Chapter 18

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A soft breeze is coming into the room through the open window. Who opened it?

Arms are circling my waist. Tightly. I look down on myself and see Valentins arms around me. Both of them. Realization hits me and I feel like I'm floating. My bare back is pressed against his bare chest. He's holding me so close and so tight, I'd say he's scared to let me go, if I wouldn't know that he's sleeping. I need to get out of his grip because I need to pee but I don't want to wake him up. I don't want to get out of his grip and leave his side. This is my place and I don't want to leave it. I belong between his big, warm arms. I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back. I have to smile. We slept like this. With his heart beating against my back and my belly between his arms. Waking up like this is unusual for me. It's new to me. Especially since we're so close. It almost feels like we're a couple. I know we're not but being so close to him is nice. Having him hug me in our sleep makes me feel safe. Waking up with our legs tangled and our scent mixed together is irreplaceable to me. We melted into one. I can't even remember how we fell asleep and how we managed to sleep so long since it's already noon but I'm glad about it. Especially since I was so scared he'd turn back into being an asshole after it. I thought he'd regret it or that it wouldn't mean so much to him but his body language tells me differently.

And I remember everything.

Every second, every kiss, every moan and every touch. All the times he looked into my eyes when he filled me and fucked me like it's all he ever wanted. It's all still there. On my skin and in my memory.

I smile to myself and look down once again. My fingertips slide over the skin on his arm. I slide along the edge of a pigment spot he has on his arm. It's very light but visible and it looks like a burn scar. Does he have scars everywhere? I've seen his body and I noticed some on his legs too but I couldn't ask him about them in that moment. His body is telling stories. He was hurting.

Do I really belong to this man now? Does he belong to me?

I just had my first time. With Valentin DeMartini. A man who's obviously older than me, who I still don't know much about. A man who wouldn't hesitate to kill or get whatever he wants. Who doesn't spit, even if his mouth is filled with blood. I always thought it would happen with someone from my circle. A simple teenage boy. I thought I'd regret it and it would be a mistake because it didn't happen with first love but it didn't come like that. The opposite happened. It happened with a man I've only known for a while but am deeply in love with. He's not simple or a mistake. He's everything.

I inch away, only a bit, hoping I can move out of his arms because now I really need to pee urgently. Otherwise I would never leave this spot. I'd stay here until he'd wake up and force me to get away from him.

I gently grab his wrists and try to get them off me but I freeze when his grip tightens and he whispers "Don't..." into my ear. He is awake. Fully awake. He still has a morning voice which brings back a soft throbbing to my clit but he doesn't sound tired. This grip is real. I thought he did it in his sleep, unknowing but he was and is aware of what he is doing. He also witnessed the way I slid my fingers over his skin. I blush and butterflies swarm in my belly. My smile spreads all over my face. I'm not embarrassed at all. I like that he felt it.

"I need to-..." I start and I'm sure he can literally hear my smile but he cuts me off. "No." He buries his face in my neck. Every hair on my body stands on end. His warm breath hits the skin on my neck and tickles me. I giggle and his grip tightens only a little more. I lean into him, melting. Suddenly I don't need to pee anymore. I could lay here for the rest of my life, if I wouldn't need to eat or drink or walk.

He plants a soft kiss on my neck and I feel like I'm in a parallel universe. Is this the man who shot someone last night? It can't be. But it is.

"Are you okay?" He asks, like he did last night, to check on me. I find that sweet. It makes my body go warm and feel safe with him. It shows me that he cares about my feelings and how he treated my body. "I am." I whisper, getting lost between his arms. "Did I hurt you?" He asks, suddenly quieter. As if there's something in his mind that's bothering him. As if he's guilty. I halt for a moment and then move. I turn around to face him, still in his arms. I want to see him and if the worry in his voice already reached his eyes. And when I finally face him with my chest pressing against his, I see that it did. He's frowning as if he's angry but I know it's concern. It's worry.

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