Page 53 of Butterfly

This, of all things, made her smile. “Thank you, Mace,” she said, and even though I’d hated being called Mace in the past, the sweet way she said it made my chest squeeze. “But I’m not hungry.”

Oh no, that wasn’t going to fly. “Butterfly, you need to eat.”

“I can’t, I’m too anxious,” she admitted, looking away.

I stroked a hand through her hair, turning her face back to mine. “Why?”

Her eyes went wet with tears. “Because of you,” she whispered.

Ah, fuck.

“Because I drugged you?”

She nodded.

“And took your virginity?”

She nodded again.

“And was cruel to you for so long?”

“Yes. I don’t know what’s real, and what isn’t. I’m so angry at you for what you did, but I…”

“Want me at the same time,” I said, knowingly.

“...Yes.”

I ran a finger down her cheek. “It’s okay, butterfly. Remember what I told you—what happened that night isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I’m not going to apologize for it, because it was the best night of my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But I am sorry for making you so anxious you couldn’t eat. It won’t happen again. But you need to eat. Can you eat, for Daddy?”

“It was the best night of your life?” She was still stuck on that.

“Yes, butterfly. Nothing compares. Nothing.” My voice was fierce.

“Okay.” She reached for the fork, but I grabbed it from her.

“No, Daddy’s going to feed you,” I told her, spinning pasta around the fork and holding it up to her lips.

After a moment, she opened her mouth and let me feed her. Each time she put her lips around the tines and accepted the food from me, my cock got harder. It wasn’t hard to picture doing this another time, with her in my lap, my cock deep inside her as she took food from me.

Along with my hard cock, my heart felt full. Deeply satisfied, just like I’d known it would. She was eating the food I’d bought for her, made for her, and now was feeding her directly. It settled something in me I hadn’t realized had felt off until now. This was my purpose. This was what I was supposed to be doing with my life—taking care of her. It was all I wanted, and it was almost within reach.

After chewing, she said, “Mace, I have a question for you.”

“Go for it.”

“This summer…was taking naked pictures of me your idea?”

I’d been waiting for this. “No. But it was my fault. I hadn’t realized how jealous Tiffanie was. I should’ve. None of those pictures made it online, by the way. I made everyone delete all of them off their phones. And I never spoke to her again.”

She nodded. “I knew the photos didn’t make it online. But why didn’t you tell me at the time?”

I sighed, taking her hand in mine. It was so small, so delicate. Everything about her was delicate. “I couldn’t let on that it pissed me off, or those assholes would have done worse. And I was so angry at you, I didn’t want to tell you. Tried to tell myself that you leaving was the right thing.”

“Why were you so angry?”

I stabbed some salad with the fork and brought it to her lips. She took it easily, chewing and swallowing. Color had returned to her cheeks, and she seemed more like herself. Relief swamped me.

“Mason.”

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