Page 42 of Fight

On a heavy exhale, I looked down, unable to miss the hardness tenting his pants.

Feeling that hardness in my hand, inside my body, became an insistent need, and I reached for him, having no idea what I would do when I touched him, but intent on doing so nonetheless.

Ioan had moved his hand from between my thighs and caught my wrist in it, his fingers even warmer than they had been before. He shook his head faintly, pushed my arm back to my side.

My pants had started to slip down around my hips, but he caught them and pulled them back up and refastened them. He let his fingers linger against my stomach and then continued by pushing my breasts back into the cups of the bra. He then slid the straps back on my shoulders and grabbed my T-shirt and put it over my head.

I extended my arms automatically but stood there mute, knowing what I wanted, needed, but unable to ask for it.

I didn’t have a chance because after he dressed me, Ioan brushed a soft kiss against my lips.

“No one will ever hurt you again, P,” he said.

Then he turned and walked away.

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