Page 45 of Bleed for Me

I backed her into the wall, a gasp slipping from her lips. I moved my hands to her waist and lowered my head, taking her nipple in my mouth. Her back arched instantly, her breaths permeating the room. My tongue flipped across the pebbled bud, causing her to whimper, but still, she made no move to push me away. She didn’t know me well enough to want me as a person, but she also wasn’t willing to give up this kind of chemistry, either. I made her feel things she’d probably never felt before. It terrified her and was exhilarating to her all at the same time.

I wouldn’t fuck her because I knew it wasn’t what she wanted—knew that she wasn’t ready. But I could still breathe life into her with my touch alone.

“Archer,” she gasped out, my name sounding like heaven on her lips. “Please stop.”

“Tell me to go away,” I growled before swiping my tongue over her breast again.

Her hands moved up my arms and traveled over the hard planes of my chest where she attempted to push me back. “I can’t,” she admitted. “But I also can’t let you do this.”

Finally, I straightened my back, staring down at her. “Is it because of him?” I asked again.

Guilt flickered across her features, hating what she’d just allowed me to do, but this wasn’t on her. It wasn’t her fault. “Yes.” She dropped her gaze, but that wasn’t going to fly with me. Tilting her chin up with the crook of my forefinger, I stared her in the eye.

“Where was he when you needed him yesterday?” I demanded.

She reeled back as if I’d slapped her. “He—he…” she trailed off, pursing her lips before glaring at me. “He’s not a confrontational person,” she defended.

“Every man is confrontational when it comes to something they truly want.”

“You’re saying he doesn’t want me?” she countered in disbelief. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Even though I heard the words, I could see the hesitation written all over her face. She was a virgin, so he obviously hadn’t fucked her. With how responsive she was to my touch, it was easy to believe that it wasn’t her decision.

“I didn’t say that. But if I was him, I would have already fucked you. If someone posed a threat to our relationship, they’d pay for it. You’re settling for him; I can see it in your eyes. You want so badly to be wanted—to be desired, and he isn’t giving you what you need. Sex is a part of a relationship. It strengthens it. Without it, you’re missing out on a huge portion of what makes a relationship thrive.”

I didn’t give her time to mull over my words. I smashed my lips against hers, reveling in the feel of them pressed to mine and the scent of her skin. The intensity of my mouth against hers told her everything my words didn’t. This had now become her decision. I’d talk to her, touch her, but I wouldn’t give her what she wanted until she asked for it. This time, she parted her lips and let me kiss her back. As much as that made my heart rate accelerate, I knew it was because she’d decided that this would be the one and only time she allowed it. I also knew that minds could change, and I’d give her the space she needed, but only for a few days.

I pulled away first, confusion flickering in her eyes at my sudden departure. “Your clothes are on the counter near the stalls.” With those parting words, I turned my back and exited the room.

THIRTEEN

ROSALIE

“Rosalie,” Dr. Blake acknowledged once I entered. “Sit.” He motioned to the seat in front of him, which I hesitantly took.

I hadn’t gotten much sleep since the last time we’d spoken—when he told me I’d been the one to kill Daisy. I’d been waiting for the chance to speak with him again, hoping he’d be more inclined to release me, sooner rather than later.

“How has the adjustment been?” he asked, raising his gaze to meet mine.

I shifted uncomfortably, my mind flashing to Archer, Jordan, and Seven, but mostly Archer. Our encounter in the bathroom yesterday made me uncomfortable, but it also made me want more. I couldn’t even begin to sort through these feelings even if I tried. He made me question everything and had seemed so sure in what he’d said.Sex is part of a relationship. It strengthens it. Without it, you’re missing out on a huge portion of what makes a relationship thrive.At first, I thought he was just talking out his ass, saying anything to get me to cave. That’s what lesser mendid when they wanted agirl’s body. But his words resonated deep withinme, and I realized…he was right.

Every time I tried to get Alex to do anything sexual, even to justtouchme, he wouldn’t. The rejection stung, but I also understood at the time. We’d agreed to be celibate together, thinking it would strengthen our emotional connection. But sex did that too—from what I understood of it. Why couldn’t we have had all of it?

Sighing, I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on Dr. Blake instead. “Difficult,” I admitted. “But I’m managing.”

He smiled in understanding, his hands resting on a familiar folder, the one I recognized as mine from the last time he’d had it on his desk. “That’s normal. It’s definitely a transition, but I’m pleased to hear that you’re doing well.” His eyes crinkled at the corners from years of hard work and dedication. He was young, but his eyes told another story. Mentally, he was older beyond his years.

I nodded, worrying my lower lip between my teeth. “I had a dream the night we spoke—well, it was more of a nightmare.”

He straightened in his seat, pleased that I was being so open with him. “What happened in this nightmare?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“What really happened the night my sister and Gentry died. I killed her, but it was an accident.” I dropped my gaze to my hands where they rested on my lap. “It had been me swinging the knife, and she got too close. When I realized what I’d done, I turned the knife on myself out of guilt.” That last part didn’t happen in that nightmare, but it was what my mom had told me.

“Has anything else happened since then?”

I couldn’t tell him that I’d been hearing things or seeing things that weren’t there. That would do nothing but ensure my place here. So instead, I shook my head.

“Do I need to be medicated? For dissociative disorder?” I pressed. I was willing to do whatever I had to in order to cooperate. Anything to get me out of here faster.

His features softened. “That’s not necessary. There is no medication designed for dissociative disorder, not for the kind you have. Yours was brought on by trauma—a way for your subconscious to protect you from the pain of that night.” His smile widened, turning into a more genuine one. “I’m pleased to see that you’ve already made progress. After some more trauma therapy, you’ll be free to return home. We’re mostly worried about how you choose to cope now, especially after attempting suicide and hurting your sister, which I know wasn’t your intention. Don’t blame yourself, Rosalie. You were fighting for your life, forherlife as well. It could have happened to anyone.”

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