Outside your window (18+)

Chapter thirty three

I drop the towel to the floor and get dressed in my pajamas before slipping into bed quietly, snuggling under the sheets. The shower is still running, the sound of droplets somewhat ambient in the room. But it doesn't feel comforting like it usually would've to know that he is here with me. I don't want him here anymore. I don't want to be here with him. I don't want to be here at all. This isn't my home, no matter how much he tries convincing me otherwise. I'm so angry at him. I've lost everything. The company has probably fired me for not showing up for so long, and the stupid bills I as supposed to pay more than a month ago have probably expired. I'm probably getting evicted. God damn it. He has made me completely dependent on him. Is that what he wanted all along? For me to loose everything and be forced to stay with him. I hate him, I really do. And the fact that I've been waiting for him to come home today, actually wanting to spend time with him, makes my stomach churn.

I have never stood up to him and gotten away with it. This time is different. He's different. I don't know what he wants for me. And it's honestly exhausting trying to please someone who doesn't know what they want.

I don't realize the shower has been turned off until it's too late, and the sound of a door opening catches my attention and makes me realize that the water is no longer running. I visibly tense when he steps into the room, and I don't need to look back to know that he's staring at me. Holding my breath for a moment, I wait for another hint of what he's doing. I don't hear any more footsteps, and the next thing I know the bed dips behind me. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but I can practically feel him breathing down my neck.

A warm hand is placed over my shoulder and I shrug it away, my jaw tightening. He lets his hand drop and I resist the urge to turn around and look at his face expression. It has to be good.

"Don't be like this, Malyshka." He speaks in a stern voice, but the hint of desperation doesn't pass my ears. "Let me make it up to you..." I tense when his arms sneak around my hips to pull me to him, my muscles tightening.

"Stop it." I say, and to my surprise his hands actually move away from me. I swallow hard and move even closer to the edge, further away from him in case he changes his mind about stopping.

"At least listen to me." His voice is tense, and I can only imagine how he's frowning right now. I don't owe him anything. I really don't. But he continues without giving me much of a choice. "I can't let you go." I hold my breath, waiting patiently for the rest to come but it never does. You've got to be kidding me.

"That's it? That's what gives you the right to kidnap me?" I turn around to face him and my heart catches in my throat. He's so close to me, his face inches from mine and he's just staring up at me, his eyes hard but pleading.

"I loved my mother, Trinity." He says, his voice gentle now, and I'm surprised by the sentiment in his voice. "I never left her side. I protected her my whole childhood. Wether it was from dangerous men or the wind." His throat bobs as he works to swallow, continuing his story. "I was just going to my room to grab my toys.." My heart sinks low to my stomach and my eyes meet his like I know where this is going. An apology is at the tip of my tongue but I bite it back, keeping silent. "When I came back she was...gone. Instead my father was there with blood on his shirt and a smile. He told me that was what happened when you got too attached to someone. People took them away. He did it to teach me a lesson." My eyes widen and I wait for him to tell me that it's a joke. It can very well be a lie. But something in the way he's looking at me tells me it's the truth. And it can't have been easy for him to admit.

I have never seen that expression in Damien's eyes. Something like grief and anger mixed in one, and his hands reach out to gently cup my face despite the anger in his eyes which I know is not meant for me. I can't help the hollow feeling in my chest, feeling the need to comfort that little kid who lost his mother. How could a father be so cruel? What's even crazier are the tears filling my eyes which I try to blink away.

"I'm sorry." I mumble, my voice thick with emotion and I swallow to get rid of it, looking away.

"Don't be. That's not why I told you this story." He says and gently presses a kiss to my forehead. "I'm not saying what happened to my mother will happen to you, Malyshka. But I'd never forgive myself if it did." I frown at his words, a shiver running down my body at the thought of dying and leaving him to morn my death and wallow in guilt. No matter how much I dislike him, I wouldn't want that for him. And the thought really makes me surprised for a moment.

"I'm really sorry for what happened to you, Damien. But that doesn't justify what you did to me." I say, and a part of me hates myself for ruining the moment. But he needs to understand.

"I know, sweetheart. And I...I am sorry." He sighs and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose, his eyes tense and hopeful when they meet mine again. "I'm not trying to justify it. I just want you to understand why I can't let you go. And I want to show you that I trust you enough to be vulnerable with you. I want you to trust me, too. You can hate me all you want but don't pull away from me. I don't think I can take it." His words are raw and sincere. And I don't think I've ever heard him speak like that with me. His lips are inches away from mine and he's looking up at me, waiting for me to close the distance.

I watch the disappointment in his eyes when I pull my face away instead, making his hands drop from my face. I watch a determined look cross his face moments later and his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers and squeezing me gently.

"Tell me what you want. You want your apartment back? Done. You want me out of your social life? Done. You want to hate me and never speak to me again? Fucking done. But don't distance yourself from me. I already told you I can't take it. I'm not lying, Malyshka. I fucking can't." His eyes are pleading and he brings our interlaced fingers to his chest, pressing the back of my hand against his chest. My eyes widen and flicker up to meet his, feeling the way his heart is pounding against my hand. "Feel that? That is yours." He says lowly, his eyes staring deeply into mine.

"Are you serious-?"

"Everything I have is yours. Whatever you want, tell me and I'll get it for you. Never tell me I can't be with you because I will go fucking crazy. I need to keep you safe. I'll die before I ever let you see the inside of a casket." My hearts skipping so many beats I don't think it's good for my health. To hear him say he'd die for me is something I never expected would come from his lips. A burning feeling intensifies in my chest as well as between my legs. The one between my thighs I know the reason to, the one in my heart is new.

I'm pressing my lips against his like I'm starved, rolling on top of him when I hear a surprised groan leave his lips. His hands come around my hips and I'm pulling my top off without a second thought. All of my clothes and his towel are tossed somewhere in the bedroom and I'm lowering myself onto him, only feeling full again when he's inside.

His hips are bucking. My hips are rolling. Two minutes later we're both catching our breaths, our bodies tangled together into one mess of heat and pleasure. I was mistaken all along. All this time I've been thinking I was his prisoner. Now I know. He is mine.