Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(91)

God, she was amazing. And he loved her.

Jesus, he really did. This was what he’d wanted with others and never found—she not only cared for him, but she’d also given him this profound trust. He didn’t feel deserving, but he’d protect her gift with everything in his power. His arms closed more forcefully around her, and rather than pulling away, she cuddled closer.

Yeah, he could stay right here with her in his arms…forever.

Unfortunately, eventually, he had to move. After disposing of the condom, he brought back a warm washcloth and ignored her objections as he cleaned her sensitive pussy and ass. Sure, she could do it—as she said—but why deny himself the pleasure?

He’d found a bruise ointment on her bathroom counter—probably for Carson. This time, it would be for her. “Hold still, sweetheart. This will help keep you from bruising.” Sitting beside her, he rolled her toward him onto her face…and massaged the medication into her reddened ass.

“Hey! No, stop. Dammit.” Her voice was so husky from multiple orgasms that even her outraged protests were sexy.

He grinned. Was it perverse to enjoy seeing the red handprints he’d left on her white skin?

Years ago, when he’d entered the BDSM lifestyle, leaving marks had made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world. Now, he’d learned the right amount of pain could open the way to a truly mind-blowing orgasm for a woman.

And the removal of a submissive’s control over her own pain and pleasure could enhance the bond between them.

As it had tonight.

Did Josie realize trust went both ways?

Setting the ointment on the nightstand, he finished stripping and joined her on the bed. She was a soft bundle as he pulled her against him and put his arm under her head.

She blinked, her eyes slightly red from tears and sleepy with satisfaction. “You’re an evil, mean person. I think you enjoyed applying that ointment far too much.”

“I did.” He kissed her lightly.

Her tiny snort of exasperation made him grin. As she looked up at him, her brows drew together, her gaze focusing on the rough scarring beneath his chin. With a light touch, she ran her fingers over it.

“Josie.”

Not answering, she pushed herself up. Her face showed no expression…at first…as she traced his scar from temple to jaw. Touched the burn scar on his neck. Bent to kiss the shiny burn scars on his shoulders.

His heart was melting inside his chest.

Exploring further, she found more burns. The still healing, slightly raised knife slices on his forearms. A few marks from his childhood when he hadn’t dodged his aunt’s boyfriend fast enough.

Her lip quivered when she touched the long knife wound on his belly. “Oh, God, Holt. You’ve had such a painful life.”

Damn, she was killing him. “Sweetheart, they’re just surface scars.” He pulled her down on top of him, all soft tenderhearted woman. “You have just as many, but they’re buried deep.”

“I…probably. They might be healing up a bit, though.”

“I’m pleased.” That was what he hoped to achieve. He ran his fingers through her hair. “And I’m pleased with what we did tonight. You enjoyed yourself, it seemed.”

“Mmm.” Her lips curved slightly as she laid her hand on his cheek. “Honestly, I think I’m in shock.”

“Well…” He put his hand on top of hers, holding her palm against his cheek. Would this make her retreat? Yet honesty and open communication were a Dom’s duty. “I think I’m in love.”

Joy. Yes, he could see happiness bloom in her eyes before she shut it all down. “No. No, you can’t—”

“Mmm. I’m pretty sure I can.”

Her eyes were huge. Appalled. “No, Sir.”

Yes, he had more work in front of him. “Josie, I love you.” Gently, he pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Relax, pet. There’s no hurry, no obligation.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I have a fair notion of how you feel about me, Josie.” If there hadn’t been more than friendship between them, the little subbie would never have let him tie her up or spank her—and she sure wouldn’t have come like that. Because for a woman, an orgasm was the most intimate gift she could give.

Josie might be submissive, but she was the kind of woman who needed to trust to let go truly. She had opened to him, given him her body and her climaxes.

More than that, she cared for him. Everything she did showed it.

But would it be enough to overcome the hurts in her past and her worry about Holt being in Carson’s life?

Well, he was a patient man, and healing was what he loved to do.





Chapter Eighteen





“Honestly, Laurent, get over it.” On Friday afternoon, Josie glared at the words on her computer monitor. Redheaded Laurent should be acting like a heroine, working on her fire control. Not gazing into Tigre’s eyes and getting all melty.

Damn that Tigre anyway. The inspiration she’d used for him was the muscular, blond Thor from the Avengers movies.

And now Josie had a walking, talking example of the sexy Thunder God living next door.

“Now, listen to me, girl,” she ordered Laurent in her best authorial voice. “I totally know why you’d fall for Tigre but too bad. No romance. Period.” It didn’t matter if the girl got flutters and weak legs whenever she saw the guy. And there would be no surging joy at words of love.