Page 40 of Bristol

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. That orgasm just made me super emotional.”

“You’re sure? Nothing’s wrong?” He asks again, eyeing me like he doesn’t believe me, making me laugh.

“Yes, baby. I’m sure. I promise.”

I sit up and wipe my face, feeling a tinge of embarrassment at allowing myself to be controlled by my emotions. I smile at him and rise from the bed. He doesn’t look one hundred percent convinced, but he doesn’t push the issue any further. I scurry off to the bathroom to clean up and opt to go ahead and shower. I hear Sebastian rustling in the bathroom while I stand beneath the stream of hot water before he slides the curtain open and steps inside with me.

His arms wrap around my waist, and I lean my head back into his chest, soaking in the warmth of both him and the water. My eyes are closed as I stand there, basking in the complete and utter bliss of Sebastian’s closeness. He moves to grab something, but I don’t care enough to open my eyes. A warm, soapy washcloth finds its way across my chest and down my stomach. Sebastian bathes me, running the washcloth tenderly between my legs and sending chills down my body.

Sebastian bathes me until every inch of my body has been touched by the rag in his hand. When I finally open my eyes, my relaxed body is begging for rest. Between everything that happened today and all the orgasms, I can’t wait to curl up into Sebastian and sleep.

We make it back to bed, half dried off from the shower and naked. I rest my head on his shoulder and thought escapes me as sleep drags me in.

Chapter Twelve

SEBASTIAN

The morning brings thoughts of last night on a loop in my mind. I picture it all over and over again. Every blow delivered to her perfect ass, the way she defied my commands and loved being punished for it. I’m so fucking amazed by her strength. I thought she was going to lose it last night after things were done. The way she had tears streaming down her face made my whole fucking heart sink. I was so worried I had hurt her somehow. I’m still not one-hundred percent certain that I didn’t fuck up something, but she insisted that everything was okay, so I have to take her at her word.

The morning light peers through a small gap in the curtains, illuminating the side of her face. Her eyes are closed and her breathing even. She’s still sound asleep. I stare at her in awe for what feels like forever, just watching her be so worry free and peaceful. I know that she’s so haunted by the things that were done to her. Hell, I’m haunted by the very minuscule amount of torture I witnessed on one video. That was one day out of hundreds that she’d had to endure.

I place a soft kiss on her forehead before I quietly ease out of bed. I remember how much my girl liked that crawfish omelet I made for her, so I thaw out a bag of crawfish tails from the freezer and get to whipping my wrist in the kitchen. I turn on Solomon Burke radio on Pandora with the volume low while I cook two omelets and some toast.

A sleepy Bristol emerges from the bedroom wearing nothing but an oversized tee of mine that stops just above her knees. Her hair is sticking up in multiple directions and there’s leftover eye makeup below her eyes. She’s sexier this morning than she was last night. My dick twitches in my shorts as I eye her. She offers me a sleepy smile and sits down at the bar, resting her head in her hands as she observes the plates of food on the counter.

I divvy up the omelets and toast and set a plate down in front of her.

“Good morning, sleepy girl,” I smile.

“Good morning,” she rasps.

She digs into her omelet before I have a chance to sit down. I pull up a seat at the bar next to her and I find my eyes drawn to her. More-so than usual. It’s as if our whole dynamic changed last night and now we have this deeper connection. I feel a need to just… see her. Feel her. Be near her. It’s stronger and more prevalent than it’s ever been.

“What?” She asks as she shoves a bite into her mouth.

I shrug, stabbing a crawfish tail with my fork. “Nothing. Just in awe of you.”

Her cheeks redden and she looks over at me with a smile on her face.

“I’m nothing special, Bash. If anything, I’m the opposite of special. There’s nothing awe-worthy of a woman who’s been through what I have.”

The distant look in her eyes makes me want to slam my fist straight through Patrick’s face. I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on that sorry son of a bitch for what he’s done to her.

“Baby, you’re fucking perfect. In every goddamned aspect of the word from the top of your head to the bottom of your feet, there isn’t a single thing in between that is less than absolute perfection. And I’m willing to spend however long it takes showing that to you.”

The look on her face tells me she doesn’t believe me.

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Sometimes being with you doesn’t feel real. It’s something that I keep thinking I’m dreaming or making up inside my own head, yet here you are. Every day. In the flesh. I wake up to the most amazing reality. I never thought this would be my life. Thank you, Sebastian. For saving me.”

“I didn’t save you, angel. That was all Mo.”

“No, it was you. He saved me from my situation. From my circumstances. You saved me from myself. From the hell that lurks in my mind. From every bad thing that’s ever happened to me. You save me every single day.”

Tears trickle down her face. I set my fork down and scoop her from the barstool she’s sitting on. Her head rests on my shoulder as she cries softly.

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