Page 96 of Stitches

I went up on my elbow and watched as she walked slowly into the room like a ghost and crawled into bed beside me. Her hand slid across my bare abdomen before her head rested on my chest.

I settled back in bed, my throat tight.

When her hand slowly caressed my abs, I squeezed my eyelids closed, my breathing heavy.

“Angel,” I whispered. “I-I’m…”

I didn’t know what the rest of my sentence would be. It didn’t matter anyway because she shifted over my body and situated herself between my legs and stared at me.

I lay in silence, watching her as she leaned down and kissed my abdomen, taking care to pay attention to each of my scars as she worked her way up my body.

My breath came out a stuttered gasp when she peppered kisses up the jagged cut over my guts and chest.

Her small, warm body settled over mine, her lips kissing along my neck and jaw. I tried to keep my breathing even, but I was internally freaking out inside, especially when her lips skimmed across the nasty scar on the side of my face from where I’d hacked off one of my tats while under the influence in the facility.

My dick hadn’t gotten the cool down message though. It was hard as fuck beneath her warmth. I was acutely aware that only two pieces of thin material separated her warm pussy from me, and it was torture. I wanted to make love to her. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell her all the shit inside my head, but I was so fucking afraid.

“Stitches,” her soft voice trembled in my ear.

Immediately, I moved my hands up to hold her at her waist, my breath catching in my chest.

“I remember,” she continued softly, her lips brushing my ear. “You made it better. You saved me.”

I closed my eyes, absorbing her words.

“I failed you, angel.”

“Never.”

I swallowed hard, her words doing something to my heart.

“I love you,” she continued in her soft, sweet voice. “I miss you. Everything that happened to us made us stronger. It gave us the strength to do what we have to do. I need you, Malachi. I need you with me. I-I want to kill all of them. I want you to help me.”

“Fuck, baby, yes,” I answered back. “I want that too.”

“Then come back. Don’t fall. Please.”

“They hurt me. They fucked me,” my voice broke with my words. “Theyrapedme, baby. I’m a man, and they took it from me. But I-I did it right back, so what does that say about me?”

“That you’re a victim.” She kissed the scar on my face. “That we all are. Please come back to us. To me. Let’s be the monsters this time. Let them reap what they sow.”

Fuck, I wanted that in the worst way. Her voice. Her words. They spurred me on. They opened up something deep inside of me.

Within moments, I had her flipped onto her back and pinned beneath me.

She stared up at me with those eyes I could get lost in for hours.

“Take it,” she whispered, her wrists tightly bound by my hand as I held her. “Let me make it better.”

With my other hand, I went beneath her nightgown and tugged at her panties, the cracking of stitching sounding out in the room as I tore the lace from her. It didn’t take much to get my hard cock out from beneath my boxers.

My breathing was heavy as I pushed myself between her legs.

“Fight me, Sirena. My angel. Fight back. I-I need you to.”

She bucked up against me, causing my dick to slip away from its target.

I let out a snarl and forced her legs apart, my grip on her wrists tightening.

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