I hadn't let anyone touch my scars like this. In my head and my heart, I knew that she'd never freak out or anything like that, but that dark fear that'd been a part of me from the moment I woke up kept telling me that Nori was going to reject me. That the feel of the scar tissue would turn her off, would break whatever this spell was between us and send us hurtling back to reality. That she would tell me this was a mistake.
Except she didn't do any of that. What she did do was lean forward and kiss the place where my tattoo once was.
I felt like I was burning again, but this time, it wasn't pain but pleasure I was feeling. Not physically, since I couldn't feel much where the scar tissue was concerned, but rather the rush that came with knowing that she hadn't pushed me away.
I still had a chance.
Taking it slow would be the smartest thing to do. Lay here with her in my arms, let myself appreciate what it felt like to have someone trust me so implicitly. But then her hand was sliding up my chest to my neck, all along the left side of my body. The side I never thought anyone would touch again. Not without revulsion.
She wasn't repulsed though. Her expression held so much tenderness that it made my heart ache.
This was why I loved her. I couldn't just use the word care anymore. It wasn't enough. What I felt for Nori went beyond anything I'd felt for anyone ever. I would do whatever it took to be whatever, whoever, she needed. My own happiness, my own life even, didn't matter. She was it.
So I kissed her.
It started gently as I held myself back. I didn't want to push too hard or too fast, didn't want to risk scaring her away, but then she was kissing me back, her hand on my neck as she parted her lips. A groan escaped as my tongue touched hers, and I put my hand on her waist, desperate to feel the skin beneath the robe. I kept myself in check though, focusing on enjoying her lips moving with mine, on the wet heat as I explored her mouth.
This was about what she needed, not me.
I moved away from her mouth and kissed up her jaw to her ear. “You can touch me, if you want,” I whispered.
Her body stiffened, and when she turned her head toward me, her eyes were wide, myriad emotions flickering across her teal-colored irises. I waited, letting her process. I knew she'd had so much to think about, and I wanted to take her away from that, even if only for tonight, but it had to be her choice.
Her gaze dropped, and she began to run her fingers along my scars. Starting with the collarbone and working her way across my shoulder, my arm, then over to my chest.
“What was the rest of the tattoo?” she asked softly. “The one that ended over your heart.”
“ARH and MAH,” I answered. The pain was still there, but not as agonizing as it had been. Nori's presence helped ease it. “Abigail Renee Hammond and Madison Alexandria Hammond.”
“Your mom and your sister?” she guessed.
I nodded and then sucked in a breath as she leaned forward and kissed the spot. But she didn't stop there. She began to kiss and lick her way across every inch of scar tissue she could reach, missing only the parts where the skin was still tender.
When her hand reached for the towel, however, I reached down and grabbed her wrist. She raised her head, desire evident in her eyes, on her face. She hid nothing from me, and that meant more than even her touch.
“I'm going to take care of you,” I promised as I raised her hand and kissed her palm. She shivered, and something deep and primal inside me reared its head.
“I want to touch you,” she said, her voice breathless.
“Later,” I promised. And I meant it. Outside this apartment, I still had all of my issues about people seeing me, but for her, I would give everything, even if it was more than I thought I could. I would do whatever it took to earn her trust, to make this work.
“Then will you touch me?”
I swore softly. Apparently, taking it slow wasn't going to be on the menu for the day. I let go of her wrist. “Hands off the towel.”
She nodded obediently.
I reached down between us for the belt of her robe but kept my eyes on hers as I tugged it free. Only when I raised my hand to touch her did I look down. I took my time, fingers barely grazing her skin as I parted the folds of her robe. First, I bared the valley between her breasts and teased my way down to her stomach. When I uncovered her breasts, I couldn't stop myself from tasting. I'd intended only to touch, but her dusky pink nipples started to harden, and I had to take one into my mouth.
She cried out the moment my lips touched her, and I wanted to hear more. I wanted to hear her call my name, beg for me to stop, beg for more. I wanted to hear her moan and scream and make all of those wonderful noises that meant I was pleasing her. Because that's what I wanted, what I needed. The control part of being a Dom was some of it, but I also needed to know that I could make the woman I loved forget everything but the way her body responded to my touch.