Dead Set - Book 2 of a Zombie Reverse Harem

Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

AGNES LEFAY

Something was different with Blake. It was a good different, but different nonetheless. What we had just done in that shower went way beyond sex. Way beyond love making. We'd connected in a way that we never had before. In a way that I'd never connected with anyone before finding my guys. I'd connected with the guys in their own different ways. Connor with his playfulness and Jay with his need to care for me and my need to be cared for. Blake's connection was different, it had been born through pain and anguish. The type of connection that was bred from years of mistreatment and loneliness and forged between kindred spirits. Although his past abuse was on a different level to mine, we had both suffered throughout our lives and that level of torture never left you. It shaped and molded you every year that passes. Twisting everything that you were, into something completely unrecognizable to everyone else except someone who knew. And he knew.

I felt his reticence when he finally let go and let himself be him with me for the first time. He was scared it was too much and I would run to the hills, terrified of the monster he truly was. Just as everyone else had in his life. He couldn't be more wrong. Pain breeds pain.

People see my difficult upbringing and instantly want to wrap me up in cotton wool -well, until they realize how fucked up I really am and then I was just a lost cause- But cotton wool was not what I wanted.

All those years of that type of hurt builds up inside of you, so it's not the outside world that you need protecting from, but from your own twisted and damaged self. No one can hurt you more than yourself and without an outlet, all that pain and helplessness bounces around inside you, battering your soul until it is nothing but a bruised pip deep in your belly. Leaving nothing behind but anger to fill up that empty space until your skin feels too tight contain it all. And that's what Blake and I had just done. For the first time in our lives we had someone with the same need to find release and when we both finally let go of everything inside of us, the pain that escaped was exactly what the other person needed.

He'd tried to be gentle. He'd tried to hold back. But once he had given me that small taste of pain there was no going back. I'd seen the glee in his multicolored eyes when he'd inflicted it, the pleasure and lightness he felt when I didn't protest. There was no way I could deny him the first thing that gave him peace in God knows how long and that's even if I had wanted to -which I didn't- Seeing him let go, urged me to do the same. There would be no judgement or worry with him. He wouldn't stop and worry what was wrong with me. No, he would take everything I gave to him and more without complaint. When my teeth grazed over one of his fresh bite marks, he'd shuddered in both pain and pleasure which did amazing things within me. But when I bit down hard, actually breaking the skin, I felt a euphoric release that had pushed my amazing morning yesterday with Connor down to number two. -I wasn't actually rating them, I'm just trying to give a gage as to how amazing it actually was-.

I felt lighter than I ever had as my legs struggled with stability, and that usual crawling under my skin had finally eased for the first time in forever. I could breath easily. I would definitely be interested in exploring this pleasure/pain thing in more detail. Very interested.

After our love making, Blake had been more attentive than I had ever seen him. I wasn't sure if it was because he thought I may freak out after the roughness of the act or because he finally felt as unrestrained as I did. After the water had run called, he'd dried me from head to toe, taking care to make sure that not a drop was left on me.

Clara had left me a stack of clothes beside the sink. A pair of worn blue jeans, a black ribbed vest, and a red and blue checked shirt. I was definitely digging the farming vibe. The worn cloth feeling soft under my fingers from years of washing and wear.