Page 14 of Sinful Scars

For a second, I let myself admire her delicate features. The rosebud mouth, the slight dimple in her right cheek.

My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and cup her face, to trace my thumb over her plump bottom lip.

She shivers, snapping me out of my prolonged gaze.

“Take my hand.”

She gingerly holds up her hand, and I interlace it with my left, trying not to cringe as her fingers brush over the raised scarring.

She makes no indication that she’s noticed, and I exhale.

My body is littered with scars, both on the inside and out. I couldn’t tell the stories behind each and every one even if I wanted to. Igor made sure of that.

Elle tightens her hold on my hand, and I focus on the feeling of her warm skin against mine as I carefully lead her up the steps to the cabin.

There’s a covered porch that wraps around the entire cabin, and I often sit in one of the rocking chairs when it storms, listening to the sound of the rain hitting the roof.

After unlocking the door, I guide Elle inside and close it behind us.

I’ve not been here for longer than a few hours in the past month, but the cabin still smells faintly of burned firewood.

It’s a small space, with a combined living and eating area, with one bedroom and adjoining bathroom beyond the kitchen.

Despite the lack of personal effects, this small cabin has become more of a home to me in the past few years than the enormous mansion I grew up in.

I thought it would feel strange having another person inthe cabin, but having Elle here feels soright. It’s as if we’re the only two people in the world, and for a while at least, I can live out such a fantasy.

“The bedroom is just through here,” I explain, even though she can’t see. But I want to keep talking in the hopes of easing her fear.

I carefully lead her across the living area, making sure she doesn’t catch herself on the corner of any furniture.

Elle is quiet as I push open the bedroom door and lead her over to the bed where she perches on the end.

This is just a hiding place. There is no overflowing bookcase or walls covered with pictures of friends and family like there is at Elle’s apartment.

But I don’t need much. Only her.

And now she’s here.

“You can remove the blindfold once I’m out of the room. Not before.”

“Okay,” she whispers, chewing on her bottom lip.

“I’m going to lock you in this room, but I need you to understand that it’s for your own safety. You can trust me. Do you understand?”

She nods, her lips pressed together in a thin line as she sits completely still on the edge of the bed, my jacket pulled tightly around her.

I should leave her to it, but I can’t help taking a second to admire her. I’ve dreamed about having her this close for so long. To have her sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes…

My hand moves to adjust myself as my cock starts to stiffen in my pants, and I take that as my cue to leave before I make any more stupid decisions.

“Sleep well,” I murmur before slipping out of the room and turning the key in the lock.

Holding my breath, I lean forward to rest my forehead against the door, listening to the sound of Elle finally removing the blindfold.

I want nothing more than to be in there with her, but it’s for the best that I put as much distance as I can between us despite the small cabin.

When she’s close, I lose the ability to think rationally, and I can’t risk her life because of my own selfish need to be near her.

---