Chapter Seven

Dorothy

Three weeks later…

"Morgue?" For the first time in weeks, I woke up alone. Even when he woke up before me, Morgue was always at my side. Just like he'd promised, he didn't leave me. "Morgue!"

"In here, honey." His muffled voice came from the bathroom where I now heard the shower running. My heart rate slowed, and relief flooded through me. He'd left the bathroom door open. I should have known. He was never more than a room away, and never with anything between. Not even a closed door unless he told me why, which was always the bathroom. Anything else, he did with me in the room.

I was lucky. So very fucking lucky to have Morgue with me. If I needed a reminder of that fact, all I had to do was spend time with the other women they'd pulled out of that place. All of them were scared of their shadows. When I looked into their eyes, I saw women who'd given up hope. They'd accept their fates, whatever they were, and wouldn't lift a finger to defend themselves. They all needed protectors like Morgue, but I wasn't giving him up. Not for the other women. Not for anyone.

I climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, leaning against the door. The shower walls were clear but fogged with condensation from the hot water. I'd watched Morgue shower every day, and I never got tired of looking at his naked body.

He was thickly muscled. Tall and powerful. Not for the first time, I wanted the right to trace all those muscles with my hands and lips. I never thought I'd feel this way about a man after my captivity, and I probably never would about anyone else. But Morgue? Yeah. I really wanted him to be mine. I wanted to be his. He never gave me any indication he was sexually attracted to me, and I think that hurt more than I was willing to admit.

"Are you watching me again?" Morgue didn't pause as he washed his hair and beard. Ducking under the spray, he rinsed away the shampoo, scrubbing his hands over his head and face.

"Do you mind?"

"You know I don't."

I took a tentative step toward the shower before I could stop myself. Taking the collar of his T-shirt I wore in my fingers, I tucked my thumb into the material and brought it to my nose. I always stole his shirt after he took it off at the end of the day. It smelled like him, and I loved having the scent surrounding me. Not that it mattered much what I wore. By the time we woke up each morning, his scent was on anything I wore. It often made me wonder if my skin would smell like his if we both slept naked. Fanciful thinking, I knew, but the more time I spent with Morgue, the more I realized that, even if we'd met under different circumstances and I didn't see him as anything but who he was and not my hero, I'd still want him with every fiber of my being.

He rarely smiled, was surly as a goat, and as antisocial as anyone I'd ever met. But he was loyal and honorable. He kept his word to me, no matter what he had to do. I was helpless to guard my heart from him, even if I tried.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" I have no idea where I found the courage to ask that question, but I wanted permission to be in there with him.

Morgue faced me, shaking his head and slinging water in all directions. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wiping water out of his eyes. He placed his other palm on the clear shower wall, giving me his front. There was no disguising his interest. His cock stood at attention in the nest of dark curls at his groin.

"You're always welcome anywhere I am, Dorothy. I think you know that." He'd started using more than one- and two-word sentences a couple weeks ago, a sure sign he was more at ease with me. His words flowed more effortlessly now, the dark timbre of his voice sending thrills through me when I never thought I'd feel this way again. Hell, had I ever been this aroused?

I held my ground, unyielding to the intensity of his stare. "I'm not afraid of you, you know." I didn't make a move toward the shower but didn't take my gaze from Morgue. All that muscled, tattooed skin was mesmerizing and utterly captivating.

"If you were, I doubt I'd be in your bed every night, holding you while you slept."

"I think, technically, it's your bed."

His response was instant and insistent. "It's as much your bed as it is mine." If he looked amused or anything other than deadly serious, I didn't see it. "Either way, you sleep in my arms every fuckin' night when no one else ever has, woman. You have me."

I took that as the invitation it was, peeling off my shirt and panties, then climbing into the shower with him. The water hit me in a gentle spray, tickling my skin. Morgue kept his gaze on me the entire time. He studied me like I studied him. Hungrily.

"Nothing happens you don't want to happen, Dorothy. You can stop at any time."

"What makes you think I'd want to stop?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes, things that seem comfortable at the time don't stay that way. I'm a big man. The last thing I want is to accidentally frighten you."

Desire won out over caution. I had the feeling it always would with Morgue. I closed the distance between us until our bodies nearly collided with each breath we took. "Of all the people in the world, Morgue, you are the one person who could never frighten me."

I placed my palms on his chest and slid them upward until I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. Morgue's hands rested on my hips.

"If you don't want me to kiss you, I suggest you step away."

Instead of stepping back, I smiled up at him. "I got in here hoping to do more than kiss you."

"You sure?" He tightened his grip on my hips, still holding me securely even as he tried to give me an out.

"Do you really want me to move away from you, or is it that you feel like you have to give me the choice?"

"I do have to give you the choice. It's always your choice."

"Then I choose you. But only if you want me back."

He chuckled then, a soft laugh I hoped would always and only be for me. It was one of the few times I'd heard him express amusement. Pulling me close so that his hard cock mashed into my belly, he grinned at me. "Pretty sure this means I want you back, baby. I'll take whatever you want to give me and be thankful I was your choice."

"Good." I breathed the word as I pulled myself up to kiss him.

He was gentle as he kissed me, coaxing when I wasn't sure I needed convincing. I loved that he was gentle at first, then, as I responded with more and more fervor, he became more aggressive. Nothing too overt, but he left no doubt how much he truly wanted me. He moved one hand from my hip to gently cup a breast, teasing my nipple into a hardened peak. The sensation ignited a fire within me that threatened to consume me.

With the water sluicing over us, Morgue continued to tease and tug at that nipple while he kissed me with wicked flicks of his tongue.

He groaned against my mouth as I kissed him back. He was so hard, and it felt so good to have his arms around me. His heart pounded against my chest as if we shared the same heartbeat. For now, Morgue was the only thing keeping me from despair, who made me feel anything other than terror after those terrible weeks before he'd rescued me.

He ran his fingers gently through my hair as I held onto him tightly, a reminder of how careful he'd been when he'd detangled my hair in those first few days I'd been fully awake and alert. I remember telling him to just hack it off and he'd grunted his displeasure. Then he'd taken the next two hours and patiently, carefully, worked through the matted mess until he could run the comb through it without even a hint of a snag.

The feel of his wet, hair-roughened skin against me was even better than I could have imagined. After everything that had happened to me, I thought I would feel at least a sliver of panic, but all I felt was safe. I thought the passion I was feeling now as he expertly played with my body should scare me, but I embraced it eagerly, needing this. Needing Morgue.

I slid my hands down his torso, tracing the lines of his tattoos, feeling each ripple of muscle under my fingertips. He let out a low grunt into my mouth as I playfully bit his bottom lip.

"Woman," he growled. "That little dance is gonna get you in trouble."

"What dance?" I asked with mock innocence. "This one?" I nipped him again.

His arms went around me like steel bands as he held me close. "Damned straight, that fuckin' dance. Dreamt about this moment so many fuckin' times. When I held you. When I watched you interact with my club. Every fuckin' time you look at me like I'm your lifeline. 'Cause you're damned sure mine."

I whimpered, need riding me even harder at his rough confession. "Me too. I wish I'd been brave enough to tell you before."

"You're the bravest person I know, Dorothy. You're dealing with your life as it is now. Maybe slowly, but you're dealing. Some of the others aren't. You know that because you've done everything you can to help those women. Makes me so fuckin' proud."

His lips found mine again, and he kissed me with more fervor this time. As he slid his tongue into my mouth, he bunched his fist in my hair. It wasn't hard, but it definitely had a bite to it. Strangely, instead of being a trigger to some buried memory, all I felt was a spike of heat.

I moaned into his mouth and curled my arms around him, so my nails raked from his shoulders down his back. He jerked at the slight pain, a deep growl building in his throat.

"Woman… fuck!"

He bent his knees, adjusting his hold around me, then lifted so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist as he walked us to the bench at the back wall of the shower.

Planting a knee on the bench, he laid me on my back. It was a cramped fit, but when he shoved my legs to my shoulders, he had enough room to kneel and bury his face in my pussy.

"Morgue! Oh, God! Yes!" My cries were loud, echoing off the walls.

Morgue's rough beard scraped against my inner thighs as he growled against the soft, wet flesh between my legs. His hot breath fanned the sensitive folds of my pussy, and he didn't tease anymore as he lapped at me. One hand held my knee pinned against my chest, his fingers digging into my skin, while the other squeezed my breast roughly, pinching my nipple between thumb and forefinger.

I cried out again, arching into his touch as he sucked on me like he was starved for me. He got up, leaving my clit exposed to the spray of water. Wrapping one arm around my back, Morgue moved me again. This time, he sat on the bench with me straddling his hips, our bodies pressed together as he ground his cock against my belly. He was big, and I shuddered in anticipation.

Morgue paused. "You good, baby?"

"Yes," I breathed. "But I'm not sure how much longer I can wait." I pulled back to cup his bearded face in my hands. "I can't stress enough how much I really want this, Morgue. Want you."

"Yes," he growled. "Want you." Yeah, he was devolving again, but I loved it. I could actually feel him trembling as much as I was. "Fuckin' need you, woman."

His other hand cupped my face, holding me still for his kisses. He took possession of my mouth again. This time it was truly a possession. He wasn't holding back, and it fueled that fire he'd so effortlessly created.

Our tongues danced wildly together, and I moved against him, stroking his cock with my belly. As I opened my eyes, I watched the water droplets roll down his body, his muscles flexing and pulsing under his slick skin as he held onto me like I was all that mattered in his world.

I'd never been kissed like this. Hard, demanding, then soft and caressing. It left me breathless and needy for more of him.

I latched onto his neck, nibbling at the skin just above his shoulder. When he pulled back, it was to position his cock between my legs, aiming for my pussy.

"Ready?" His gruff question made me all the hotter, wanting him. Needing him to fuck me like he meant to keep me.

"More than. Please, Morgue! I need this so much!" I was on the verge of crying, I was so turned on. I'd never really understood the phrase "hurts so good" until now. There was pain when he pulled my hair, but I fed off it. There was the pain of unfulfilled desire when he didn't immediately fill me with his cock. And, when I came, I knew the intensity would be a shock to my innocent system, but I knew I'd embrace it. I'd never been with a man before Spring Break, and I didn't remember anything that happened during my captivity so, as far as I was concerned, this was my first time.

Slowly, carefully, watching my every expression, Morgue slid inside me. There was a sharp pinch I hadn't expected to feel, and I gasped. Sex wasn't supposed to hurt once your hymen was broken. Right?

"Dorothy, talk to me." He'd stopped, and I wasn't sure I wanted him to continue just yet.

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Talk." He reached up and turned off the water. He shook his head, sending water droplets flying again before scrubbing one hand over his face to clear his vision of the water. When he finished, he gave me a hard stare.

"There's… there was a… something. A sharp pain. But it's easing off already."

As if testing me, Morgue slid farther inside me. Not much, just enough to test my reaction. When I continued to meet his steady gaze, he slid in farther until he was seated as far as he could go. Instead of immediately pulling out, however, Morgue pulled back, spreading my legs as wide as they would go. When he pulled back, he did so slowly with his gaze fixed on my pussy. His brow furrowed, his features tightening. "There's blood."

"What?" I raised up on my elbows to look between us. Sure enough, a thin trail of blood smeared over his cock.

"You hurt? Or is it time for your period?"

I looked up at him, confused. "It pinched a little at first, but it doesn't hurt at all now. And maybe? I don't know!"

He shook his head once, then slid back inside carefully. When he pulled back out, there was still a small amount of blood, but it was less than before. So, he did it again. With each movement, every time my pussy stretched to accommodate his girth and my clit got friction, my body threatened to combust. There was no more blood. The thought that maybe I'd managed to squeak through that place without being raped wanted to form in my mind and with it a relief so sharp and stark it would have sent me into a sea of tears and snot. But I wasn't going to focus on that just now. Because, if that wasn't the case, my devastation would be just as hard as the relief.

"Sweet God," I moaned, arching my back. My tits thrust upward. "That feels so fucking good!"

Morgue grunted. Instead of continuing, however, he pulled me into his arms and picked me up, still impaling me on his cock. I gave a little squeal, but he ignored me as he stepped out of the shower. We were both soaking wet.

He snagged a towel before setting me on the vanity and placing the towel around my shoulders. With brisk movements, he dried me, then gave his upper body a little going over before he put his hands on either side of my hips and gave me a fierce look. He was still inside me. "Now. Tell me. How much did I hurt you?"

"It was only a small pain, Morgue. Honest. There, then gone. The pleasure is so much more than the pain, and it's not even fading now. It's completely gone. There's a little bit of a burn where you're stretching me, but it only adds to how good this feels." I could feel tears gathering in my eyes. "Please don't stop. Please. I need to know what…" I closed my eyes as two tears coursed down my cheeks. "I need to know what comes next."

"Fuck." He scrubbed a hand over his face. This time, instead of getting rid of water, I got the feeling he was trying like hell to figure out what to do. "You swear, Dorothy? I mean, really fuckin' swear?"

I couldn't help but grin. "Yeah. I really fuckin' do."

There were several beats of silence, then Morgue barked out a laugh. Then chuckled. Then outright guffawed. Tears streamed from his eyes in his mirth, but his cock was still hard as stone inside me. "You are a rare treasure, my little Dorothy. I am proud to call you mine."

I thought he might fuck me then, take me and push us both over the edge. Instead, he wrapped his arms around me again and carried me back into the bedroom and moved us both on to the bed. I thought he would settle himself over my naked body, however, Morgue rolled us gently so that I was on top of him with his cock still inside me.

"Now. You want this, you do the work," he said. "I'm not gonna hurt you because I'm so fuckin' horny I can't control my fuckin' self." He swept his hands up and down my hips and thighs in a soothing yet tantalizing caress. When I didn't immediately move, he urged me up and down, and I understood what he wanted me to do. I braced my hands on his chest and started riding him.

It took me a minute to get the right angle, but the second I did and my clit scraped over his skin with every motion, my movements became more assertive. I gasped as I moved, my hips snapping forward and backward as I rode him. Morgue's breathing was heavy and deep, the occasional grunt broke free, but he was otherwise silent, watching me intently.

I threw my head back and screamed. The peak I'd known was on the horizon crested but was shy of what I thought it would be. I was missing something I had no idea how to express. Or maybe this was all there was?

"Dorothy?" Morgue hadn't taken his pleasure. I think he was too busy making sure I was OK to let himself go.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could think of to say. "Thank you for this." I started to climb off him, but Morgue grasped my hips, stilling me.

"What's wrong? You have to talk to me."

I smiled at him. "We both seem to devolve to one- or two-word sentences on occasion. I'm not sure the conversation would be all that informative."

"You need something else." It wasn't a question. "Tell me."

I shrugged helplessly, doing my best to fight off tears. "I don't know! There seemed like there was going to be more than… I don't know. It just went away."

"Did you have sex before you left for Cancún?"

I shook my head. "No."

"So, you were a virgin."

"Yes."

Very slowly, probably so he didn't frighten me, and I had time to stop him if it triggered me, Morgue rolled us until he settled his weight on top of me. The change was immediate. I gasped as he rocked his hips from side to side to position himself comfortably.

"You tell me if it's too much or you don't like me pinning you down. Yes?"

"I promise."

Morgue started to move then. His hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Every motion sent more and more friction over my clit. My breath hitched as I climbed that elusive peak once more. When he leaned down to kiss me, I thrust my hips back at him. It was instinctual on my part. It just felt good.

"That's it, baby. I'm gonna take care of you." His words were between kisses and against my lips in a breathy whisper. "I'll always take care of you."

I dug my heels into his ass, urging him on like spurring a horse. Morgue complied. This time, his breathing was as ragged as mine and I knew he would never lead me wrong in sex. He'd always find the best way to our mutual satisfaction. That was the moment I realized that I'd never want another man. Never. Only Morgue. And I didn't even know his name.

The epiphany shook my concentration just enough for me to fall over that peak I'd been heading toward before I had the chance to fully appreciate it. It was like starting up that first major hill on a roller coaster and immediately dozing off. Then, the second you wake, you're starting over the hill, looking straight down at the track but unable to see the bottom. It was fucking terrifying. And I screamed in ecstasy.