He found her when she was traumatized, wounded, shaking, and took care of her, made her feel safe, comforted her, held her close. He listened to her pain, fear, breaking, and cupped her face in his strong hands, looked deeply into her eyes and told her she was safe, that she would be okay again, that he would protect her and care for her. He stroked her hair slowly and gently and held her tightly against him, cradling her, holding her together. She didn’t want to leave his side and he had her stay in his small apartment with him. He felt a longing inside him awaken and simmering inside, but he didn’t want to violate her after what had already happened, he knew what he could do to her but he didn’t want to injure her in her fragility. His tenderness and compassion toward her, wanting to nurture and protect her, allowed him to hold her in his arms, soothe her, without letting his passion to possess and consume her take over in those first few weeks.
But one night he came out of the shower and found her on the couch curled up softly crying. He came over to her and stroked her back and turned her have to look into her eyes. He assumed it was the trauma, although she had been becoming more and more back to her old self, and her mood had been slowly improving, she talked and laughed a lot more, but he thought she was overcome again. “Nadia, what’s going on honey?” He asked her, searching her large green eyes with his dark penetrating ones. “Are you remembering what happened again?”
“N-no, that’s not it,” she answered in a soft, hesitant voice, her eyes looked shy and unsure, and she quickly looked down.
“What is it, Nadia? Talk to me,” he insisted.
“I-I…” She trailed off.
“What? What is it? Tell me,” he spoke gently but insistently.
He was confused. “Feelings, what kind of feelings?”
She looked anxious, agitated. She looked around the room as if she wanted to escape. He took her head in his hands and held it still, forcing her to look at him. “What kind of feelings?” He repeated.
“I want…I want you to..do things…I want…to be…but I don’t…i don’t know if you want me…” Her face was flushed and her breathing anxious, and quick.
He was stunned for a moment and the words were slow in coming. He realized then. He realized what she wanted. A line had been crossed. Desire burned in him.
In a swift move he pushed her back against the couch, pinning her, his hands in her hair, he kissed her on the mouth hard, devouringly…he kissed and licked the tears on her cheeks, her eyes…she whimpered in his arms as if she was breaking inside, he continued to assault her senses…
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