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“Yeah, well… your shirt doesn’t match your tie. You get dressed in the dark,Boss?”
“You’re annoying.” I retort.
“And you still look like you got dressed in the dark.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sabrina.
"I fucked my bodyguard." It’s Sunday afternoon and Damon has agreed to meet me at his office before I go back to Maksim’s penthouse. I made sure to pay him handsomely, transferring money before he could say no.
I don’t do well with being told “no.”
The only notion Damon gives me that I've surprised him is a flicker in his silver gaze. He jots that down in his special littleSabrinanotebook. It should probably irk me but, well, it'spink.
The tosser has us color-coded. It took me a while to understand the different colored notebooks he keeps on his desk but then I realized Raven meant purple. He only has separate notebooks for those he keeps close. Another reason I find it slightly endearing and not as annoying as it should be.
"Penetration?" He asks so simply.
I shake my head and tell him what happened that day in Central Park.
"Sabrina-" he scratches at his brow, a gold pen between two fingers, and then he sighs, like he’s looking for the right words to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, but I don’t let him speak.
"I was having dreams while I was in Italy. Bad ones. Really bad ones. They all start the same, you know?" He doesn't know. This is the first time I'm talking about it with him. "It's dark and I can feel the sticky leather on my skin and the way the tires of the vehicle rumble under my feet until it stops. His scent. The alcohol on his breath. Then the hands. They're clammy, too. He calls me Princess. I try to shove him off, but then he's there again. Touching. Pinching. His face is between my thighs and his fingers are-" I wince, looking down at my thumbs. I'm wearing pretty lace again today. "And..."
"And," Damon says after a moment, like he understands what I mean and not pushing me to go furtherthan I'm ready to.
"And." I nod, still unable to look at him. "While we were in Italy, that's how the dreams would start. But something happened. Somewhere in those dreams... I... it...hisface turned into Maksim's." I shake my head, then turn it to look out at the stained-glass windows of his office. It's rare to see this instead of tinted windows, but it's nice. Kind of serene, like I’m at church instead of an office. Feels more like I’m sitting in confession and Damon is my priest. But it wasn't my sins that made me start going to every therapist in New York until I found Damon, was it? I concentrate on the colors of the window as I try to continue, but a bitter laugh rises instead, along with anger.
"You know, I thought I was lucky at first. I didn't exactly know what had happened, or who. I just knew it did. I had accidentally washed away the evidence, and even though I was angry, and I felt so stupid, I thought; okay. It's fine. I'll push forward. So at first, I thought I was lucky. I couldn't remember it happening, so in a way, it was like it never did. But then, over the months it all came back to me. All of it. Bit by bit, and then, I couldn't not remember it."
I wipe my eyes when I feel a tear splash on my chest, then lean over and grab a stupid tissue to blot at my perfectly made-up face. The one I had to stare at for thirty minutes so I could look the part ofSabrina Winters: Mafia Wife.For any paps that may be lurking nearby when I leave this place. Fuck them if they try to shame me for seeing a therapist.
"I think... I think Maksim touched me while I was asleep to... help get me out of those... fits. Probably so I wouldn't embarrass him if I woke the staff with my bumbling."
"Sabrina..."
I drag my eyes away from the kaleidoscope windows and look at Damon. He's a handsome bugger; I'll give Raven that. "Hmm?"
"Have you heard of the term somnophilia?"
I shake my head.
"It's... a type of fetish that develops. Being asleep while being masturbated or fondled or being woken up to a partner already... using you for sexual gratification."
Why does that make my pink parts tingle?
"Is it... a form of rape?"
"If it's consensual, no. But it's also normal. Both in victims of sexual assault and people with no prior assaults."
"I think I encouraged it. Because when it was Maksim, and not him, it feltgood. It felt real. I wanted it. I think I orgasmed. I haven't orgasmed inages, Doctor Archer. Even when I try to masturbate, I… I get taken back to that night. It feels wrong and thenhepops into my head.Maksim’s right - I’m useless. I can’t even fuck my husband. There is no pleasure in being married to me.”
Damon’s silent for a while, jotting down Sabrina things in his little Sabrina notebook. After a few more scribbles, his eyes lift to mine again. "How did you feel upon waking?"
I look away and slowly find the honest within me. "Confused. Still unsure if it was a dream or real."
"And how did you feel afterward? When you came to terms with it, assuming you have since you're talking about it now."