Page 75 of Vicious

I tilt her head up so I can kiss her. She kisses back, clinging to my shirt, and for one small second, I want to say I love you.

But I quash that desire.

I don’t want to ruin the moment.

After we both recover our breath, I lift her up and carry her to the bed. She moans in protest, shaking her head, but I set her down gently on her front.

“Shh. I’ll take care of you.” I stroke her head lightly then go to the little bathroom area to get a washcloth and the skin creams.

May whimpers when I wipe her down, and her breathing turns ragged when I start to apply the cream to her ass and the back of her thighs. She’s already bruised, and despite the fight that had led us to this moment, I can’t bring myself to regret it.

She looks so beautiful like this.

I gently kiss my way down her spine. “Ah-May, Ah-May. I love your spirit. I love how you fight. I love how you look now, too, beautiful and pliant and relaxed. You need the pain as much as I crave to give it.”

Shuddering, May bows her head, not looking up at me. “I shouldn’t have said those things,” she says, her voice little more than a croak.

“We both lost our temper,” I say. I know I shouldn’t have let her provoke me, just as I know her father is a sensitive subject. I lie down next to her and pull the cover over us. I kiss her shoulder and keep stroking her. “It’s fine now. Just relax. We got it out of our systems.”

She nods, breathing out slowly. “Did you… Did you really read about the divorce?” she whispers.

“I did,” I answer slowly. “I was curious. I wanted to know everything about you, Ah-May, and like I said… some things didn’t add up.”

May is quiet for another long moment, and she opens her eyes to look at me. “You do know how creepy that is, right?” she says. I think she’s trying to tease me, but her tone is bleak.

“Sure. If it makes you feel better, I was only able to get the information because I have the right friends. Divorce proceedings aren’t usually public.” I sigh and kiss the back of her neck. “Just rest now, Ah-May. There’s no need to worry about these things.”

For a moment, she seems like she’s going to argue, but then she relaxes into the bed and closes her eyes. She gives a small nod, not speaking this time, and we lie there in a comfortable silence for a long moment.

Once she’s asleep, I kiss her forehead again, wrapping my arm gingerly around her waist as I keep her close.

CHAPTER 20

May

As I drift into consciousness, the first thing I’m aware of is how much my ass and thighs—and my cunt—hurt. I ache all over, and the blissful sensations I’d had the night before are gone. I don’t know how long it’s been; the room is dark. Chase is sleeping peacefully next to me, and for a moment, I think about just going back to sleep. I could wake up again with his arms around me and see just how things will change now that we’ve both gotten something dark and ugly out of our systems.

But that terrifies me more than anything else.

I don’t want to accept this as my future in any way.

I can’t.

As tempted as I am to just give in to this, to give in to him body and mind and soul, I can’t bring myself to do it.

I recount all the reasons why: he’s been stalking me for the past year, and I know now that he’s gone deep enough into my history to find out about the divorce proceedings between my parents. He’s done unspeakable things to me, and even though we both might’ve ended up enjoying the aftermath of our raging argument, the fact of the matter is that he got angry enough to paddle me over it.

He lost control, and that’s a terrifying thing when I consider just how thoroughly he owns me. He could’ve done much, much worse.

I swallow hard around strained vocal cords, then slowly start to edge out of the bed. I hold my breath, but as before, he proves to be a heavy sleeper.

I get dressed as quietly as I can, then creep over to the door.

I half expect it to be locked—half hope it’ll be locked—but neither of us had been in any frame of mind to think about anything logical. It opens with ease, and I quietly let myself out of the cell.

I feel a pang in my chest as I approach the stairs, as I get to another unlocked door. Part of me is screaming for freedom, but the other is still downstairs with Chase somehow.

I shove those thoughts away, padding my way through the house until I find the front door. To my relief, there’s everything I need: a wallet in the basket by the door—with a few crisp hundred-dollar bills inside—and a shoe caddy next to it. While his shoes don’t fit me well, they’ll suffice. It’s like the universe is telling me to do this, to leave as quickly as I can and not look back, so why the fuck am I hesitating?

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