Page 9 of Forbidden Valentine

“What if I want your pace?” I ask.

“Then you need a safe word,” he says simply.

“Pig,” I say, trying not to giggle. It breaks out of me when he lightly bites my inner thigh above the bruise. When he stands, he takes my face in his hands and gently kisses me.

“I want you to remember the gentler side of me and remember that no matter how rough I am, I will always respect you. If you say that word, I stop everything. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say with a sweet smile. “Can I potentially ruin the mood and ask a question?”

“Yes.”

“What about the school?” he asks.

“You graduate soon,” he says. “We keep our mouths shut, and nothing changes in class. But… I want you to stay here.”

“Now or when I graduate?” I ask.

“Now,” he says. “I can't protect you if you are in those dorms where I can't go. They have no control over where you stay. Keep your dorm and let your mail keep going there, but I want you here.”

“Okay,” I smile. “Can I tell Veronica?”

“Do you trust her?” he asks.

“With my life,” I say. “She is a good person.”

“If you trust that she will not get you in trouble, I will support it. I would like to be there when you tell her, though.”

“I can call her tomorrow and have her bring me clothes,” I say.

“Let’s get you dry,” he says as he shuts off the water. He wraps me in a large fluffy towel before tying one around his waist.

Gunner gets me out of the shower and takes his time drying us and brushing my hair before leading me back to the bedroom. He takes the towels and tosses them in the hamper before turning to me.

“Lie on the bed,” he says simply. I do as he says and he sits beside me. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”

“Okay,” I say. “Are you in any pain at all? Even discomfort?”

“No,” I say. “My body is sore, but I think that was just from trying to fight him off. My thighs hurt a little, but it’s manageable. Overall, no.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yes. I have an implant.” I tell him.

“Any reservations?”

“I just don’t want you to lose your job,” I say. “Otherwise, no.”

“I don’t play for fun. I play for keeps. If I say I want you, it’s because I can imagine us still being together long term. Does that bother you?”

“No,” I say. “I want a committed relationship where I can learn and grow with them. I’m young, but I know what I want and deserve.”

“What do you deserve, Mila?” he asks.

“Stability. Unconditional love and support. Faithfulness,” I explain.

“Does our age difference bother you?” he asks.

“You are thirty-five and I am twenty-two,” I say. “I am an adult, not a teenager. I can drink, smoke, and vote. I can decide who I want to fuck and for how long… No, it does not bother me. So long as you treat me with respect and you do not abuse me, I will be happy… I grew up with an abusive alcoholic father and a mother who tolerated it. I will not be like her, and I want peace. I was forced to grow up early, so I have no time for games.”

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