“How do you mean?”
“Your father saved you. This was his legacy. Even when his life was threatened, he didn’t tell Stephen about the secret place within the maze. He didn’t give up his children. He was your father right until the end. It was his job to protect you. And he did.”
“He was the best father.” His tears welled and fell down his face.
“He really was.”
“I’ve never told anyone this.” He pressed his hand to his heart as though trying to hold that beating muscle together himself, trying to prevent it from breaking apart irrevocably.
“I want to know,” I soothed. “So we can be here for each other.”
He swiped away a tear. “I broke my favorite guitar.”
“I’ll get you another. Or maybe I’ll punish you by buying drums instead.”
“You’d be punishing yourself.”
“True.”
“I’m sorry for everything.”
“I’m offering a lifetime of forgiveness.” I swiped a stray tear off his face. “If you’re willing to forgive me, too. For being that man’s . . . daughter.”
“You can’t choose your parents.”
Tell him, tell him now . . . That I wasn’t from that monster.
“You’re nothing like him.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
He was in no state for me to bring all of that up now. Maybe he’d come to forgive me for waiting so long to share this. He wasn’t ready to hear it now. And anyway, I didn’t want Stephen to take up one more second or thought of our time. He’d already drawn enough oxygen from the room.
“What do you want?” I lulled him. “What can I get you to make you feel better?”
“Just you.”
“I want to take away your pain.”
“What do you need?”
“You know what I need, Cassius. Something tells me you need it, too.”
He gave a nod of understanding.
“Fuck me,” I coaxed him.
He scrunched a lock of my hair behind my nape. “Anya.”
“Use me. Kiss me. Give it to me. Let me help you feel better. Let me heal you.”
“What if I hurt you?”
“Hurt me. Take it all. All of me.”
He looked at me warily.
And then his mouth crashed against mine.
Anya
Cassius carried me out of the music room in his arms. There came a flood of relief that we’d both made it out of there in one piece emotionally. I’d glimpsed him at his worst, yet, somehow, I’d found the strength to soothe him. To bring him down from the heights of fury. Because I’d glimpsed his pain in all its raw cruelty. Coming back from all he’d experienced was nearly impossible. Yet every journey had a first step, a beginning, and we would just have to find ours.
He’d shared with me his most shameful secret. And I knew, knew with all my heart it had been the catalyst for all that had followed in his life. What had motivated him to harm my family. That the fallout of what Stephen had done had almost verged on irreparable damage—almost.
With me snuggling up against his chest as he carried me, nestling my face into his nape, I breathed him in. He carried me all the way to the room he’d first put me in when I’d arrived in this vast home.
I gave him a quizzical glance as he laid me on the bed. “Why are we in here?” I asked with a jolt of uncertainty.
He gave a nod as though all this was already thought out. “Trust me.”
“I do, but . . .”
“Be right back.” He stepped away and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Give me a second.”
Sitting up, curious why he’d left me here, I considered climbing off the bed and leaving this room. Unable to shake the discomfort of lying here with all the stark memories that slithered and sloped in the corners.
The space where that broken mirror had hung on the wall, a terrible reminder of what I’d done to it when I’d first arrived.
I didn’t like this room at all—in fact, I’d gotten chills each time I’d passed by it.
Cassius flew back in with a smile on his face. He held up a foil packet. Of course, a condom. He threw it onto the side table.
He closed the space between us and pressed a fingertip to my lips. “I’m starting in reverse. All the places I hurt you in this house, I’m going to make you feel good. So all you remember are the good times.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Go with me on this, okay, like I did with you in the maze.”
“What happens now?” I asked wistfully.
His brow furrowed as his thoughts spun around his beautiful mind. He grabbed the back of my head with an iron grip. “I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you.”
“But I thought—”
“Don’t say it. Let me make it up to you. Ask your forgiveness the only way I can.” He gave a ghost of a smile.
His palm brushed over my throat and glided toward my left breast, and my nipple beaded beneath the contact of the pinch of his hand, causing arousal in my core. His hand moving downward still, sweeping over my abdomen, exploring.
I lifted my T-shirt and eased out of my jeans with his help, both of us scrambling to undress.
Shirts flew.
His pants and my bra came off next.
Reaching low, I eased my panties off my hips and nudged them down my thighs, and he helped with them the rest of the way until my underwear was off.
He stole a glance. Dragging his teeth along his bottom lip, he studied me there. My sex throbbed in anticipation of his touch. I let my thighs fall apart, inviting his teasing.
With us both naked, he lay on top of me with his warm body heating my skin.
His fingers trailed downward, and the sensation made my thighs tremble, my mind scrambling to grasp how we’d gone from arguing to this—me aroused and surrendering with each inhale, thighs spreading in invitation.
Cassius seemed to sense my responses before they happened, the way he commanded my body with each touch, the way he set me alight. The more his fingers explored, the more my body reacted to having him caress me the way he did. He knew how to touch me, with equal parts firm and gentle strokes. I imagined he also knew how to find the exact spot that would bring the most pleasure.
His lips trailed along my collarbone and tickled my skin as he buried his face in my neck and nuzzled, kissing me tenderly there, sending shivers.
I brought my hand up to cup my breast, the tingles too much to bear. His hands pressed over mine. I slipped my hand away and let his rest there, flushed with the pang of pressure as it beaded beneath his palm. He circled a pointed fingertip and it sent shudders of arousal sharp and vivid into my core.
“You like this?” he teased.
I nodded. I loved it, every second, every touch, every caress, being leisurely stroked and nurtured as though this was my first time. Only my first time was in the maze when I’d done something similar to him. And he’d let me. Now, I was seeing how a real man makes love, with the skill of an artist who knows how to carve marble. How to trace the natural curves and rivulets, brushing this way and that, chipping away all resistance.
My skin the form he’d mastered as he teased and flirted with his fingers, seducing and lulling, sparking the brightest passion.