It's Never Easy

Chapter 10 - Arianne/Astor

TW: mentions of grooming and physical and sexual abuse.

Arianne

"Is this your first make-out?" He murmurs against my neck. I have no idea how much time has passed. I got lost in the feel of him. I never thought I would think that again. That I could get lost in someone's touch. That I wouldn't cringe away from it but crave it instead.

"That was a very dorky question but yes." I giggled, drunk on him. "I guess it's not yours?" He pulled back to look me in the eyes, an eyebrow quirked.

"What makes you say that?" We were lying on our sides, facing each other. My arms around his neck, my fingers playing with his hair. One of his arms was trapped beneath us, his big hand splayed across my lower back. His other hand was on my thigh, which was hooked over his waist. There were so many points on my body where I was touching him. At each point of contact sparks flew, they created a current of electricity, zapping my heart and then heading much lower. It was driving me crazy with a need for pleasure I'd never felt before.

It was totally inconceivable that I was in this position. With a man. A man I'd barely known two weeks. But I felt totally safe and comfortable with him. He always gave me plenty of warning, though his words or his actions, before he did anything. He always made sure I was okay. He never crossed the line. He never went too far. He always made sure I felt good. And god did it feel good.

"You seem very...practiced." I finally answer, having spent too much time overanalysing our position.

"I'm glad you appreciate my skills my dear Arianne. But you're my first too." His thumb rubbed gentle circles on my thigh. It was driving me crazy. It made it hard to think.

"I am?"

"Why are you surprised?"

"Have you looked in a mirror?" He chuckled softly and I smiled back at him.

"Have you?" My brain seemed to glitch for a moment as I stared into his eyes, and felt the sincerity with which he looked at me. It was totally irresponsible and illogical to trust this man just because he was hot and a good kisser and I was a romantic fool that thought we had to connection. But my heart was screaming at me to take the chance and my body was screaming at me to let him touch me again. I had been touch starved for so long and now my body had had a slice of pleasure, it wanted more. I wanted more. With him. More kisses. More touches. With less clothes. "I hope one day you trust me enough to tell me what happened to you."

"I trust you enough to tell you now." My mouth blurted. I did that a lot around him, speaking without thinking. When usually I would over-think, over-analyse ever word I said to a person. With him I just said everything that was on my mind. "I mean, it's not that big of a deal." I tried to rationalise. And I wanted him to know. So that he understood me better. So that he knew he that making-out was maybe as far as I could go.

"It's a huge deal. Tell me when you're ready."

"When I was fourteen," I started, before I lost the nerve. "I met an older guy. He was twenty-five." Astor sucks in a sharp breath. I stare at his neck. Watch as his adams apple bobs in his throat. See the chords of his neck flex tightly. I look there so I don't have to look into his eyes.

"Arianne, you really don't have to tell me this."

"We started dating. Fooling around. He made me feel special." I ploughed on. "My Dad didn't like it, obviously. He could see what my naive brain couldn't. Could see how wrong it was. He banned me from seeing him. Had Dion follow me around as a bodyguard. I was stupid. I got angry at my Dad for keeping us apart. I ran away to live with him. And it, uh," I didn't really know who to best phrase the next part. I hadn't had to speak it out loud since the trial when I was sixteen. It was something I still skirted around now with my therapist. "Well, it got bad from there."

"You don't have to say any more."

"Because you can fill in the gaps?" I whispered. He nodded and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

"He manipulated you. Abused you. Hurt you so deeply it left scars." His voice is deep, rough, filled with an emotion I can't quite place. I press my forehead into his chest, breathing deep, pushing away the bad memories and focusing on the good man in front of me. A man who's just trying to understand me. Who's been nothing but patient with me. A man, I know for a fact, deep in my bones, would never hurt me. He flexes the hand on my thigh and I tilt my head to look up at him. His jaw is clenched hard, outlining its sharpness, but his face is purposefully neutral. When I finally steel myself to look into his eyes again, I force myself to blink hard. It must be a trick of the light, because it almost seems as if his eyes glow.

Astor

Rage. Pure white painful rage is all I feel as my mate tells me her story. My heart clenches painfully in my chest and then breaks into a million tiny pieces for her. It breaks me that she was hurt so much. That I wasn't there to help her, at a time when she needed me most. It's illogical, but my wolf won't see reason.

The only reason I am able to keep my wolf in line is because Arianne is here, in my arms. She's safe and whole and not in any pain. I can touch her, comfort her, and after rolling around in bed with her all morning she's covered in my scent. These are the only things stopping me from shifting and hunting down the man that hurt my mate.

We'll make him pay one day. My wolf will feel the warm satisfaction of his blood running down our throat. One day. But right now, our mate needs us.