Branded (Ignite #2)

“The first time he did it, I was eight years old. I spilled a glass of milk on the kitchen table. He held me down and pushed his cigarette into me, laughing the entire time.”

My throat gets thick with emotion, but I don’t say a word. I turn gently onto my side and stare at the back of her head while she continues to speak in a low, monotone voice like a robot.

“I never did anything right. I ruined his life and I paid for it over and over. The first time he called me a whore I was nine. I didn’t even know what that word meant, but I knew it was horrible by the way he practically spit it at me.”

I close my eyes and want more than anything to beg her to stop. Stop speaking, stop the world from spinning so I can go back in time and make sure no one ever hurt her, but I keep my mouth shut. She needs to tell me this and I need to hear it. I need to know how to take it all away.

“Day after day, year after year, it never stopped. He kept holding me down to punish me for being just like my mother and I let him do it. I let him turn me into this person who can’t even be happy for two weeks. I push people away because I can’t stand the thought of them finding out that I’m not worth their love. I hate who I’ve become. I hate that just the sound of his voice turns me into that weak little girl who couldn’t fight back.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek and I don’t even care that it’s the most un-fucking-manly thing in the world. I would cry a thousand tears for this woman just to prove to her that she’s worth EVERYTHING.

After a few minutes of silence, she whispers again. “Turn on the light.”

Even though I’m confused by her words, I lean back and flip the switch to the small bedside lamp, quickly turning back to face her. The tiny bulb barely lights up the bed area, but it’s bright enough for me to see her reach down to her waist and pull the t-shirt up her body and over her head. She tosses it to the foot of the bed and I hold my breath as she slowly pushes the covers down to her waist.

I take in every inch of her smooth, naked back, shoving my fist against my mouth when I get to the area right above her underwear. With a shaking hand, I reach out, running my fingertips over the scarred flesh. My fingers trace over about fifty tiny circles that are the exact same size as the butt of a cigarette. They are faded and white, but clearly visible on her beautiful skin. The fact that she’s showing me these scars and trusts me with the secrets of her past is equal parts amazing and horrifying. I don’t want her to have these marks on her skin, I don’t want her to wear a permanent reminder on her body for the rest of her life that some piece of shit thought she wasn’t good enough. I don’t know how to take away her pain, to make her believe she’s better than anyone I’ve ever known. There’s nothing I can do but show her.

Scooting down on the bed, I lean forward and take my time kissing each and every scar. I tell her I love her after each kiss. I tell her she’s beautiful after each kiss. I tell her she’s strong after each kiss.

She turns suddenly, rolling onto her back and I see that her cheeks are wet with tears. She puts her hands on either side of my face and pulls me up her body, pressing her lips to mine. I can taste the salt from her tears on her lips as she wraps her arms around my back and pulls me on top of her under the covers. Her hands slide down the skin of my back and her fingers hook into the waistband of my boxers, pushing them down my hips. I keep my lips attached to hers as I lean on one arm and use my hand to push them down far enough to wiggle out of them and kick them under the covers somewhere while she does the same with her own underwear.

She spreads her legs when I roll back on top of her until I’m cradled between her thighs, my cock pressing right against her. She tilts her hips and rubs her wet pussy against my cock, coating the entire length. With my elbows on either side of her head, I pull my head back so I can look into her eyes. I move my ass back and I don’t take my eyes off of her as I slide inside of her, so easy and so perfectly. Another tear falls down her cheek and I kiss it away as I slowly rock my hips.

Each slow push and pull of my cock inside of her sets off shock waves through my entire body. I’ll never get tired of being inside her, of feeling her wrapped around my cock and knowing that for this one moment, we are perfectly connected in every way.

Her hands slide down to my ass, urging me deeper, but this time, there are no shouts of “harder” or “faster.” We take it slow and she finally, FINALLY lets me love her the way she deserves.

Even though I haven’t felt any sensation in the numb, deadened skin of my lower back in years, every kiss DJ places over my scars is like a lightning bolt right to my heart. He shocks me back to life with the press of his lips against my skin and his words of love, strength and beauty overwhelm me. The tears fall steadily from my eyes and I don’t bother to hold them back or hide them. I roll over and let him see that his actions and words have touched a place in my heart and soul that no one has reached before.

He stares into my eyes when he pushes slowly inside of me and it’s the most beautiful, heartbreaking feeling I’ve ever known.

“I see you,” he whispers against my lips as he rocks inside of me, his cock moving slow and deep.

I shudder beneath him, my hips churning up to meet him.

“I see you, and I love all of you,” he whispers again.

He moves his hands down the bed next to my body, sliding them under me to cup my ass and pull me against him. I bring my feet up and plant them on the bed on either side of his thighs so I can push my ass off the bed and meet each of his thrusts. With his hands clutching my ass, he helps me tilt my pelvis upwards so that each time he slides back inside, his cock pushes deeper than I thought possible.