Page 24 of Imperfect Skin

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. You’re shaking like a leaf, and this can’t be comfortable for your back.”

I nodded once, slowly rising to my feet. Cal rose alongside me, placing a guiding hand on my hip until I stood upright. I refused to glance in the mirror as we stood at the bathroom sink, not wanting to see what kind of freakshow I looked like right now. I watched, almost feeling like I was in a dream, as Callum ran the taps, not letting me wash my hands until the water was warm. Once done, I reached for the taps, but Cal’s hand stopped me, and he reached for a washcloth.

“Hold still, little Mouse. Let’s clean this off before we get you into bed.”

I watched, bemused, as he soaked the cloth in warm water, then brought it to my face. With gentle swipes, he wiped my cheeks and eyes, carefully removing the last traces of blood and make-up from my face.

The gentleness of his touch and the soft way he spoke nearly had me crying all over again.

I was still shaking when Callum helped me into bed. I lay on my belly clutching Oscar, trying not to think about anything. But typically, my brain was working overtime, throwing up images of the night, of the pain and humiliation I’d felt. Pain had always been something sacred to me when inflicted by a skilled Dom. I was afraid that after tonight, Ziggy would steal that from me too.

Callum slipped into bed wearing just a pair of black sleep pants. I watched him rearrange his pillows, making a pile before he sat up against them.

“Aren’t you sleeping?” I mumbled, wiggling a little closer.

“Was going to read for a little while. Will the light bother you?” Cal reached over and lightly touched my head, ruffling my hair slightly.

I didn’t know what was happening between us, if this was just Callum’s caring side coming out, but I wanted to bask in it. I wanted to feel the full force of Daddy Cal watching over me while I slept. It was ridiculous and I could probably blame it on what had gone down tonight, but I just wanted to be close enough to smell him, to hear his breaths as he read.

Cal tilted his head and smiled at me. “Come here.” He patted the spot next to him.

I shuffled over until I was almost on top of him. Doc did say I needed to sleep on my front after all, and Callum’s chest was the perfect pillow. I rested my face against Cal’s chest, wiggling until I was comfortable, my back aching less in this new position. I brought my hand up to rest on his pecs. Feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand helped me slow my own breathing. Cal’s fingers absently brushed through my hair as he hummed under his breath, something soft I’d heard him hum when settling Alice after a nightmare. I squinted up, trying to decipher the book he was reading, but the words on the cover looked like a strange mess of scrawls. “What are you reading?”

“Poetry.”

I squinted again at the swirling letters. “It’s not in English.”

Cal tipped the book down so I could get a better look. “It’s Cyrillic. Russian. My grandad was born in Russia and came here when he was a small boy. His father, my great-grandfather, was a railway engineer and came out here to work on the engines and ended up staying. When my grandad grew up, he fell in love with a Yorkshire lass and they got married and had my mum.”

“So, there is a bit of Russian bear in you.” I snickered against his chest.

Callum snorted softly. “More like scrappy wolverine. But yeah, I learned to read a little bit of Cyrillic as a kid and started brushing up on it not long ago, so I could read this in its original language.” He held out the book.

“What’s it about?” My eyes started to drift shut, the sound of Callum’s voice soothing.

“It’s a book of poetry by Alexander Pushkin.”

“You don’t strike me as a poetry type person,” I answered, absently running my finger over the tattoo of Alice on Cal’s chest.

“And I wouldn’t take you for a guy who loves his plushie. Seems there is lots about each other for us to learn,” Cal answered, scratching my scalp softly. I liked the sound of that. It made me believe that maybe he hadn’t given up on me.

“Could you read me a little bit?” I yawned loudly against Cal’s skin.

“Alright, but close your eyes for me and try to get some rest, okay?”

I nodded, letting my eyes drift shut as Callum’s deep voice started to recite the poem.

“A magic moment I remember:

I raised my eyes, and you were there

A fleeting vision, the quintessence

Of all that’s beautiful and rare.”

Iwas in The Pit again. I couldn’t see but I knew I was there. My arms and legs were bound and this time there was a gag in my mouth. I couldn’t scream! Someone was moving behind me and they were going to hurt me. It was Ziggy. He was going to hurt me, and Daddy wouldn’t stop him in time.

I don’t have a Daddy! I don’t deserve one.

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