Page 67 of Beautifully Forgiven

I look down at the wet patch she has created under her, and I know she deserves to clean up.

I stand up and start to remove her chains. Her arms flop down beside her and I see she is physically drained. She closes her eyes as exhaustion takes over.

“Not yet, kitten, you need a shower and something to eat.” I lift her and her arms wrap around my neck as she rests her head on my chest. She mumbles incoherently as I walk toward the bathroom.

“Sleep later. Bath time now,” I tell her, looking down as a small smile breaks on her face.

She may tell me she hates me, but I know better. It’s far from hate, it’s something more. Not love because why would she love someone like me? How could she after what I’ve done to her?

I dip down all while I hold her and run her bath. She keeps mumbling and her fingers grip my shirt as the water runs filling up the tub.

I looked down at her small frame cuddled against me.

Fuck.

She feels perfect against me.

By the time I stop the water, Savannah is drifting in and out of sleep. I prop her up and help her into the bath. Her eyes flutter as the hot water hits her.

She moans and relaxes.

My dick twitches inside my pants and I almost come on the spot from watching her.

Shit.

What is happening to me? I’m not supposed to feel anything for this girl, she’s supposed to be an end game, a way to move forward.

I know the time is coming for me to take out her father. I know I want him to watch one last time as I take his daughter in front of him. Just like he made me watch what they all did to my wife before he killed her.

My little kitten is starting to affect me and not in a good way.

The thought of her feeling anything for me other than hate makes this difficult.

I wasn’t planning on staying once I ended Pasquale’s life. If it came down to it, and I had to die for his life to end as well, I would go down knowing I took him with me. But knowing Savannah would be left behind with any kind of feelings for the man she should hate the most in this fucked up world makes it more difficult to carry out the plan I’ve had all along.

I wash her over as she lays there with a smile on her face. I trail the cloth over her curvy breasts and pebbled nipples. She doesn’t even blink when I clean her pussy.

I can’t do this. I can’t stay in here not when my feelings are going haywire watching her like this. So comfortable. So fucking comfortable with me.

My desire for this girl threatens everything I believe in. She consumes me like a fiery inferno.

Before I can stop the words, they spill out and her eyes fly open as they do.

“Run, princess. Run so far away from me, it's your only chance to survive.”

“You want me to run?” She sits up, knees covering her chest, and she blinks at me a few times, her mouth hanging open in shock.

“If you don’t, I’ll take everything from you.” I surprise myself when I give her this warning. Where the fuck did that come from?

“You don't want me to run?” She caresses my chin with her fingers, and I see the confusion all over her face because that's how I look right now. I know I do. My head is telling me to let her go, let her run. But my heart is begging me not to fuck this up and let her go.

“Tell me to run again.” She sits up now kneeling in the tub. Water splashes over the sides and this time she holds my jaw in her hands.

I swallow hard as I watch her stare down at my lips.

Fuck she wants to kiss me.

“Tell me,” she says, inching closer.

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