Page 45 of Sinful Scars

“That’s not a good idea.”

Goosebumps break out over my skin at the sound of his voice.

My memory doesn’t do it justice. It's gravellier and rougher than I remember and sexy as hell.

What I would give to hear him whisper in my ear as he fucked me slowly, to moan my name as he came inside me?—

“Please,” I beg, ignoring the building ache between my thighs. “I need answers.”

He’s silent, and I take that as my cue to continue.

There’s so much I want to ask him, so much I want to know, that I’m unsure of where to start. So, I decide to ask the first question that comes to mind.

“The day I was kidnapped… How did you know I was in trouble? Were you following me then too?”

“I’m always watching you.”

I let his words sink in for a moment.

He’s always watchingme.

Not my apartment, or the hospital where I work.

Me.

Was he there the night I ended up vomiting in a back alley after Lucia and I went out drinking? Or perhaps when I brought a guy back to my old studio apartment, and we couldn’t make it to my bed before tearing each other’s clothes off, so I ended up fucking him on my couch in full view of my window.

“Oh, my god.” I realize the extent of all he could have witnessed.

The ache between my thighs is unbearable as I consider the possibility that he’s watched me have sex with another man. It’s so dirty and wrong, and yet I’ve never been more aroused, especially at the thought of him pleasuring himself at the sight of me climaxing.

“I’m sorry, I…I shouldn’t be here.” His voice snaps me back to the present.

He moves toward the window, but I’m not ready for him to go yet, not when we’ve barely talked.

“Please,” I choke. “I want you to stay. It's the only way I'll sleep.”

Maybe admitting such a truth to him is a mistake, but I want him to see it as an offer of trust. I want him to know that I’m not afraid ofhim.

My heart races as I wait for him to ignore my request.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves closer until he’s perching on the end of my bed.

The mattress dips from his weight.

He’s so close that I can hear the sound of his breathing, but still, I can’t see anything more than the outline of his body.

All it would take is for me to lean over and switch on the light, and he would be revealed to me. But I don’t want to break his trust and risk losing him when I’ve barely had a chance to know him.

“Tell me something.” I bring my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly.

“About what?”

I eye the dark outline of his body, so desperate to reach out and touch him.

If he learned of how slick I was between my thighs at the thought of him watching me, would he finally lose control? Would he finally trust me enough to reveal himself?

“You know everything about me and yet, I know nothing about you.”

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