Page 82 of The Games We Play

I roar from the pleasure of it.

When she tries to move her head, I hold her in place, moving in and out of her mouth as the embers of what we just did die out.

Sucking in air, I feel my anger dying out too.

And suddenly those tears in her eyes crack my heart wide open. Dropping to my knees, I tug her into my arms and hold her tightly as she sobs against my shoulder.

I fist her hair in my hand again, this time with reverence, and bury my face in the side of her neck. “I’m sorry, little chick.”

After a minute, I stand with her in my arms and carry her to the bathroom. Once she’s sitting on the counter, I slide the dress off her shoulders. I’m going to collect every last one of those buttons and find someone to fix her dress. Mascara trails down her face, and her shoulders rise and fall with sharp breaths, the aftermath of so many tears.

I’m too scared to kiss her.

For once, the dominant in me is lost. I can’t decide if I gave her what she needed, or if I just damaged us.

Only time will tell if it’s irreparable.

But she’s still here, letting me care for her.

For the first time in my life I feel Dom drop, and I can’t help but think it’s because this is also the first time I’ve been like this with someone I love. Someone fucking precious.

I unfasten the clasp of her bra and slip the straps off her shoulders. There’s a bruise on one of her beautiful breasts.

Fuck me. I did that.

Guilt eats me up from inside.

I pull out the waterproof sleeve I’d gotten for her if we stayed over and slide it over her brace.

I turn the water on for the shower, check the temperature, then lift her into my arms again.

Even though I’m still wearing my jeans and boots, I step into the shower and hold us both beneath the spray.

Hot water batters us as Iris lays her head on my shoulder and I hold her tight.

I try to formulate what I’m going to say next, but nothing feels right.

Instead, I just hold her.

27

IRIS

My brain won’t come back online.

He didn’t say he loved me, but he might as well have.

He thinks what we have is beautiful and blinding.

Just his idea that we’re a comet blazing through life and death.

Jesus.

I had no clue how badly I needed what just happened.

Despite shivering and hiccuping while I try to pull myself together, my head is blissfully empty of all the thoughts that had been slamming around in there earlier. Spark’s arms wrap tightly around me, one hand cupping the back of my neck, holding my forehead to his shoulder as water batters us from above.

The tears slow.