Page 58 of Owning Nicci

Despite everything that’s happened over the course of the day, it’s harder to fall asleep than I would have expected. I’m viscerally aware of Savio lying next to me, of the muscled, warm weight of his body stretched out next to mine, and I consider, several times, simply getting up and going down to sleep on the couch.

But my body aches, and the bed is comfortable. I don’t doubt that he’s right—the couch downstairs probably isn’t. I also don’t think he’s asleep, and if I tried to get up and sneak downstairs, he’d try to stop me.

I’ve been testing his limits all night, waiting for him to snap, to punish me, to put me on my knees or over the bed for a spanking. I know he wants me. I’ve never seen a man as hard as he was earlier, just standing at the dresser staring at the stack of his clothes like there was an answer in them that he was dying to find. But he didn’t act on it. And it’s confusing.

I can tell that he’s developing an attachment to me. That what he feels for me runs deeper than the ownership that he’s repeated time and again. But I’m not sure that he knows what that means. There are moments when he looks lost, and a part ofme that I thought was slaughtered a long time ago wants to reach out and comfort him. To bridge the space between us. But it’s a tiny part. An ember too weak to even try to fan into a flame, even if I wanted to.

And Idon’t.

Even if I am attracted to him, there’s nothing good that can come of continuing to act on it. Even if I wanted to try to use him for my pleasure—as he’s used me for his—to find out what it would be like to try to take whatIwant from a man, it would only convolute things between us further. What Ineedis to use this newfound freedom and put as much emotional distance between us as I can. If he’s no longer going to demand that I behave as his submissive, then we could be temporary partners. A team. Working together toward a common goal.

Until I stab him in the back at the end of all of this, and run.

I shouldn’t feel guilty about that. Not in the slightest. Savio has earned his fate a dozen times over. And yet, as I lie there on my side, staring at the curtains covering the window across from the bed, I can’t help feeling that maybe there’s more to it than I know. That deep down, this isn’t the man he’s always been…and maybe even not the one he really wants to be.

As I’m lying there, my mind racing, I feel him shift in the bed behind me. A moment later, his arm is draped over my waist, and I feel his hand brush sleepily over my breast before he settles, his breathing even once again.

Something tightens in my chest, and I swallow hard, closing my eyes. No one has ever touched me so gently before.Why did it have to be him?

I manage to drift off for a few hours. When I wake up again, Savio is snoring lightly next to me, and a faint early morning light is shining through the crack in the curtains. Despite the fact that I’ve probably gotten less than three hours of sleep, I feelwide awake, and so I gently push back the blankets, careful to try not to wake Savio.

I pad across the room quietly, wincing every time an old floorboard creaks beneath my weight, but Savio doesn’t stir. He’s clearly sleeping hard, and I bite my lip, taking one more glance back at him.

The blankets have slid down to his muscled abdomen, revealing his bare, smooth chest. Sleeping, he looks far softer and more innocent than he ever does while awake—younger, even. I linger there for a moment, taking in the handsome lines of his face and the way his hair has fallen partially over one eye, his head turned onto the pillow.

If he were different. If I were different. If our whole fucking lives were different.If Savio had met me when I was still a socialite, maybe all of his money and influence would have called to my father, and he would have been the man who was supposed to marry me instead. But he still wouldn’t have liked me. He still wouldn’t have wanted me forme. The only thing that there’s ever been between us, other than a visceral chemistry that I wish I could undo, is a mutual desire to use one another for something we need. Without that, I’m not sure what we would have.

Turning away, I get a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt out, knowing it’s probably a little chilly outside this early in the morning. I change clothes, glancing back once more at Savio to make sure I haven’t woken him, and then I slip out of the room, wincing when the door creaks as I open and close it. But I don’t hear him stir.

Thank fuck he said it’s safe out here—that no one knows about this place.I think grimly as I head downstairs and out of the back door. He’s sleeping so hard that I’m starting to think he wouldn’t hear it in time if we were attacked.

The sun is glinting through the trees as I step outside, and I see the backyard behind the cabin for the first time since it was too dark to see much when we got here last night. The cabin is bracketed by forest on both sides, with a grassy, overgrown lawn in the back, and a sparkling pond just down the hill, with more forest behind it. I walk down the hill, avoiding the thickest parts of the grass in case of spiders or snakes, and push the sleeves of my thin shirt up my arms as I go. It’s already very warm out, and I can feel a small bit of sweat prickling on the back of my neck by the time I get down to the edge of the pond.

It feels good. I haven’t been away from the city in years—not since I was much, much younger. And I’ve never been very outdoorsy, but there’s something remarkably peaceful about this place. I can feel the tension draining out of me, and I tip my head back, feeling the sun warm my face as I draw in a deep breath of the fresh, clean air.

I’m not sure how long I stand there. For a little while, I’m not thinking about the Crows, or Savio, or my past—or even my future. I just stand there in the sun, with the scent of grass in my nose and the sound of the quacking ducks flitting across the pond in my ears. And I wonder, ever so briefly, if it would be possible to stay here forever.

“Nicci?”

Savio’s voice cuts through the peace, and my stomach tightens. I turn, slowly, and I see him a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that I can’t quite read. It’s as if he’s never seen me before, as if he’s encountering me for the first time…and something in his face seems as if he likes what he sees. Like he might want to see more of it.

“Sorry.” I wrap my arms around my waist, taking a step back. “I couldn’t sleep for long. Thought I’d come out and get some fresh air.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Savio frowns slightly, walking closer down the hill toward me. He’s wearing jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt—the most casual I’ve ever seen him. I realize, abruptly, that I’ve never even seen him naked before last night. He’s always been fully clothed around me, even in the playroom, even when he’s been inside me.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” he asks, looking around. “I haven’t been here in years. I forgot how peaceful it was.”

“It is peaceful,” I agree. Across the pond, the ducks take off in a flurry of beating wings and water, and I glance towards where they’re flying away. “I guess we disturbed them.”

Savio chuckles. He takes a step closer, and I jump when I feel his hand touch my face, turning it towards him. I start to pull away, and to my surprise, he lets me go.

“I just wanted to see if he left any marks last night.” His gaze sweeps over my face. “You’re not bruised, from what I can see.”

“Well, that’s something.” My stomach squirms uncomfortably, and I bite my lip, looking away. I can feel that Savio is about to ask me something else, and I’m not sure if I want to know what it is.

“The bruises,” he says quietly. “When I first brought you to my penthouse. You were covered in them. Who did that to you?”

I snort. “Do you need to ask?”

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