36. River

THIRTY-SIX

RIVER

I was on my knees staring at this girl, unable to process the way she had me tied.

Trying to process the way my chest was stretched tight to the point of pain. That numbed, frozen place inside me sparking to life. The place I could never let her go.

I had the anguished sense that she might be able to carve herself out a place there, anyway. That she might already be infiltrating it.

My teeth grated as I tried to hold back the surge of emotions that wanted to rush.

This woman who shouldn't be more than a fuck who'd swept into my life and threatened to change everything.

"You good?" I asked because the last thing I wanted to do was cause her more distress.

She nodded against my hands, still gasping for breath, though one side of her swollen lips quirked. "I don't remember a time in my life that I've felt this good."

Satisfaction burned through my insides. "Plenty more where that came from."

A hint of that shyness flushed her cheeks, but she glowed beneath it .

Fuck, how badly I wanted to carry her to my bed and sink deep inside her, but I knew I needed to be careful with her. Careful that I didn't push her too far or too fast.

So, I wrapped my arms around her and pushed to my feet, taking her with me. Her naked flesh burned into mine as I brought her flush to my chest.

She curled her arms around my neck.

Her legs were dangling, and she gave me a soft, sultry giggle that reverberated through the middle of me as I hugged her close. "Don't think I remember a time in my life when I've felt this good, either," I rumbled at her temple.

She sighed and hung on.

"I'm going to put you on your feet and you're going to get dressed, then I'm going to take you back to your room and pretend like it doesn't kill me thinking about doing it, but I don't think you're ready for what I have in store for you yet."

Maybe it was me who needed a fucking minute to get my head on straight. To remember what this had to be. To stop the things that Otto had suggested earlier tonight from invading. Things about making this legit and finding joy for ourselves.

But even if I went clean, I could never undo what I'd already done.

So, I reluctantly placed Charleigh on her feet. Feet that wobbled a bit, her knees weak.

No doubt, she needed a minute, too.

I leaned down to snatch my jeans and underwear from the floor, watching her the whole time as I shoved my feet into them. She peeked over at me as she bent to gather her clothes from the floor.

She'd shifted so she could grab them, and it gave me a bare glimpse of her back.

Her back that was scarred from the middle to the base. Scarred with a thousand gnarled lashes that I was pretty sure had been stacked on top of each other over a period of years.

There'd been no question that she had been abused, but I'd had no fuckin' clue the severity of it, and I was wholly unprepared for the rage that went sailing through my being .

Unprepared for the riot of violence that shot through me like the spray of a thousand bullets.

Impaling.

Ripping and shredding.

Destroying.

Couldn't fuckin' see through the need to bring blood. I moved behind her, my hands in fists as the words scraped from my mouth. "Who the fuck did this to you?"

Because whoever they were? They were going to die.