She turned from stiff to pliant. She moaned.
I fucking lost it.
My fingers turned to shackles, holding her tight as I pushed her backward. Faster and faster, neither looking nor caring where we were going. I just needed her against something. I needed her trapped. I needed to press and thrust and feel her against me with nowhere to run.
She danced backward, her breath heating my cheeks, her tongue licking mine, matching my urgency until she slammed against something and then she was still.
I pressed my entire length against her, giving her no apology or warning as I grinded my erection into her taut belly.
Somewhere in my mind, I waited for her to scream and beg. To fall to her knees. To shut down and check out.
She did none of those things.
She kissed me back.
Fuck, she kissed me back.
It was as if the girl I’d rescued had vanished and in her place stood a stranger. A girl who kissed with recklessness born of the same desperation inside me. Kissed with the same infection I suffered as if unable to understand how she’d become so sick but desperate for a cure.
She was me.
I was her.
And goddammit, the kiss turned feral with urgency.
I groaned as she arched her hips into mine. She moaned as I bit her bottom lip, not sheathing my teeth or remembering to be gentle.
She matched me crazy to crazy, and for a second, I let go. I felt the obsession. I lived the aggression. I almost tripped into the place I could never go.
Wrenching myself back, I stumbled away. Rubbing my mouth, I hated that her taste infused with mine, fogging my mind until all I could focus on was my heartbeat and how much I wanted her.
She mimicked me, pressing fingers to red lips, her eyes wild and scared, her face white with shock. She looked like she did when I was inside her just before she’d broken into sobs.
“Fuck.” I breathed hard. “Once again, I didn’t mean to do that.” I backed up farther, then circled around her, heading into my suite. I needed a door to lock—a barricade between us so she was safe.
The bathroom would do. I’d take that shower. I’d rid myself of my desire. I’d remember who I was.
“Wait.” Pim stepped into the room, darting forward on tiny feet. “Don’t go.”
I froze, turning to face her. “But I just hurt you. Again.”
She looked at the floor, wringing her hands. “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t what? Kiss you? Slam you against the wall and try to fucking crawl inside you?”
She shivered. “I mean, yes, you did those things—”
“Exactly.” I bowed stiffly. “In that case, good night, Pim. Get the hell out of my quarters.”
She moved forward, holding up her hand. “No, wait. You did do those things, but you didn’t hurt me. I-I wanted them.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“I kissed you back. You had to have felt that.” Her cheeks pinked. “I’m sick and tired of being afraid of passion when you live and breathe passion every day. You were hurting. I wanted to give you something—”
“Wait.” It was my turn to hold up my hand. “So you kissed me out of charity?” I didn’t know what was worse—trying to blow me to keep her or bestow a kiss to make me feel better.
Fuck!
“It wasn’t like that. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted it just as much for me as I did for you.”
My temper unfurled like a sword from its scabbard. “You pity me now you’ve met my mother and heard how unwanted I am by those I love.”
“What? No?” She shook her head. “That isn’t the—”
“You think you understand me now, is that it?” I balled my hands, pacing around her. “You think you can judge me, read me? Know what goes on inside my goddamn head?” Stopping in front of her, I growled, “You know more about me than you should, Pim. And I know nothing about you. That isn’t fair, nor is it part of our agreement.”
She turned on the spot, keeping her gaze locked on mine. “You’re mistaken. I don’t know a thing about you.”
I smiled coldly. “You know more than you should.”
“I’d know more if you told me.”
I laughed. “Never going to happen.”
The itch to play my cello hijacked my fingers. I’d trained myself enough to know when I was borderline, and I sought out music rather than a new obsession. Pim was right to expect me to be playing. It was time. I needed her gone. Before I did something I regretted.
Stalking toward the bedside table where I kept a pre-rolled joint in case of emergencies, I fumbled in my pocket for my lighter. Holding the weed to my lips, I lit the end and inhaled. Hard.
A flash of grey and black appeared then my marijuana salvation vanished from my fingers. “What the fuck?”
“Stop.” Pim held the smoking joint. “Talk to me. You’re hurting. You should talk to someone.”
“Talk?” I looked at the ceiling and laughed. “Again, you want to talk.”
“Yes, I think—”
Grabbing her, I tossed her onto my bed. “When I’m in this headspace, Pim, the last thing I want to do is fucking talk.”
Chapter Fourteen
______________________________
Pim
HE CLIMBED ON top of me, wedging me against his mattress as his scent from his sheets rose up the meet the scent from his skin.
The wildness in his eyes terrified me.
The smoking weed in my fingers could set fire to the bed if I let go.
A panic attack from my years at the white mansion swivelled into being, begging me to let go and disappear. To leave this physical plane and return only once he’d finished with my body.
Every other time, I would listen. I would fall. I would leave. But there was something about Elder and the pain tainting everything around him that kept me there, that locked me to the present.
I didn’t move as his lips sought mine again. I didn’t cry out as his hand found my breast and squeezed. And I didn’t scream as his leg wedged between my thighs to press against my core.
I stayed frozen beneath him, forcing myself to remember the coal burn of lust I’d enjoyed from kissing him on the deck. How wonderful it’d been to let go and just accept the kiss, to bestow one back, to allow heat and liquid to course through me with the promise of one day being whole enough to enjoy more.