Iniquitous (The Marked #3)(13)

“And what about the rest of me, Dominic?” What about all the other broken pieces that were now a part of my being? All the scars there were visible to the naked eye, and the ones that weren’t? What would become of me if I ever got out of here? Would I ever be able to un-see the horrors I’ve seen? Would I ever be the same person again?

“That'll heal too,” he said in steady voice. “In time, everything does. You either find a way to let it go or you learn to live with it.”

I lowered my eyes to the ground and nodded, somehow accepting his words as gospel.

“Come now, angel. Take off your dress and get in the tub.” His whispered command sent a warm sliver of heat down my back. It was a familiar feeling, but somehow, it felt completely new and foreign coming from him.

I turned my cheek to the side and looked back at him over my shoulder, eager and willing to comply with his demands. “Would you mind unzipping me?”

He blinked lazily as his hands came up over my waist and then along my back, tracing the zippered tracks as though he'd never seen such a contraption before. Ha. I bet he'd unzipped more than his fair share of dresses in his time. After getting a good lay of the land, he carefully pulled down the zipper with one hand, slow and even, as he ran his other hand along my bare flesh. I winced again.

“You know I can make that go away,” he offered in a soothing whisper. “It wouldn’t take much.”

“I know.”

“You might even enjoy it.”

“I know,” I said without thinking twice of it. And that was precisely what I was afraid of.

My dress flopped open, exposing my entire back and then some. I cupped the front of my dress and held it firmly against my chest to stop it from slipping off and exposing me completely.

“Thank you,” I said and then turned to face him. Strangely though, I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. The moment was too intimate. Too revealing.

He picked up my chin and pulled my face up. His eyes stared back at me with troubling intensity. Something was brewing deep inside those smoldering, dark eyes. Something like heat, or yearning.

Maybe even something more.

I suddenly had the urge to say something to him. To thank him, or forgive him, or…I wasn’t sure anymore. I wasn’t sure of anything. “Dominic, I—”

“Tell me when,” he said softly and then turned around to give me some privacy.

Nodding, I released the breath of air I’d been holding in and then walked over to the tub, still clutching the front of my dress. With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't peeking, I let it fall to the ground and stepped into the tub. The warm water and thick white foam immediately closed in around me, stinging my open wounds while warming my cold body at the same time.

“You can turn now,” I said once I was settled in and positive that none of my parts were peeking out.

He turned around and then smirked as he took in the sights. Apparently, he liked what he was seeing.

My cheeks picked up heat in response. “Stop staring at me.”

Another chuckle serenaded my ears. “Believe me, angel, I'm trying,” he said as he walked up to me and took a seat on the stool beside the tub. He picked up a sponge from the caddy and dunked it into the water. “Turn around.”

“Uh, that's alright,” I said, shaking my head at his horrible idea. “I can wash my—”

“Turn,” he ordered.

I should have resisted a little harder; put up some kind of fight, but I didn’t. I swiveled around on my butt and gave him full access to my back. Pulling my knees up to my chest, an uneasy feeling clawed its way into my belly as I realized how comfortable I’d gotten around him.

He squeezed the sponge, letting the excess water dribble down my weathered back. I tried not to flinch, to keep myself perfectly still, but the pain was too sharp to ignore. Damon and his nail-studded bat had done a number on me.

Careful not to hurt me, Dominic picked up my hair in his hand and brought it over to one side, letting it fall in loose waves over my shoulder. He wasn't speaking or moving now so I could only assume he was staring at the welts on my back.

“Let me heal you, angel,” he pleaded. His words were drenched in emotions I'd never heard from him before. And by heal me, he meant drink from him.

“I don’t want that,” I said in a small voice.

“You know I could just compel you to if I wanted to.”

I spun back around and gaped at him, my heart galloping in my chest. “You're lying.”

“I don't lie, angel.”

“You can't compel me,” I said boldly, though I needed him to confirm it for me. To tell me he was lying.

Right now, I needed that more than air.

“I most certainly can.”

My skin prickled with goosebumps as a chill licked its way up my back. “Are you saying we're bonded already?”

“Yes, angel. That is precisely what I'm saying.” He tipped his head to the side, contemplating it. “It's not as strong as it could be though, but the link is certainly there.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it.”

“Really?” I felt myself swaying towards him, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What does it feel like?” I asked him, intrigued.