“No!”

With every smack, I tried to restrain her arms, but she managed to pull away. It was pissing me off. The moment I had a hold of her, I walked her back into the wall and pinned her there.

“Calm down,” I growled.

“Say it!” she cried out.

I closed my eyes and let out a shuddered breath as I fisted her hair.

“I want you,” I said before crashing my lips to hers.

I told her. Not everything, but more than she could even fathom. What I used to do, what followed me, and the empty life I led.

Anger fueled revelations, spewing emotion based words at each other. Snippets of her damaged past, of those who harmed her, but it was only the surface. The scars they laid were so much deeper than she let on.

I knew, because we were a matched set of empty landscape. Neither living nor dead.

The darkness grew, overpowering, taking us both over as our pasts exploded out in a cathartic release.

What followed was an emotional power play with our bodies, and for the first time, Lila took control.

She forced me to feel, to confront and accept, to understand that even if I only mattered to one person, my life had meaning.

In return, I made her feel how good my cock could feel in her ass.

CHAPTER 19

When Lila slept with me, she was out. A complete and deep sleep that lasted through the night. After our confessions and admissions, things changed.

Her sleep wasn’t as smooth. I would wake to her normally still body jerking. Deep dreams that led to restless nights. She never woke, but as I stared down at her, there was no way I could let her continue to sleep.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her arms covering her face against an invisible attacker.

“Lila,” I whispered as I shook her. No response. I tried again, the volume of my voice increasing with each attempt.

Worry overtook me, my shaking increasing.

She shot up, gasping, her eyes unfocused.

I’d never seen her like that. The sheer terror, being held captive in a dream I couldn’t wake her from.

She ran, stumbling her way to the bathroom, the sound of her heaving echoing around the tile walls.

I knew my own reaction to night terrors, and I watched from the doorway. Her small frame shook, trembling so hard it was visible from the hairs on her head down to her toes.

I was very familiar with the bodily effects of nightmares, at least the panicked throwing up. The other side was the mentality she was left with once her heart stopped trying to beat out of her chest.

It took a few minutes for her to calm down enough to stand, and it was hard to keep myself from rushing forward to help her. She wobbled over to the sink and began brushing her teeth. I followed slowly, making sure there were no sudden movements.

She hadn’t looked at me yet. The closer I got, the tighter her muscles became. I watched her closely as her breath sped up, her movements faster as the shaking increased.

“Lila?”

There was no response, no inkling of recognition that she heard me.

“Lila.”

With her head still down she turned and tried to maneuver around me. I threw my arm out in front of her. I had to pull her out.

“Lila!” I yelled out.

She flinched, her eyes glued to the ground, refusing to look at me as she stepped back. Small steps until her back hit the wall.

It was the conditioning her family put her through. She was trapped in memories, locked in a state of fear.

“Lila?” I lowered my voice, aiming for as gentle and soothing as I could. There was a pause, then I took a step toward her.

Her harsh breaths stopped, her body frozen on the spot.

What the fuck did they do to her?

If she was that afraid, her childhood was much worse than she’d ever let on. I wondered if she even had the ability to talk about it. Her body may not have been riddled with scars like mine, but it was obvious to me she suffered much physical abuse over a long period of time.

“Lila?” I coaxed again.

I reached out, and the anger of what they’d done to her spiked as she tensed. She was bracing for the pain. I hooked my fingers under her chin to raise it so I could look at her, but she pushed back, refusing.

A growl left my chest, anger filling me. If I ever met who hurt her, there would be hell to pay. I trailed my hand down her jaw and around to the base of her neck before fisting her hair and tugging.

Finally, our eyes met, and an ache seeped into my chest. The absolute fear that looked back at me was devastating. I waited for her to see me, waited for her eyes to clear, for any flicker of recognition. To bring her back to the present and pull her from the ghosts that clawed at her.

Long, hard beats of my heart I used to count, waiting as the number increased, and still she was gone. It was more than two minutes before the fog began to lift. Her body was the first to remember as her chest rose, bowing into me.

It was my cue, and I pulled her to me, her whole body relaxing into mine.

My touch brought her back. My body against hers.

The beast purred.

I pressed my lips to her, my tongue prying her mouth open. When the last resistance left her, so did my own. I pushed her against the wall, my hands gripped her body, my fingers dug in as I claimed her mouth.

When I pulled back for breath, our eyes locked. I released her hair and brushed the loose strands from her face.

“Tell me.”

Her eyes slipped back into the fear-filled frenzy, looking anywhere but me, looking for a way out. I gripped her jaw and brought her attention back to me.

“It’s just you and me. Now, tell me.”

“A dream,” she whispered. “It was just a nightmare, that’s all.”

I let out a sigh, making the decision that going back to bed wasn’t going to work. She remained all over the place, and until I got her to fully let go, the night wasn’t going to get any better.

I stepped away and she gasped, her hands reaching for me.

It stabbed at me. I knew she was broken, but the depth was deeper than I imagined.

“Come on.”

She was wound so tightly, and I knew one way to relax her. I reached in to turn on the shower, my hand waving under it, waiting for the warmth to make its way through the pipes.

I jumped at her hands on my skin, on my scars. I couldn’t remember the last time someone touched them, and the caress of her fingers was feather light.

I let her continue, but it was difficult knowing her attention was solely focused on my battered skin. When the water turned warm, I grabbed her hand and moved her in front of me.