How soothing.
I may not have much experience with them, but I’m finding they’re warm and secure, and I feel like I could sleep without nightmares if Rand’s arms are around me.
Chapter 7
Rand
It’s barely seven in the morning. I don’t need to open the shop for three hours, but I have important shit to do. I slip quietly out of my apartment, leaving Cat sleeping in my bed. I hope she continues to sleep for hours to come because I know she’s exhausted. Not only did I completely wear her body out last night, but also after she told me about that shit with her motherfucking-dead-but-want-to-kill-him-again husband, we stayed up and talked. Eventually, I settled us back down and pulled her close to me. Her body fit against mine naturally, and it felt better than right.
I may spend a lot of time at a sex club, but I’m not one of these guys with emotional barriers who uses no-strings sex as a way to keep women at arm’s length. I’m an actual snuggler to the core. I don’t care if it’s a one-night stand or the love of your life. After sex, there’s nothing better than spooning and drifting off to sleep.
So tucking Cat into me felt natural. I didn’t give it a second thought. I just held her tight and we talked until she could get it all out.
Have to say, I admire the fuck out of that girl. She didn’t shed a tear even though I could hear in her voice how disgusting it was for her to relay that stuff to me. She’s tough as nails and it’s true what I said… she did what she had to do to survive.
As she opened up more to me, it practically killed me to hear her own self-loathing for getting herself caught in Samuel’s web. I asked her—because I had to or it would kill me not knowing—why she stayed with him, and it boiled down to fear and doubt. Samuel preyed upon the perfect woman for his sick plans. He showed Cat how good it felt to live with the comforts we all take for granted. A soft bed, a warm home. Food in her stomach. She told me he’d often go weeks ignoring her, and during those times, her life was fine. She lived it as she wanted, so she reasoned to herself it was a penance she could handle.
I thought penance was an interesting word for her to use, and I had to wonder why she thought of herself as a sinner. Personally, I think she’s an angel. And while she never came out and said it, I got the feeling that Cat was fearful of Samuel. Not sure if he threatened her, or implied he’d do something, but Cat had said something to the effect of “for my safety, it was best to just toe the line”.
Regardless, our talk came around to The Silo again, and I gently prodded at her as to why she continued to go there once Samuel died. “You were free,” I told her. “Why come back to the place he made you do those things?” Where he got his fucking saggy nuts off—metaphorically speaking since he couldn’t get his little dick up—watching his wife get fucked over and over again by multiple men.
Burns me the fuck up. Don’t get me wrong… a good gang bang when a woman is consenting and receiving pleasure from the depravity of it all is awesome, but the thought of Cat doing it and not enjoying it… not sure I can handle that thought.
What she told me about that left me unsettled. Not sure if I’m supposed to feel good or bad about it, but it’s weighing on my mind.
When I asked her why she still came back after Samuel died, she was quiet a moment, and I wondered if she was remembering back to a few nights after his death. She was at The Silo and told Bridger that Samuel was dead. He, in turn, let a select few of us know. We circled her protectively, wondering what she wanted and how we could help ease her sadness. She ended up choosing several men to fuck her—present company excluded. This wasn’t all that unusual, as there are, after all, many men from which she could have picked.
At any rate, she went into one of the rooms that housed a stockade Bridger had built. After she was locked up tight, she took cock after cock with a satisfied smile on her face. It was one of the hottest things I’d seen and I thought she needed it to take her mind off her sadness.
Turns out… she was celebrating, and she told me as much in answer to the question I had posed.
“Because sometimes I liked it,” she admitted in a soft voice.
I think she was ashamed, so I validated her. “There’s a lot to like about The Silo, babe,” I told her in a firm but gentle voice. “Sex there can be exhilarating and beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with what we do there.”
I felt the movement of her nodding in agreement. “Many times, I loved it… loved the rush and the feeling of being wanted. I don’t fake my orgasms, so you know I’m turned on by much of that stuff. But I also hated a lot of stuff.”