Giving In (Surrender Trilogy #2)(34)

He tasted of the wine they’d drunk. That and something altogether different. Heady. Masculine. The taste was undefinable. But she liked it. A lot.

She breathed out a soft sigh as his arms wrapped around her, turning her more solidly so the angle was better. His lips never left hers, his mouth devouring hers hungrily.

She was lost in a cascade of sensation, dizzying, intensely pleasurable and also warm and soothing. Her br**sts ached, pressed flat against his chest. Her ni**les beaded, pushing outward as if begging for his attention. His mouth.

Shocked that she’d have such a thought, she went still, the strong beat of his heart thudding against her chest. His respirations were fast, rushing into her mouth and over her face.

And then he lowered her to the couch, angling his body over hers, pressing hard and heavy down on her. Panic snaked up her spine as dark memories surfaced, clawing their way to the present.

She lost her sense of awareness. Of where she was and who she was with. All she knew was that she was in immediate danger. His strength overwhelmed her. She felt helpless. Weak. Unable to prevent whatever he wanted to do to her.

Blackness gushed through her mind, wiping away all sense of euphoria and safety. Her chest caught on fire as she desperately tried to breathe but found no air. Her throat constricted as she tried to scream. To beg him to stop. To have mercy. Not to hurt her.

And then self-preservation kicked in and she began to fight. She went wild beneath this predator, wanting only to escape the harm he intended. She scratched, kicked, and finally was able to gather enough breath to scream.

Hysteria rose sharp, quickly overwhelming her. She was unaware of the firm hands around her wrists, holding them so she couldn’t hurt him or herself. Of the soothing voice calling her name. Telling her it was all right.

She dimly registered those things, but they were so distant. All she was cognizant of was her will to survive. Not to ever again endure what she’d endured before.

Tears bathed her face and she became aware of a high keening sound. It was coming from her. God, it was her making that god-awful sound. Why wouldn’t it stop?

“Kylie! Kylie! Listen to me. It’s me, Jensen. You’re safe, baby. God, please come back to me. I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”

The entire room was spinning like some crazy Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair. Nausea rose, swift and violent, and she bolted upward, the bands around her wrists suddenly gone.

She hunched over in a protective position, shielding her most vulnerable parts. Her ribs, her belly, places that could easily be injured. Wetness soaked into her shirt sleeves and she realized she was sobbing. Giant, silent sobs welling from the deepest recesses of her chest.

A strong hand hesitantly touched her shoulder and she flinched, turning, determined to ward off an attack.

“Kylie, God, baby. It’s me. Please, baby. Look at me. See me.”

Jensen’s worried plea broke through the haze. Some of the panic dissipated, leaving her with only humiliation and abject despair. She was broken. Broken. Unfixable. Nothing would ever be right. Not for her. Never again.

She buried her face in her arms and rocked back and forth, too mortified to even look at him. How crazy he must think she was. Not think. Knew.

“Please, just go away,” she begged, her voice muffled by her arms. “Please. I can’t bear it. I’m so sorry. Just go. Please. I’m sorry.”

“Goddamn it, you won’t apologize for this,” he seethed.

The fury in his voice made her wary again and she risked a quick peek at him to gauge his temper, readying herself for the violence that would surely follow.

But he was sitting a distance from her, almost as if he were careful to maintain a barrier between them. A barrier she’d erected. Damn it, but when would she stop freaking out? Could she ever expect to have a normal life? Was it too much to ask?

Another sob welled low in her throat and tears ran like rivers down her cheeks.

“Tell me what to do to help you, baby.”

Jensen’s voice was pleading. He sounded desperate and as out of sorts as she was.

“It’s not your fault,” she choked out. “It’s me. I’m sorry. It’s me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“The hell I didn’t,” he bit out. “It was a stupid, boneheaded thing of me to have done. I got carried away. That’s on me. Not you. Goddamn it, Kylie. I’m so sorry.”

She lifted her head, shaking it almost violently, tears still running in rivulets down her face.

“No,” she said, her voice cracking. “Not your fault. Please, just go. I just want to be alone.”

He looked uncertain. It was obvious he didn’t want to leave her in her present state but neither did he want to further upset her.

“I’ll be okay,” she said, attempting to reassure him. “I’ll be fine. Just go. I’ve ruined everything.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this,” he said, fury lacing his voice. “I did this to you. I reminded you of him and I’d goddamn die before ever making you feel that way with me. I can’t stomach the thought.”

She lowered her head miserably to her arms, grief overwhelming her. Jensen had been nothing but kind and gentle with her. So very understanding. And she’d repaid him by making him feel like some abusive ass**le. Her father. Oh God, why couldn’t she control her reactions? Why did she have to freak out the minute things got heavy?