Page 18 of Salacious Devotion

Another strike. Higher. Painful.

I clench my cheeks, forgetting about my greedy pussy. The pain is pulsing now. My ass really hurts. I know he’s watching me closely. He would never break my skin. The fact that I can trust him to give me exactly what I need is allowing me to soar.

I brace myself for the next strike. My body is humming. Every inch of me is screaming with need. The need to shatter.

When it lands, I stop breathing. I tip my head back, arching all the way off the bench. I lift my forearms and use my hands to brace myself. Pain drives through me. It radiates down my arms and legs. It makes me grit my teeth.

I hover in this strange space between shock and release, tingling from head to toe. And then I fall apart. A piercing primal cry leaves my mouth. It echoes through the apartment.

All the oxygen leaves my lungs as I start to sob violently. So many emotions flow out of me. Three years’ worth of hurt and sadness. Anguish and desperation. Loss and soul-deep pain. It all comes out of me in my tears.

Dane scoops me off the bench and cradles me to his chest. He wraps something soft around me while I sob. I’m partially aware of him pulling back the covers on the bed and climbing up to lower us onto the cool sheets.

He has both arms around me, holding me tight. He even grips both of my wrists with one of his hands, securing my arms between my breasts. If he didn’t, I would flail and fight him.

He knows.

He knows.

He knows.

I cry forever. Sometimes, it slows to sniffles, but then the sobbing begins again. Dane never lets me go. He keeps me spooned against him. He whispers things I can’t hear. He kisses my temple often.

It’s not until I begin to relax my muscles and start hiccupping that he eases his grip. I’m a mess. I’m sure mascara is running down my cheeks. My face is probably covered with black smudges.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs. It’s a funny thing to say, but I guess I am. Was I worried about my safety? Yes. Every day. Every night. I’ve had nightmares where I woke up in a cold sweat.

Two kinds.

The kind where Damion Tombeck stares at me in that bank, aims his gun, and delivers the final shot that will end my life. A shot that never happened in real life because his rifle was either jammed or out of ammunition.

And the second kind.

The kind where he’s in my apartment, hovering over me in the present. He’s found me, and he’s holding a plastic bag that he intends to put over my face, suffocating me until my life is snuffed out.

I shudder. Violently.

“Hey…” Dane rolls me partly onto my back. “I’ve got you.”

I nod, sniffling. He’s got me.

I’m safe.

I’m safe.

Chapter 6

Dane

* * *

I lift my girl into my arms and gently carry her to the attached bathroom. She’s shaking, but I want to clean her up. I know she needs sleep, but she’ll be more comfortable if I at least wash her face and brush her teeth.

I lower her to sit on the toilet lid. “Are you steady, baby?”

She nods, even though she’s shivering.

I rush back into the room to grab a T-shirt and my phone. I shoot off a quick text to Easton and Drake, asking if one of them will grab her bag. I’m back, kneeling in front of her, in seconds. “Do you want to shower, Paige?”

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