Just One Touch (Slow Burn #5)(31)

Isaac's rage was a terrible tangible thing in the air surrounding them. His entire body was taut, his muscles rippling, as he sought to control his reaction to the retelling of her treatment at the cult's hands.

Thinking only to soothe him in some way, she tentatively placed her hand on his chest and looked at him with pleading in her eyes. Begging him silently for calm and perhaps a warning that her story would only get worse. He placed his hand over hers where it rested against his heart and he gently squeezed, not only acknowledging her silent request, but also offering her the reassurance, comfort and encouragement she so desperately needed in order to continue. 

Before she could go on, he gathered her hand carefully in his and lifted it to his mouth and pressed his lips softly over her palm. Then, cradling her hand as if it were something precious and infinitely fragile, he slid it from his lips to his jaw so that her fingers were splayed out over the stubble on his face. He left it there for a long moment, his hand covering hers as he stared intently into her eyes. There was more than just sympathy, comfort or even encouragement reflected in his dark gaze, but what exactly she couldn't interpret. The way it made her feel was something entirely unfamiliar. It was something she had never experienced before. And she liked it. Perhaps too much.

His gaze and his touch infused an intimate warmth into the very heart of her. Parts of her soul that had been cold for so very long felt as though the sun was shining on them for the first time ever. Perhaps more confusing for her wasn't just her emotional response to this man or the fact that trusting him had been so automatic, so easy. She who had never been safe in her entire life, who'd never been made to feel safe with anyone, felt as though nothing and no one could ever harm her so long as he was with her.

No, as confused as she should be by the faith she had in this warrior, her physical reaction perplexed her far more. Whenever he touched her, whenever he even looked at her in that soul-searching way he did so often, she was mystified and shamed by the fact that her breasts swelled and became tender. Her nipples tingled and tightened into hard buds, thrusting forward as if begging for his touch. More embarrassing was that her most private parts became moist and hypersensitive and she had to resist the sudden urge to touch herself . . . down there.

Sucking in a steadying breath, ashamed of the direction her thoughts had gone, she mentally shook herself and prepared to continue with all she had to tell Isaac.

As she opened her mouth to proceed with her story, Isaac moved her hand back over his mouth and once again pressed a tender kiss into her palm before lowering it to his lap, but he didn't release it, instead tangling his fingers with hers, lacing them together as they rested between them.

"A gathering was called, one that every cult member was forced to attend. They dragged me into the meeting room and then threw me on the floor in front of the entire assembly. I was again told to admit that evil lives within me and that only God decided life or death. I was ordered to renounce Satan, to renounce my gift and to beg the elders for mercy and forgiveness."

Tears of rage streamed down her cheeks as she relived the incident as if it were only yesterday. She lifted her chin so that she could look Isaac in the eye.

"They demanded that I beg the elders for mercy and forgiveness," she said bitterly. "Not God. Them. They believed themselves to be gods and here they were accusing me of being evil. Saying that Satan lived within me, when they were the ones guilty of all they accused me of.

"I defied them. I spoke out. I shouldn't have, but God, I couldn't do what they demanded. I don't know how I found the strength to stand up on my own, but I did, and I faced them down, staring them directly in the eyes. I told them they were wrong. That it was they who were evil. Not me. That God wasn't imperfect and that he created me, and it was he who gave me the gift to help others. I told them that Satan was evil and he would never, nor did he have the power to, grant someone the power to heal, to do good. They tied me to a whipping post and said that they'd drive the demons from me if it was the last thing they did."

"Jesus," Isaac muttered, reaching for her and holding her tightly. "Baby, stop. You don't have to relive this."



       
         
       
        

"But I do," she said tearfully. "You have to know everything, Isaac. So that you understand what you're dealing with and why I had to escape the hell I'd lived in for so long."

He tucked her head underneath his chin and wrapped his strong arms around her, creating a haven, a safe place where it felt like nothing could ever hurt her again.