He carved his name into my hand! What had he said?
Don’t worry. It will scar.
Why would he do this? The tender way he pressed his mouth to my hand was at complete odds with the action itself. Of all the things I thought he was doing, it never occurred to me that he would be actually branding me.
Fuck.
I step into the shower and begin cleaning myself, being extra gentle around my pussy that’s still sore from his teasing. It was meant to be a punishment.
I know that, but I know what the reward could look like.
I remember the way he ruined me in my apartment and the night he let me in that small bit to see the version of him that was before this current one. He let me see Milo. And I know that means something.
Though my situation is dire, I find myself wanting the reward—the ruination. The way his body was made for mine is undeniable. At either end of his attention, positive and negative, it lights me up just the same.
Gentle cleaning leads to a more thorough massage as I recall what he did to me.
With a frustrated huff, I stop before I get anywhere with my fingers. I know it’s senseless to even try and get a quick orgasm myself. I’ve been in the same position before.Nothing will help me get there.Milohas completely taken over my pleasure like a bulldozer and my delicate tinkering will do nothing to ease the ache—only frustrate me further.
Besides, my hand is sizzling with the soap and warm water. I’d likely hurt myself more trying to do anything about it.
If he said they would scar, then I’m sure he knew that for a fact. I would have his name on my hand for the rest of my life.
Why would he do that?
Further reassured that his goal is not to kill me, but to get answers can work in my favor.
Men are so easy.
I have to remember that. As long as he underestimates me, I can use this to my advantage.
Turning off the water, I grab my towel and quickly dry off.
When I turn the corner out of the room, I’m stopped in my musing by Milo standing there tall and imposing with a snake around his head. The thick body like a head band where the arrow-like head bobs out toward me.
“Have a good shower?” He asks as if everything hasn’t changed between us since the last time I saw him.
I take a step backward but Milo grabs me by the arm. My grip tightens on the towel I have around me.
“Where you going?”
“I don’t want to be in your way. Just gonna go get some clothes and—” My words cut off abruptly as his head lowers to mine and he takes my lips in a kiss that lingers. One moment, I’m nervous of who I’ll find and then the next I know it’s Milo.
Milo, the protective man who opened up to me and showed me how he fought for respect. Or Blue, the man who demands everything with nothing in return, but what he’s willing to give.
It’s Milo who pulls my body into his and kisses down my jaw to my neck. He inhales me deeply, lips leaving a burning path to my shoulder. I feel the weight before I recognize that it’s not his hand on my other shoulder.
My eyes snap open.
His snake has begun to make a path for itself over my shoulder. I don’t know what to do, so I hold my arm out like some kind of paralyzed tree and it takes that opportunity to explore my left arm. I’m grateful it’s not my healing hand that it’s making its way toward because I haven’t ruled out that this massive thing won’t eat me. It’s heavy and if I were weaker, then it might be a struggle to hold it up.
Blue pays the snake no attention as his hand squeezes my waist. He nips my neck and then back to my lips. I’m breathing hard and my pulse is racing.
Why is it that nothing with this man is simple?
Just a kiss and I’m holding a moving predator that weighs as much as a barbell on one side and giving into a much larger predator taking in my very essence for his pleasure.
“Come here,” he says.