16. Luna

Chapter 16

Luna

T he razor feels unnaturally heavy in my hand. But the pills do, too. Both are tantalizingly familiar.

The blade offers me a momentary release.

So do the drugs.

If I open my skin and feel the blood trickle down my leg, I will experience the rush of dopamine that is so very addictive. I will take back control of my emotions.

But it will not last, and the come down, the guilt, the shame, will be almost unbearable.

The pills do not carry the same risks. I hate that I depend on them. But they are meant to help me not hurt me.

That is what I am telling myself as I stare at them.

I run my finger over the foil packet. The temptation to hear the ‘pop' the foil makes when I free the pill is almost unbearable. My body aches with need for it.

But not taking them is the only control I have over him.

Lucien.

In the dark, I close my eyes and visualize the razor and the pills and how they look in my pale aching hands. One allows me to claim some control over my emotions. The other offers control over my circumstances.

But if I don't take the pills, I will be in too much pain to even contemplate finding a way out of here.

I am still trying to make my choice when the bedroom door clatters open. Lights flicker to life, but they are muted and cast a dim glow instead of a powerful illumination.

Still, I blink to adjust my eyes.

Lucien is standing in the doorway, breathing hard. Chest rising and falling. He strides toward me, slamming the door closed as he moves.

"What are you doing with that?" He points at the razor.

Looking at it now, seeing it in my palm, I'm not sure whether I am more or less tempted to use it.

Before I can answer, he snatches it from me and throws it across the room. It meets the wall with such force the plastic handle snaps in two.

"Take the pills," he says.

I tighten my fist around the pill packet. "Tell me why I'm here. Why I'm really here. Then I'll take them."

"You are in pain." He growls and takes hold of my wrist. "Take the pills."

Staring up at him, tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away, but I can't. I look away from him. His grip loosens, and he moves away from me.

When he returns, he's holding a glass of water.

I let him take the packet from my hand and free two pills. When he presses them back into my palm, he holds the glass to my lips.

Suddenly, every ounce of fight is gone.

I do not argue.

My body is pleading with me to give in.

The pain is too much.

I place them onto my tongue and let him feed me a drink of water to swallow them down with.

Lucien sighs, and nods at me as if he is truly incredibly relieved.

"Why do you care if I take them?" I whisper.

"Because I cannot watch you in pain." His words are gentle, but his tone is not. Like he cannot stand the fact he cares about my discomfort.

He glances down at my thighs, then over at the razor that now lies in pieces on the floor.

Uncomfortable, I press my legs together.

How did he know?

Once again, the idea that he has been watching me flits into my mind, but it almost instantly dissolves and floats away because Lucien is getting down on his knees in front of me.

As I watch him, he reaches out with torturously slow hands. I wince as his touch meets my legs.

I never let anyone see this part of me. I keep my scars covered. Always.

Steven saw them, and he was appalled. His eyes grew dark, and he tutted, and told me never to let him see them again.

After that, we had sex in the dark. I showered with the door locked and made sure I was fully covered by a towel before I entered the bedroom.

I look down at Lucien. His eyes meet mine as he catches the hem of the towel and slides it further up my legs. Over my thighs until I am fully exposed.

My skin is still damp, still warm, and I am not wearing any underwear.

He parts my legs, and exhales slowly. Then he takes his hand and moves it over my inner thigh. His palm levitates above my skin. He does not touch me, but the change in pressure of the air between us makes me shudder.

When he does touch me, it is with one finger only. He traces each scar slowly, and I watch him transfixed.

"Did you do this to yourself kitten?" he breathes.

I nod, unable to speak.

His eyes flash with anger, but not the anger that Steven showed me. Lucien's anger is different. He is not ashamed of me or of the scars. He is angry that I felt the need to do this to myself.

He does not ask me why.

He just moves slowly closer, still on his knees in front of me.

His hands slide round to hold my hips, and he fixes his gaze on mine. "When did you last hurt yourself?" he asks.

I swallow hard. I want to tell him I haven't done it for years, but that would be a lie.

"A month ago." I point to my ankle. The faint outline of a cut from a razor blade is just about visible.

He cups my heel with both hands and lifts my foot to his mouth, then kisses it. My ankle. The scar.

I close my eyes, and a soft murmur parts my lips.

But then he lowers my foot back to the floor and meets my eyes again. "You were thinking about hurting yourself here? In my house?"

"It makes me feel... in control." I have never tried to explain to anyone before.

Lucien's jaw twitches. He licks his fangs.

This time, firmly, he says, "You will never hurt yourself again." He holds my gaze, and I simply cannot look away.

Something in his voice makes me nod, breathless, tingling all over.

His grip tightens on my hips.

"You need to hurt something, you hurt me." He grabs my hand, takes my fingers, and drags my nails down his throat so that three red scratch marks appear. A tiny bead of blood appears on his skin, then disappears almost instantly.

"You need to feel something, you come to me."

He kisses me. Deeply. His tongue caresses mine, and I moan into his mouth.

When he pulls away, he holds my face with one large, strong hand. "Do you understand, kitten?"

I nod again, trembling at the way the nickname kitten feels as it lands on my skin.

Lucien stands up and tweaks his finger under my chin. "You will never disrespect your body again. Am I making myself clear, Luna?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Lucien." The words tumble from my lips, and his eyes flash. He grabs my face. His lips slam into mine. When he pulls away, leaving me breathless, he says, "How do you feel now? Do you feel in control?"

I shake my head.

"Do you need to hurt something?"

I don't know what I need. I feel out of control but not in the way I normally do. I feel like I want to give myself to him. Every bit. And let him do what he wants with me. Like I want him to make me feel so much that I feel nothing at all.

"No. Not now." I reach for his belt, tuck my thumbs into it and stare up at him. "I need something else."