I squeeze the rag in my hand, soap and water landing on my feet.

  She licks away the water on her lips and grabs my hand with the rag and guides it to her collarbone. Slowly, she moves our combined hands over to the other side. I hold my breath when she next moves them down. When her hand falls away, I keep going, feeling her supple flesh through the rag.

  I breathe heavily, my chest aching as I more than wash her breasts, I massage them. The rag slips from my hand, but I don’t bother picking it up. My palm cups the underside, and I glance down, seeing the stark contrast of her pale skin against my tanned hand. Her pebbled nipple is a beautiful deep dusty rose with little bumps around the areola.

  When she lets out a breathy moan, it snaps me out of the trance I’m in.

  What in the fuck am I doing?

  I release her and stumble back a step, horrified by my actions. I know what we are doing is what she wants, but it’s not what she needs. She doesn’t need my dirty hands on her pristine skin. She doesn’t need my vileness touching her, tainting her.

  “Aziah?” The quiver in her voice sends a sharp pain to my sternum.

  I turn around and brace my hands on the wall, dropping my head.

  “I can’t do this,” I say, my voice coming out a guttural whisper.

  “Why?”

  “Because you deserve better. I can’t give you what you need. And because you can’t possibly be ready for what you’re asking.”

  Her hand touches my back, but when I stiffen, it falls away.

  “You’re exactly what I need,” she whispers brokenly. “And I am ready.”

  “No,” I growl back at her. “Please.” I soften my voice. “Just leave.”

  I can feel her heartache radiating off her, and it only intensifies my own pain. A moment later, there’s a rush of cool air as she steps out of the shower, leaving me alone.

  I’m a bastard for hurting her, and I’m a bastard for not giving her what she wants. I shake with the need to give in to her. Despite her past, Rella is pure. She’s beautiful, sweet, caring, and compassionate. The complete opposite of me. There’s nothing I can offer her but dark memories and a bleak future. Hell, it was because of me she cut off a man’s dick today and watched me brutally slaughter him.

  I rear back and slam my fist against the tile, disappointed when my skin stays intact. Hating myself more in this moment than I ever have before.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  RELLA

  I SIT ON THE SIDE OF HIS BED, with the towel wrapped around me. My heart hurts, and I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to get through to him. His guilt consumes him so much he can’t see past it to the amazing future we could have together. I know in my heart Aziah and I are supposed to be together. I’ve always felt a special connection to him, even after our shared Hell Nights. I’ve never thought less of him or felt anything but love and friendship toward him. Why can’t he see that? What can I do to make him believe he is worthy and good enough?

  Tears spill down my cheeks, and I don’t bother to wipe them away. I just let them fall and land on the towel.

  Earlier tonight, after Aziah was done with Mr. Masters, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t realize until that moment that I was still scared of him. That he still held such power over me. It was oddly liberating seeing him suffer and watch the life drain from his eyes.

  Once Aziah and I were in the shower, I knew I was ready for the next step. I’ve been sexually abused for over half of my life, and I know most people would probably need more time before even thinking about becoming intimate with a man. But I’ve always felt safe with him. I know he would stop if I needed him to. I know he would never hurt me. I have absolutely nothing to fear with him.

  I know he feels something for me. Something more than just friendship. I can see it in his eyes when I catch him looking at me. I felt it in his trembling hands as he was washing me tonight. He’s holding back because of his misplaced guilt and his worry that I’m not ready.

  I jerk my head around when the bathroom door opens, and he comes out wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. Our eyes meet, and I’m sure I look like a mess with my eyes red and swollen. His expression contorts painfully, and his legs carry him over to me. He drops to his knees in front of me, his black eyes pleading. I suck in an agonizing breath when I see the tears forming in his eyes.

  “I’m so fucking sorry,” he chokes out. “I’m sorry I’m so fucked up. I’m sorry I can’t be who you want or give you what you want. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, over and fuckin’ over again. I’m sorry my father hurt you. And Marco and Gabriela. And that you hurt yourself. I’m so goddamn sorry about everything, Rella.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I wish I could go back and change things. I wish I had been strong enough to do it back then.”

  My heart drops to my stomach at the pure agony in his words and the way his eyes are glazed over in torment. Before I can reach for him, his head drops to my lap and his arms band around my waist, squeezing me so tightly it’s almost painful. Excruciating pain radiates off him in thick waves. I feel so helpless as he shudders against me, his cries silent but no less meaningful. I hate seeing him so torn up and broken.

  I run my hands soothingly over his back, hoping I’m giving him the comfort he so desperately needs. I don’t know what to do to help him. I don’t know how to take away his pain.

  We stay just as we are for several moments, his arms still wrapped around my waist and shaking. I feather my fingers through his hair, then grip the strands in the back and gently pull his head up so I can see his face. The devastation in his eyes sears my soul.

  “Do you love me?” I ask, my voice raw with emotion.

  “You know I do.”

  “No.” I shake my head and elaborate, needing him to understand. “Do you love me more than just a friend?”

  His Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows. “With everything in me.”

  The pain in my heart lessens.

  “If we didn’t share the past that we do and we were just a man and a woman, would you want to be with me?”

  “I’d never fuckin’ let you go.”

  The way he says those words, the conviction in his tone, I have no doubt they’re true.

  “Would you ever hurt me?”

  “Never!” His words are fierce.

  Leaning forward, I rest my forehead against his, staring deep into his eyes.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  His eyes slide closed, and grief crawls over his expression. He opens them again, scorching me with his intense anguish.

  “Do you think I deserve the love of a man?”

  “Yes.” His voice is strained.

  “Do you want me to be happy, Aziah?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  “More than anything.”

  I breathe in a calming breath. “More than your guilt?” Before he can open his mouth to say anything, I lay a soft kiss against his lips. “You make me happy, Aziah. Only you. You’re my best friend, you make me feel safe and protected, you make me feel cherished and beautiful. There’s no other man out there that could make me feel the way you do. I want to be a normal woman who’s free to love a man in every way possible and have him love me the same way. But I only want those things if I can have them with you. No one else would do.”

  His hands twist against the towel at my lower back, and the way his brows dip low, I know he’s thinking.

  “I’m afraid,” he whispers his fear.

  “Of what?”

  “Of never being good enough for you. Of letting you down or hurting you in some way. I’ve done horrible things to you.”

  I lean back from him and shake my head. “You never did those things. Your father did them. He just used your unwilling body as his weapon. I’ve never ever blamed you. I’ve never thought of you as a monster, and I never feared you or thought you would hurt me on your own. I know you would protect me with your life. Who better is there for me to be with than someone who would give their life for me?”

  The muscles in his throat convulses. “What if you have flashbacks? What if being with me makes everything fresh? I can’t….” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t be the cause of you reliving those times. I already did so when I had you hit me with the belt. That’s something I’ll never forgive myself for.”

  “If that happens, we’ll stop. But, Aziah, I know the difference between what was done to me and what will happen between us. It’s been ten years since the last time I was touched in that way. I know I still have some things to work through. What I want to share with you will be beautiful and pure.”

  His face drops until his forehead meets the center of my chest. Even through the towel, I can feel his hot breath as he breathes deeply. When he lifts his head and his eyes meet mine, his expression is different, some of the torment gone. His hands slide up my back, over my shoulders, until he’s cupping my cheeks. He stares at me for several seconds before he slowly leans forward. The moment his lips meet mine, I release a sigh.

  He kisses me softly, reverently, like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he never wants to stop. I’m fine with that, because I never want him to stop either.

  I move my hands over his biceps and rest them on his shoulders, enjoying the strong muscles underneath smooth skin. The towel I have tucked closed between my breasts loosens and falls to my lap. Goose bumps race down my arms, and I suddenly feel lightheaded.

  I break my mouth away from his. His eyes move down to my naked chest and they flare with so much heat, it takes my breath away. They fly back up to mine.

  “Are you sure?” he asks huskily.

  “Because it’s with you, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  “Swear to me, Rella,” he implores adamantly, holding my cheeks so I’m forced to look at him. “I need you to promise me we’ll stop if you become uncomfortable.”

  “I promise.”

  He blows out a harsh breath, then dips his eyes back down. His hands leave my cheeks and travel a slow path down to my breasts. His eyes flare with desire as he grazes his fingertips down the slopes to my hard nipples. They pucker even more, as if begging him for more attention.

  Flutters form in my stomach when he dips his head and swirls his tongue around the areola. I lace my fingers through his hair and tilt my head to the side, watching him ravish my breast. He’s gentle and attentive, and it makes me feel precious and worshiped.

  He kisses a path from one breast to the other, giving it the same tender treatment. When he lifts his head, his lips glistening, I lean forward and kiss him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press myself against him, then moan as his warm chest meets mine. He wraps me in his embrace, and I marvel at how right it feels to be here with him like this.

  I spread my legs and scoot closer to the edge of the bed until I feel the heat of him between my thighs. It’s not enough. I want to feel all of him against all of me.

  With our mouths still fused together, I push off the bed and settle on his lap, my legs on either side of his. He’s forced to sit back on his heels. My center meets something hard and warm through his briefs that elicits a long moan from me.

  His head lifts, and his worried gaze meets mine.

  “We don’t have to go all the way yet. We can wait and just… explore each other.”

  I tighten my legs around him, pushing even more firmly against his shaft, and he hisses out a breath.

  “I don’t need to wait,” I say breathlessly. “I want this. As long as you do too.”

  He groans, and I feel him jump underneath me. “I want you so fuckin’ badly I can barely breathe.”

  “Then make love to me, Aziah.” I exhale the words against his lips.

  Cupping my bottom, he gets to his feet, bringing me with him with my legs still wrapped around his waist. Setting a knee on the bed, he carefully lays me down.

  “You’ll never convince me that I deserve you.” He settles on top of me. “But you were right; there’s not a man alive I trust to take care of you like I will or who will love you as much as I do.”

  The back of my eyes prick, but I push the need to cry away, not wanting to ruin the moment with pesky tears.

  “I love you,” he murmurs, making my heart soar with happiness.

  He drops a kiss against my lips that steals all of my breath by the time he pulls back and makes his way down my throat. I moan and clutch his hard shoulders, my head tilted back as he makes love to my breasts with his mouth.

  “You’re so beautiful.” I open my eyes and look down to find his bottomless black ones. “I don’t know why God deemed it okay for me to have you, but I swear, Rella, you’ll only know happiness for the rest of your life.”

  I slide my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the thick strands. “As long as I’m with you, there’s no way I could be anything but happy.”

  I loosen my legs around his waist when he sits up and gets off the bed. He grabs the waistband of his briefs and slowly slides them down his legs. Almost every inch of his body is covered in beautiful ink. I could look at him for days and never get tired of the view.

  My gaze gets snared on his erection when it bobs free. He’s long and thick, the head flared wider than the rest with a bead of clear liquid at the tip.

  Anxious jitters form in my stomach, and I bit my lip.

  “Rella,” he calls, and my eyes jump to his worried ones. “If I ever hurt you, it would destroy me. Sex isn’t a necessity. I can wait for as long as you need, even if that means forever.”

  I get to my knees in front of him, resting my hands on his lower stomach. His abs ripple beneath my touch.

  Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I stare up at him. “It’s not that. I just….” My eyes slide away from him, but he doesn’t let me off the hook.

  “Talk to me.”

  “Can I….” I lift my eyes. “Can I touch you?”

  His groan is deep and kinda growly, and I find I really like the sound.

  He grabs my hand and wraps my fingers around his length. In the shower earlier, I only got to touch him for a moment before he pulled away. Now, I take my time as I slide my palm up and down his erection. Smooth like silk, but hard like steel.

  He tips his head back, his eyes closed and his lips parted. I love the pleasure on his face, knowing it’s because of what I’m doing.

  I slide my hand from the base all the way to the tip, then back again, my knuckles bumping his testicles.

  “Your touch is like fuckin’ magic,” he rumbles gruffly, tipping his head back down. He gently takes my hand off him. “This will end in only seconds if you don’t stop.”

  Blushing, I smile, his words making my insides squirm.

  “Lie down, beautiful.”

  I do as he says and lie back on the covers. He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over me, his erection bobbing between us.

  The first time we took a shower together, I was surprised by my lack of embarrassment at him seeing me naked. Other than my childhood and my time with Marco and Gabriela, no one has seen me without my clothes on. The only explanation I can think of is because it’s Aziah. He makes me feel so safe I’m able to do things I normally wouldn’t feel comfortable doing.

  Unconsciously, my mind wanders to Aziah’s concerned words about me having flashbacks. If I’m honest with myself, a part of me worried too. My only experience with sex has been painful. Would my mind go back to those horrible times in the Hall? Would I see his father’s face? Would my body freeze with terror as I thought about what Gabriela and Marco did to me?

  Surprisingly, none of that has happened. My mind is firmly planted in the present. It’s just me and Aziah in this room right now. The ghosts of our pasts are exactly where they should be; in our pasts.

  I don’t know why God has made it possible for Aziah and me to experience this part of our relationship so soon, but I’m grateful.

  He rests on one elbow, his fingers skimming down my ribs. My breath hitches when he makes it to my hip and moves south to the crease of my legs. My heart beats loudly in my ears, and my stomach does somersaults as I wait in anticipation.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” he requests, his jaw muscles tense. His fingers don’t move again until I nod.

  Feather-soft and unhurried, his fingers graze the outside of my lower lips. I want to close my eyes and toss my head back in euphoric bliss, but I keep them open on Aziah. I know he needs to see my reaction, to ensure himself I’m okay.

  His fingers hit something that has my breath catching and my hips jerking in shock. I’ve never felt anything like it and I want more.

  “Oh, God,” I pant. “That feels…. More. I need more.”

  If possible, his eyes darken, filling with something I can only call profound pleasure. He swirls his fingers against the same spot, and it sends sparks of electricity through me.

  I almost whimper when he removes them, but then he dips a finger inside me and it makes me forget what he was doing before. It feels foreign, him pushing his finger inside me, but no less amazing. I never in my life knew you could feel so much pleasure from someone touching you intimately. Of course, my painful introduction to sex probably skewed my views on it.

  He pulls his finger out and replaces it with two. As he works them in and out of me, his thumb moves to the same special spot as before. I cry out, my eyes widening. I shift my hips, needing more of whatever he’s doing.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

  I have no doubt in my mind, so I give my answer immediately.

  “Yes.”

  He takes his fingers away and settles his hips more firmly between my legs. A rushed breath escapes me when his shaft bumps against my soft folds. He stays on one elbow and reaches between us. The head of his cock pokes at my entrance, before he stops, his eyes falling closed.

  I lay my hand against his cheek, hating the look of uncertainty on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His tortured eyes meet mine. “I’m so fuckin’ scared of hurting you.”

  Lifting my head, I lay a kiss against his lips. “You won’t.”

 

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