Page 18 of Lord of Punishment

His heart was beating as rapidly as mine, our excitement only growing with each passing second. He was dominating, refusing to allow me any control. I’d never wanted anything or anyone so badly as I did at this moment. There was no rhyme or reason, no rationality but at this moment, I didn’t care.

As if sensing I was letting go completely, Sabatino broke the kiss, issuing a husky, dark, and dangerous sound that would linger in my mind for nights to come. He was telling me in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. There was no reason to talk, no need to discuss what was happening between us. This was pure carnal need, our most primal desires rushing to the surface. Eyes I’d already become lost in more than once suddenly seemed like a raging storm, so dark they were obsidian in color. If they were an entrance to his soul, his was black, devoid of anything but absolute power.

He tore off my shirt, tossing it over the shower rod to the floor. A slight grin crossed his face as he growled a second time, the sound reverberating into every heated cell, every tense muscle. As he swept his gaze down to my breasts, he issued a slight demonic laugh. I shuddered from the sound, the hunger burning deep within.

I’d never felt so much fire, the flames licking at every part of me breathtaking. He rolled my hands over my shoulders, lowering my bra straps.

“No!” I said automatically, my heart racing.

He cocked his head, ceasing all movement.

I wasn’t stopping him because I didn’t want him to touch or taste me. I was preventing him from seeing the horrible scar I’d been left with.

“I frighten you,” he said in such a kind and genuine voice that I was thrown.

“Not really.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m ugly.” The words slipped past my lips before I could stop them. I was lucky in that where the bastard had cut me hadn’t disfigured my face, but that didn’t mean the thought of another man discovering and touching what I’d allowed to happen to me didn’t hurt.

Or dredge up terrible memories.

I closed my eyes, hating the sound of my ragged breathing. Turning my head, I did what I could to keep from crying. The bastard had won. I’d promised myself that he would never manage to hurt me ever again, yet the horrible man and his control remained.

“Look at me, Georgia.”

I shook my head, a cold chill drifting down my spine.

Very gently, he eased my head from the side. “Look at me. Please.”

His voice held no condemnation, no tone of fury. I finally opened my eyes, immediately drawn to his heated gaze. “You are beautiful. Let me see.”

“It’s nothing.”

When he started to take the straps down again, he hesitated long enough to allow me to gather strength and courage. And to nod my agreement. I couldn’t allow my entire life to be entwined with terror. I’d wanted so much to live, to enjoy and take a few chances as I used to do when I was alive. This stranger, this handsome kind stranger might allow me to taste something special if only for a few minutes. I had to risk it. I had to live. I would live.

“As I said, nothing about you is ugly, sweet Georgia. You are perhaps the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

For the first time in so very long, I felt beautiful, as if nothing and no one could ever make me feel ugly and worthless again.

His eyes locked onto mine the moment he exposed my breasts as if asking one time only if what he was doing was acceptable. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He took that as a yes, cupping my breasts and squeezing with his rugged hands.

Every move tender and slow, thoughtful and gentle, he touched the jagged scar that would always be a constant reminder of the nightmare I’d survived.

But one I continued to have.

His breathing became more labored as he studied the scar almost as if memorizing it. But instead of asking a barrage of question, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against it. I struggled to breathe, fighting another wave of tears.

“Perfect. Exquisite,” he muttered.

A smile finally crossed my face, the sense of feeling alive washing through me so unexpectedly that I was lost in a fabulous moment where the nightmares didn’t exist. He licked the scar, dragging his tongue up and down and I could feel it. My nerve endings weren’t dead. No, I was here and alive and feeling excitement. God, I wanted this man, sin or no sin. I didn’t care.

I threw my head back, the heated stream of water flowing down and over me, splashing beads of water on the powerful man. The strangled cry I let out was a telling moment, exposing the vulnerable side of me. As he pinched my nipples, twisting them relentlessly, stars fluttered in front of my eyes and I bit back another cry.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, chuckling darkly after saying the single word. “Perfect.”

Perfect. I was far from it, a woman destroyed by her past, unable to think about a future. For so many crazy, horrible reasons, tears suddenly formed in my eyes, but I refused to succumb to the heartache, instead surrendering to my needs.

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