Page 22 of Lily

“I won’t make it too hot. It’ll be warm enough to stop your shivering but not so hot that it hurts.” He grabbed the hem of the sweatshirt. “Can I take this off, sweetheart?”

She drew in a breath and nodded. Her ability to remain modest was out of whack. Who cared if he saw her naked? Half the planet had. She lifted her arms and winced as he carefully lifted the hoodie over her head.

She watched his face. His jaw was tight as he looked closely at her breasts and then turned her to look at her back. “It doesn’t look like the skin was broken.”

“He didn’t like blood,” she murmured.

He drew in a breath. Could breathing be angry? His was.

Holding her hip, he trailed a finger along what she assumed was the faint line from the last time he’d caned her a week ago. “When was this one?”

“Last week, Sir.” The respectful address slid out of her mouth by habit.

Marco turned her around to face him again. He held her biceps and set his forehead against hers. He looked like he wanted to say something or punch something, but he simply held her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It’s been pounded into me.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m trying to control my anger. You don’t need that from me. Please know that you will see me frustrated, cussing, furious, and possibly breaking things. It will never be directed at you. I’m pissed with the situation. I’m so angry I can’t see straight. It is not your fault.”

She gave a slight nod.

“Just so we’re clear. I’m familiar with BDSM and fetish practices. Many moons ago, I used to belong to a club. In another life, maybe I could have been someone’s Sir. But I will never be your Sir.” He slid his hands to cup her cheeks. “My name is also not Marco. It’s Stefano.”

Her breath hitched. “What?”

He nodded. “I’ll explain it to you someday, but I’d love it if you thought of me as Stefano.”

“Stefano…” She rolled that around in her mind. She’d known him for nearly four years. He was Marco to her.

He smiled. “That sounds so damn nice.” He shifted his attention to the tub and turned off the water. “Step in, sweetheart. I don’t like how cold you are.”

She took his offered hand and climbed into the tub before remembering her hair was hanging long all around her. “Can you pin my hair up somehow?”

He had a hand on her hip. “I grabbed a bunch of stuff from your bathroom. How about a scrunchie?”

“Perfect.”

“Will you be okay for a minute?” He looked concerned.

She shook her head. “No. I’ll hold it up and sit down.” Her legs could barely support her weight as she lowered to sit in the water, holding her hair up.

“I’ll be right back.” He rushed from the room and returned a few seconds later with one of the bags he’d brought from her apartment. She recognized the duffle and nearly cried again. The thought that her belongings still existed in the world overwhelmed her. She hadn’t owned much, but some of her things were special. The idea that she might have lost all the pictures of her mother had bothered her tremendously.

Marco…Stefano—that would take some getting used to—dug around in the bag and held up a pink scrunchie victoriously. He stepped closer to her back, took the hair from her, gathered it up, and secured it.

The way he took care not to pull her hair was so intimate. Plus, she was naked. He’d never seen her naked. She couldn’t find the will to care. When he was done, she leaned back. The water was full enough to cover her up to her neck, and it felt like heaven. She rested her head on the back of the tub and moaned.

She glanced down at her nipples where the water lapped over them. “I used to be so modest,” she murmured.

He sat on the edge of the tub, took one of her hands, and held it, stroking her knuckles. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She chuckled, the sound foreign to her. “It’s super weird. I hardly know you, and yet you remembered who I was, and you risked your life to come get me, and now, I’m lying here naked. And all I can think of to do is to thank you.”

He leaned closer, lifted her knuckles to his lips, and kissed them. “I’ve looked for you every single day since you disappeared. I went to your apartment and sat outside waiting for you to come home for two nights when you didn’t show up for work. On the third night, I broke in. That’s when I knew you’d been taken against your will.”

“I barely remember that night. I was sound asleep when something was pressed against my face. I panicked, thinking I would be suffocated. I never saw who did it. I grabbed at anything I could get hold of, but it was no use. When I woke up, I was in hell.”

His jaw was tight. She couldn’t blame him. “You’ll tell me all of it when you’re ready, Rose. I won’t pressure you.”

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