Dancing with the Devil by James Marie

Author:James, Marie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: MC Romance
Publisher: self
Published: 2019-05-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

TJ

I grin to myself when I have to pull out the key to unlock her door. At least she’s locking it now. I’ve been watching her apartment almost every single day, waiting, hoping, and praying she’d make this call. I’ve grown discouraged over time, but it hasn’t stopped me from parking my bike down the road and begging the devil to make tonight the night she actually reaches out.

She doesn’t say a word as I enter, relock the door, and strip out of my jacket and cut. They fall to the floor, and I don’t give a shit for even a split second about the disrespect I’m showing my club when I leave them where they land and cross the room.

“I—”

I press my fingers to her lips. “Shh.”

Her story gutted me, much like, I’m sure, my story did her. She pushed me away, not sure what to do with all the information I threw down in her lap, but I know what I needed in that moment and didn’t get from her. I was only bitter about it for a few days before I realized that what I needed wasn’t something she could give to me at the time.

“I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Her eyes slam shut, but it doesn’t hold the tears that continue to streak down her face. I pull her head against my chest and wrap my arms around her shoulders. She doesn’t fight me, but she’s not settling into my comfort either.

“I’m sorry they stole things from you.”

Her shoulders heave with her sobs, and her hot tears soak through my shirt.

“I’m sorry they took your power and your ability to say no.”

She pushes against my chest, and I allow it. Asserting dominance after what she’s confessed tonight just isn’t in me. She doesn’t go far, only pulls her head back so she can look up at me. Fuck me for loving the red rimming her eyes and the now silent tears as they cascade down her flushed cheeks.

“When was the last time someone pleasured you without pain?” She has to know I’m including our time together. My fingers have itched to smack her tits again. My teeth have ached with the need to bite her perfect fucking skin, but none of that is what either of us need right now.

“Never,” she whispers.

She attempts to hang her head, but I refuse to let her be ashamed of that. She’s not responsible for what those pieces of shit made her do, but she has to know she doesn’t have to be that person. Regaining control and power doesn’t have to be about accepting the abuse she puts her body through. She can be powerful and safe at the same time. She also has the right to like every form of sexual pleasure regardless if others deem it deviant.

“Let me,” I lick at her lips. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Turn off the lights,” she urges as I reach for the hem of her shirt.

“I want you to watch me.

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