Chapter 14

9.3K 238 10
                                    

I traced my hand up and down her naked back as we laid on the floor, our legs intertwined, and her head resting on my chest. Her breath hitched occasionally as she still sobbed quietly. 

The hours seemed to all melt together. Before I knew it the moonlight was shining brightly through the window. 

I peeked down at Brooklyn’s face. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at nothing in particular. 

“Hey?” I said, making her look at me. “Wanna go for a run?” She seemed to debate it for a few moments until she nodded her head.

We both stood up, stretching. I averted my eyes from Brooklyn as I tried my hardest to control myself. “Please for the love of god; put something on before I fucking attack you!” I growled loudly. 

A hint of a smirk touched her lips. She walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She quickly pulled them on, also slipping a pair of flip flops onto her feet.

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, as we walked down the stairs and out of the house. “Is there a park or something around here?” I asked. 

“There’s a forest right around there.” she pointed. 

We headed in that direction, walking at a leisurely pace. 

Though I only wanted to think about how beautiful Brooklyn looked when the moonlight shined on her face and illuminated her eyes, the only thing my brain could process was the engraving on her skin and the small amount of information that she had told me. I desperately wanted more. I needed to know what had happened to her. 

“I know that you want to know more.” Brooklyn said, breaking the silence. 

“I do, but I don’t want to push you. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

She sighed, “No, no… I want to talk about it. It’s j-just really hard. Just… give me some time.” 

“Of course.” 

We rounded a corner just as she revealed more information to me. 

“His name is Sebastian Whitley. He was… my everything.” She squeezed my hand. 

“Brooklyn, you don’t have t…” 

“Sshh… I want to talk about it.” She took a deep breath. “We met when I was 15; I was still in high school. He was 27.” 

“Seriously? He was a rapist?” 

“Zack please…” 

“Sorry.” I zipped my lips. 

She continued, “I dropped out when I was 16, for him. We ran away together. He took me to his estate in Massachusetts. He bought me three brand new cars, shoes, and clothes… friends.” We rounded another corner. “On my 17th birthday he asked me to marry him. I didn’t hesitate to say yes. And after that… he was never the same.” I looked at her face. Her eyes were more green than blue, something I had never seen before. 

Mates with a DomWhere stories live. Discover now