Page 129 of Every Shade of Shadow

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No,” I say, quite determined. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

“It can get better,” he implies, his right hand sliding down my crotch. His fingers reach my inner thigh. They stop and move over to my sex before coming to an abrupt halt. “But not tonight.”

Normally, this would result in disappointment, but I’m enjoying this intimacy. I spin back around to face him, reaching for the vial. “My turn,” I tell him.

He watches me as I pour out the liquid, returning the vial to its position on the shelf. I rub my hands together and admire his large, muscular frame. I place my hands over his stomach and keep them parallel to each other as I work the liquid to a lather. “I never thought I’d find this at Lumina.”

“What is that, my pet?” he whispers.

“Myself.”

Part of me regrets this confession but fuck it. We’re sharing, aren’t we?

“What did you expect to find?” he asks, his peaceful expression encouraging me to continue.

“More of what I had back home, I guess. That cold indifference, hostility, and don’t get me wrong, I see it here, but with you…in our sessions…I see something greater. I’ve found parts of myself here I never believed were possible, that I could be capable of…” I lose my train of thought.

“Mmm,” he murmurs. He snakes his arms around my lower back, this simple move immobilizing me. I’m left with my own arms crossed over his stomach. “You have embraced what most would dare not explore or acknowledge. You saw it with your friend, how dark desires can run, but by drawing to them, welcoming them, they become not a weakness, but a strength—a strength you will need for what is to come.

“And what is that?”

“War.”

He cups the skin of my lower back and lets his hands roam downward. A gentle squeeze of my ass cheeks later, I am exhaling softly over his chest. The tip of my tongue licks my lower lip. I savor the sensation, his strong embrace intensifying this wonderful feeling of safety.

He turns and shuts off the faucet, the last of the water trailing down his body. He walks past me to a stack of rolled-up towels, passing one to me and using the other to dry himself off.

Equally dry, I follow him back out into his chambers.

“I want you to lie down,” he says.

But there isn’t the usual inflection of a command here. No, this is more like a request, which makes it even easier to oblige.

I lie on my back on the bed, a few rogue droplets dotting my skin. Damien gathers my hair together and places it over my shoulder.

He leans over the side of the bed to a drawer and returns with another vial, this one fat and round and golden.

He pours the liquid out, rubbing it in his hands and letting its scent flow through the room. I smell rosewood and something intangible—sweet.

His warm hands land on my stomach. They spread across my skin slowly, the liquid heating wherever it goes.

I’ve never felt so cared for, so…pampered? Is that the word for it? It wasn’t so long ago this man was mercilessly thrashing my ass, but now? His whole demeanor has shifted, which makes me think he is capable of more—of affection and mutual understanding.

Love.

He kneads his thumbs into my muscles and makes his way upwards. He stops just an inch from my breasts, his gaze lingering.

“What were my parents like?” I ask. It’s not a premeditated question, but the time feels right.

It’s a moment before the Professor answers, hands sweeping over the underside of my breasts, a trail of warmth in their wake. “You saw them in the photograph on my dresser, I presume?”

Shit. I knew they looked familiar. So they were what? Besties with him?

This adds a whole new element to things.

They were close. What did they share?

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