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Please Don’t Stab Me

Hypothetical Question: If you could have a personal theme song that played every time you entered a room, but it had to be horribly inappropriate for every situation, what song would you pick?

Carina

Michael’s encounter has unsettled me. Not just because of what he said or how he grabbed me, but because I didn’t end him. Nate did. And now, lying in his arms, that fact gnaws at me.

I should feel relieved. Safe. But instead, there’s this feeling in my chest—a dull, insistent ache like something is slipping out of my control.

I’ve fought so hard to become this version of myself. The untouchable woman. Who doesn’t break. Who doesn’t need saving. But now, I feel small again for the first time in years.

There’s this unsettling feeling deep in my gut, a quiet warning that something—something big—is about to go terribly wrong.

“Morning,” Nate murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, pulling me from my thoughts.

I blink open my eyes, the morning light blinding me for a moment before I turn to face him. He’s so impossibly beautiful. Sometimes, I can’t believe he’s mine. That this man would do anything for me. Even kill for me.

“Morning,” I whisper, tilting my face toward him. His lips meet mine without hesitation, soft at first, then deeper, pulling me in.

It’s grounding. His warmth, his touch, the way he knows exactly what I need before I even say it.

Nate flips me over, and I let out a startled gasp as my sleep shorts disappear. His hands slide over my skin, gripping, claiming. He’s rough but not careless. As he thrusts into me, I moan, my body arching into him, seeking the comfort only he can give.

His pace is punishing as he fucks me. He grabs my hair, lifting my head up towards him and my hips slam back against him as wanton noises escape my throat.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

My release crashes into me, pleasure and something deeper, heavier, more dangerous coiling in my chest. He doesn’t let up his pace and just as soon as my first climax ends my second one builds. He reaches under me to stroke my clit, and I explode.

Nate’s movements stutter and he groans as he finds his own release.

He collapses beside me, his strong arms pulling me close, wrapping me in his warmth. His body moulds around mine, protective and comforting, as if shielding me from the world. His fingers brush lazily over my arm, and I close my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat ground me.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I nestle deeper into his embrace.

His grip tightens. “I love you.”

The words send a bolt of panic through me. I go completely still.

The room suddenly feels too small. The sheets are too warm. My breath is too loud in my ears. His arms tighten around me, holding me steady in a moment I feel like I might shatter.

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to say it.

He senses it, of course. His arms don’t loosen, but his voice stays calm. “You don’t have to say anything back,” he whispers. “I just wanted you to know.”

I can’t breathe, can’t think. And I can’t force the words back, can’t summon the courage to repeat them. I swallow hard, forcing air into my lungs. This man just killed for me, and yet it’s this moment that terrifies me.

“I don’t know what love is,” I manage to choke out, my voice barely a whisper.

Nate’s lips press against the top of my head. Not disappointed. Not demanding. Just there. “It’s okay, Princess,” he murmurs, his tone as tender as the embrace that holds me together.

I turn slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and the question tumbles out before I can stop it. “Tell me what it feels like.” The desperation in my voice surprises me, but I need to know. I need to understand.

I expect him to hesitate. To struggle for an answer.

But he doesn’t.

“It feels like this,” he says, his fingers tracing slow circles against my skin. “Like waking up and knowing you’re safe. Like wanting to give someone everything, even if they don’t know how to take it yet.”

He takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as if searching for the right words. “Love is… chaos and calm at the same time. It’s the way your heart races when you see someone, but also how it slows when they’re close, like they’re the only thing keeping you grounded.”

His voice softens as he looks down at me. “It’s knowing you’d walk through hell just to see them smile. That their happiness means more than your own, but somehow, their happiness is your own. It’s wanting to protect them from everything, even when you know they can protect themselves.”

He shifts, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “It’s not perfect. It’s messy and terrifying because it means giving someone the power to hurt you. Like handing them a knife and saying, ‘here, please don’t stab me.’ But you do it anyway because not having them is even worse.”

I swallow hard, my chest tight as his words settle over me. His hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb grazing over my skin. “And for me, love is you, Carina. It’s every breath you take, every time you look at me like I’m more than I think I am. It’s knowing that even if you don’t say it back, I’d still mean it, because you’re worth every risk.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t look away. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything at all. Instead, I lean forward and press my lips to his, pouring everything I can’t express into that kiss, hoping he understands.