Looking Glass
folder
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
2,315
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
2,315
Reviews:
10
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Deirdre could see it snowing out the window. Most little girls her age would have longed to get out of school early to play in it. Deirdre longed to be someplace far away, farther away with her mom. Someplace warm, her mom said, where he could never find them. Where he couldn’t... Someplace safe.
She laid on her belly while she watched TV in the cheap little hotel room. It was ugly, with faded carpet and a torn comforter, and the bathroom was pretty gross. Still, it seemed like heaven to her. They had spent Christmas in a hotel that was worse, and it had been wonderful. Her mom had given her a paint-by-number kit of a horse that she had seen in a dime store. Deirdre thought her mom liked the cookbook she had given her. Maybe, when they got to someplace warm, they would stop sleeping in hotels and have a house, where her mom could cook again. Maybe they could bake a cake together. That would be nice.
And then, suddenly, he was there, screaming at her mom. What the fuck did she think she was doing? How dare she leave? She wasn’t going to get away with it, by God. He hit her. And then he hit her again. And again and again and again, until her mom stopped screaming, stopped begging him to stop, to leave them alone. He tossed her like a rag doll to the floor. And then he reached for Deirdre.
“Deirdre! Fuck, Deirdre, wake up!” Noah shook her gently, and she suddenly reared up, ready to bolt, her eyes wild with terror. Her mouth was still open from her screams. Christ, he’d never heard anyone scream like that. She looked at him, petrified and confused. She didn’t recognize him, he realized.
“Shh. It’s just me, Noah. You’re all right now. It was just a nightmare.” One eye was in shadow, but hope dawned in the other at that last statement, so he repeated it. “Just a nightmare. It’s over now.”
The nightmare may have been over, but he could see that the fear lingered. She trembled uncontrollably, shaking like a leaf. She was awake now, but her eye was still wide with the echo of horror. Even in the dark, he could see it. Carefully, he put his arms around her, pulled her close to him, offering his warmth. Her skin was clammy and cold. Still she shook. He held her tighter, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm and to comfort—himself as much as her, because her screams still sounded in his head.
“He—he... Don’t let him get me,” she whispered brokenly.
“Never,” Noah vowed. And then, though he didn’t know how, his lips were on hers, soothing. “Shhh, shhhh,” he crooned between kisses.
His lips were soft and warm, she realized. They were so gentle, and she could feel the terror melting away. She could feel herself melting into him, so grateful he was gentle. Her mouth opened on a sigh, and his tongue slipped inside, slowly to avoid frightening her. He was just comforting her, he assured himself. Her hands slid into his hair, holding him to her, and he bit back a groan. His own stopped their tour of her arms and slid over her shoulders, down her back. They roamed there, feeling her skin slowly warm through the cotton of the loose t-shirt she was wearing. His mouth moved to her jaw, planting a line of soft kisses along that lovely line before dropping to her collarbone. She had such delicate bones.
His fingers cruised along her side now, bringing goosebumps to her flesh with his almost-touch. When he reached to side of her breast, she caught her breath in a gasp. She wasn’t afraid now, and victory rushed through him. He traced the underside of that wonderful curve, slowly inching up with every arc. She pulled his head to hers again for another kiss. He lingered a long moment, reveling in the taste of her, in her acceptance and eagerness, before finally, finally touching her nipple. It was already puckered, pushing insistently into his palm, begging for his touch.
He did one better. He dragged his mouth from hers and stopped, hovering just above her breast, letting his breath tickle her. She bit her lip in anticipation, but he just looked at her.
“Please,” she whispered.
And then, so softly she could have wept, he touched her, just the tip of his tongue meeting the tip of her breast in a kiss of reverence. Even through her shirt, she could feel the warmth and wet of him, and unconsciously arched her back, thrusting her chest toward him. He answered her call, taking her inside his mouth, adoring her with his teeth and tongue and lips.
With one last pull, he left her nipple, and kissed her again. He was still gentle, but more insistent now, demanding a response from her. Hesitantly, she dipped her tongue in his mouth, and he groaned his approval. His hands were on either side of her face, holding her captive to his tender onslaught. His thumb slid along her cheekbone. This time when she gasped, it wasn’t in pleasure.
Confused and concerned, Noah pulled away to look at her. Half her face was still in shadow. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t see what. He reached over her and flipped on her bedside lamp. She turned her head away from him, hiding something from him. He hooked a finger under her chin and rolled her head to the other side.
“Who did this to you?” he asked when he saw her eye. Someone must have hit her, hard, to make such a rich bruise. Her eye was bloodshot. Rage spurted suddenly through him, and he knew that he could kill anyone who hurt her.
She closed her eyes tightly and remained silent, silently begging him to not press her on this. His mouth tightened, but he flipped off the light, kissed her brow, and settled himself behind her, one arm still wrapped reassuringly around her waist.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and slid softly into sleep.
Deirdre could see it snowing out the window. Most little girls her age would have longed to get out of school early to play in it. Deirdre longed to be someplace far away, farther away with her mom. Someplace warm, her mom said, where he could never find them. Where he couldn’t... Someplace safe.
She laid on her belly while she watched TV in the cheap little hotel room. It was ugly, with faded carpet and a torn comforter, and the bathroom was pretty gross. Still, it seemed like heaven to her. They had spent Christmas in a hotel that was worse, and it had been wonderful. Her mom had given her a paint-by-number kit of a horse that she had seen in a dime store. Deirdre thought her mom liked the cookbook she had given her. Maybe, when they got to someplace warm, they would stop sleeping in hotels and have a house, where her mom could cook again. Maybe they could bake a cake together. That would be nice.
And then, suddenly, he was there, screaming at her mom. What the fuck did she think she was doing? How dare she leave? She wasn’t going to get away with it, by God. He hit her. And then he hit her again. And again and again and again, until her mom stopped screaming, stopped begging him to stop, to leave them alone. He tossed her like a rag doll to the floor. And then he reached for Deirdre.
“Deirdre! Fuck, Deirdre, wake up!” Noah shook her gently, and she suddenly reared up, ready to bolt, her eyes wild with terror. Her mouth was still open from her screams. Christ, he’d never heard anyone scream like that. She looked at him, petrified and confused. She didn’t recognize him, he realized.
“Shh. It’s just me, Noah. You’re all right now. It was just a nightmare.” One eye was in shadow, but hope dawned in the other at that last statement, so he repeated it. “Just a nightmare. It’s over now.”
The nightmare may have been over, but he could see that the fear lingered. She trembled uncontrollably, shaking like a leaf. She was awake now, but her eye was still wide with the echo of horror. Even in the dark, he could see it. Carefully, he put his arms around her, pulled her close to him, offering his warmth. Her skin was clammy and cold. Still she shook. He held her tighter, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to warm and to comfort—himself as much as her, because her screams still sounded in his head.
“He—he... Don’t let him get me,” she whispered brokenly.
“Never,” Noah vowed. And then, though he didn’t know how, his lips were on hers, soothing. “Shhh, shhhh,” he crooned between kisses.
His lips were soft and warm, she realized. They were so gentle, and she could feel the terror melting away. She could feel herself melting into him, so grateful he was gentle. Her mouth opened on a sigh, and his tongue slipped inside, slowly to avoid frightening her. He was just comforting her, he assured himself. Her hands slid into his hair, holding him to her, and he bit back a groan. His own stopped their tour of her arms and slid over her shoulders, down her back. They roamed there, feeling her skin slowly warm through the cotton of the loose t-shirt she was wearing. His mouth moved to her jaw, planting a line of soft kisses along that lovely line before dropping to her collarbone. She had such delicate bones.
His fingers cruised along her side now, bringing goosebumps to her flesh with his almost-touch. When he reached to side of her breast, she caught her breath in a gasp. She wasn’t afraid now, and victory rushed through him. He traced the underside of that wonderful curve, slowly inching up with every arc. She pulled his head to hers again for another kiss. He lingered a long moment, reveling in the taste of her, in her acceptance and eagerness, before finally, finally touching her nipple. It was already puckered, pushing insistently into his palm, begging for his touch.
He did one better. He dragged his mouth from hers and stopped, hovering just above her breast, letting his breath tickle her. She bit her lip in anticipation, but he just looked at her.
“Please,” she whispered.
And then, so softly she could have wept, he touched her, just the tip of his tongue meeting the tip of her breast in a kiss of reverence. Even through her shirt, she could feel the warmth and wet of him, and unconsciously arched her back, thrusting her chest toward him. He answered her call, taking her inside his mouth, adoring her with his teeth and tongue and lips.
With one last pull, he left her nipple, and kissed her again. He was still gentle, but more insistent now, demanding a response from her. Hesitantly, she dipped her tongue in his mouth, and he groaned his approval. His hands were on either side of her face, holding her captive to his tender onslaught. His thumb slid along her cheekbone. This time when she gasped, it wasn’t in pleasure.
Confused and concerned, Noah pulled away to look at her. Half her face was still in shadow. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t see what. He reached over her and flipped on her bedside lamp. She turned her head away from him, hiding something from him. He hooked a finger under her chin and rolled her head to the other side.
“Who did this to you?” he asked when he saw her eye. Someone must have hit her, hard, to make such a rich bruise. Her eye was bloodshot. Rage spurted suddenly through him, and he knew that he could kill anyone who hurt her.
She closed her eyes tightly and remained silent, silently begging him to not press her on this. His mouth tightened, but he flipped off the light, kissed her brow, and settled himself behind her, one arm still wrapped reassuringly around her waist.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and slid softly into sleep.