Page 20 of Damaged

His kisses intensified after that, and it was all I could do to keep up. Thankfully, my body’s instincts kicked in and I started to tilt my head one way when he went the other, letting our mouths meld together more easily. I met him kiss for kiss, or at least I hoped I did, so when his big hand closed over the back of my head to pull me closer to him, I happily went. His tongue managed to steal between my lips a few times when I opened my mouth to suck in some much-needed air. It should have disgusted me, but it didn’t, and I knew there were so many things I was still missing out on.

I was lightheaded when Dalton finally pulled his lips from mine and put a few inches between our bodies that had somehow ended up mashed together. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around me. I was dimly aware of the sleeves of my shirt being eased over my wrists. I was very aware of how hard my dick had gotten in my cold, damp pants.

“Lift your arms,” Dalton said softly.

I obeyed without hesitation and did what he wanted. Maybe he’d kiss me again when he was done.

There was no kiss but instead the feel of his sweatshirt sliding over my chest like the most delicious waterfall.

“Get in the car, sweetheart,” Dalton said. His voice was stiff and hoarse.

It was so different from the way he’d sounded in our little bubble.

When he’d admitted he’d felt too. That I’d made him feel… something.

By the time my body’s reactions to Dalton’s kiss began to fade and my brain was once again in charge, I was sitting in the front seat of Dalton’s big car.

We’d left the restaurant and the trucker who’d offered me a ride in exchange for what I’d known would have been the same thing Dalton had offered me.

Only the guy hadn’t had to say the words. They’d been etched all over his face.

I wasn’t sure if it was minutes or hours since my outburst after Dalton’s constant shifts between gentle words and annoyed ones had driven me from the restaurant. I’d been so angry that I hadn’t wanted even the slightest reminder of the man, and I hadn’t even given one thought to ripping his clothes off my body so I could put mine back on.

I hadn’t particularly been surprised to find Dalton waiting when I’d gotten out of the car, but a tiny part of me had enjoyed his stunned expression as I’d started stripping naked in front of him and everyone else. Ivan had often paraded me around others without a stitch of clothing, so having a bunch of strangers in a parking lot seeing me like that had meant nothing to me.

What I hadn’t expected or understood was why Dalton hadn’t let me go to the trucker. Dalton had made it more than clear that my presence was an annoyance and he was only putting up with me to get me to his house so he could do the same things Ivan had. But Dalton had taken it a step further by messing with my mind and letting me believe he might actually be different.

I still couldn’t believe I’d actually expressed my outrage. Talking to Ivan like that would have meant hours, if not days, of torture and degradation, but with Dalton, I hadn’t thought for one second to keep my mouth shut and just get the hell out of there.

I’d wanted to hurt Dalton.

I’d wanted him to know what it was like when someone twisted your mind into so many knots, there would be no way to ever undo them all. I’d wanted him to understand the shame and loss that came along with all those knots.

But more than anything, I’d truly wanted to get away from the man. It was one thing to get fucked physically, but to let someone inside that tiny little place in my head that no one was ever allowed to see, the place where no one could hurt me with words, was unthinkable. Whether it was when I’d been living on the streets with my parents or residing in Ivan’s palatial house, I’d never let that happen.

Ever.

But one touch of his lips against mine and I’d willingly given Dalton a glimpse. Hell, if he’d kept kissing me, every wall I’d built in my head to protect that place where I was still me would have come crashing down.

I needed to be more careful.

I had plenty of time to analyze my actions because as soon as Dalton had gotten me back in the car and begun speeding down the road, he hadn’t said a word to me. He hadn’t even looked at me. He’d merely hit a button in the car that had caused soft music to flow throughout it. The music was the same kind that had made me feel sleepy shortly after he’d first picked me up.

Now it just pissed me off.

I was busy mentally repairing the damage the kisses had done when I heard Dalton’s voice. My brain was still busy rebuilding the walls Dalton had so easily knocked down that I hadn’t heard anything he’d said, so it wasn’t until he thrust the milkshake in front of me that I realized what he wanted. Despite my tastebuds salivating at the prospect of the creamy sweetness of the drink hitting my tongue, I felt so sick inside that I knew I’d throw every bit of that shake right back up.

That was because reality was starting to set back in. Dalton’s kiss and admission had thrown me for a loop but as the miles rushed by and he still remained silent, a wound began to form inside of me.

A wound that was a thousand times more painful than anything Ivan had ever done to me.

The whole thing had been an act.

The kiss, the words… they’d been a carefully and expertly executed act to get me back in Dalton’s SUV. At least if it had been Jace himself or one of the men he worked with who’d forced me into a car so I could be returned to Maggie’s brother for whatever fate he would determine for me, I could have and would have fought. I’d have kicked, bitten, and punched my way to freedom, even if it wouldn’t have worked.

I would have fought.

Dalton had made that impossible. He hadn’t had to use any kind of force or restraint to get me back in the car.

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