26

Delilah
It’s been two weeks since we married, and the best and only sexual experience of my life. He’s been different during that time. He’s been…sweet.
And sweet is not in his nature. That’s how I know he’s trying.
Every day for the last two weeks, he has come to the library with me, gotten everyone coffee and stayed at my side. Ethan stays far away from Carmine, and Carmine tends to give him deadly stares, but the last two weeks have been great. He’s even helped me study for the exam that I have tomorrow.
We’ve stayed up late studying, fallen asleep, and woken up with flashcards sticking to our cheeks. We’ve laughed and kissed, but the one thing I haven’t been able to do is to take the next step with him. After Carmine gave me that amazing orgasm, I felt like I couldn’t please him and turned him on myself.
Sexually, I’ve kept him distant.
But we’ve grown closer.
The laughs, the coffee, the study sessions, all because of my big exam tomorrow.
And he never missed a day. He never told me he couldn’t because of work.
He was-is-there for me.
“No! Not again, not again. Please, not again.”
Unable to sleep because I was thinking about Carmine and worried if I pass my test tomorrow, I flipped over to see what Carmine was talking about.
“Don’t. Father, not again. Not again.” The pain in his voice has me scooting closer. He still won’t talk about the scars on his body, and I still can’t touch them.
“Carmine?” I whisper, trying to wake him gently from his nightmare.
He begins to scream. It’s loud and heart-wrenching, the kind of sound that reaches into the soul and shreds it to pieces. The tendons in his neck are tight, and he is gripping the comforter for dear life. He begins to thrash, and I want to cry for him.
I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him in a nightmare. He doesn’t dream.
“Stop! I’ll be a man, just stop!” he screams, a singular tear running down his chin.
“Carmine!” I roll on top of him and shake him awake, needing him to see that his real life is with me now. He doesn’t wake up right away. “Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Wake up, my dark side, wake up,” I beg him, hoping he knows what it means.
He’s my dark side, the darkness I’ve always craved.
“Carmine!” I take his face in my hands and press my lips against his. His chest is sweating, his forehead is hot and his breathing is fast.
His eyes snap open, and I’m flipped to my back.
There’s no recognition in his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his hair is a disaster and his fist is held in the air.
“Carmine! It’s me. It’s Delilah. Your Sweetling, it’s me,” I sob, closing my eyes to prepare for the hit. “It’s me.”
I press my hands against his chest to push him away, my fingertips drifting over the puckered scars, and he finally blinks, shaking the dream from his head.
Sweat drips from the ends of his hair, and when he finally sees me, he drops his hand and jumps off the bed to get away from me.
“Why did you do that?” he yells at me, pain and regret clear in his tone. “Why did you try to wake me? Never, ever do that again. I almost fucking hit you!”
I sit up and knee-walk on the bed to the edge. “It’s okay. You weren’t in your right mind, Carmine. You had a bad dream.”
“It isn’t okay!” He roars, slapping his chest. “I never want to hurt you. Ever. Hurting you would kill me.” He grabs at his hair and rubs his hands down his face. “Fuck!” he punches a hole in the wall, and I jump. “I can’t believe I did that. I almost attacked you,” he says through broken breaths. “Stay away from me. This can’t work. It can’t. I’m not good for you. You don’t get it. You don’t understand,” he mumbles while not looking at me. “How did I ever think this could work? I’m a fucking idiot.”
“Carmine-”
“I almost hit you!” he yells at me again, taking a step forward and reaching out to me, but he drops his hands. He’s afraid to touch me now. “Do you know what I would have done to myself? I am a man of many sins. Sins that will follow me forever, but that is one I refuse to live with. I’m ashamed. Tomorrow, I’ll cancel the contract. You can go home.”
I jump off the bed and run to him, but he backs away from me, holding out his arms for me not to come closer.
“Carmine, no. No! I refuse to give up that easily. You don’t get to give up, either. You were in a nightmare. You can’t control that. Next time, I won’t wake you. I’ll go into another room, okay? We don’t give up. Not after…” I try not to let my emotion show. “Not after everything we have been through the last few weeks.”
“I’m a man who is always put together,” he says, tracing the scars on his chest and shoulders as he speaks. “I am not weak. I am not a weak man. I’ve proved myself. I’m not weak.” He sags against the wall and bends over. “I’m not weak.” He runs his hand through his hair, and I take a step forward, touching his face to bring him to the present with me.
He flinches but then leans into my touch.
“I know you’re not weak,” I say. “You’re the strongest man I know.”
“You’re a fool for staying with me. What if you’re pregnant, and I hurt you? I can’t do that. I couldn’t live…” he swallows, staring at the floor. “I couldn’t live if I hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t. I believe that. You’ve had plenty of chances to hurt me, and you haven’t. This won’t be any different.” I slide my fingers down his neck and touch a scar. “What happened? Why do you have these? Your father did this? That’s who you were yelling at in your dream.” I take his hands and drag him back to bed, wanting him to be comfortable talking to me, but I can’t get him to move.
“He cut me with a knife. Some are deeper than others. He was teaching me how to be a man. He cut me every day when I was a child, until one day I didn’t cry anymore.”
“Carmine.”
“I’m not proud of this,” he begins. “I never wanted you to see me like this. I’m not this man.”
“I wouldn’t care.”
“I fought every day. The pain was so much. Sometimes, I’d wish he would kill me. It’s been so long since I’ve had a nightmare, and I almost hurt you.” He grasps the back of my neck, and his brown eyes lock on mine, filling with tears. “I’ll never hurt you, Delilah. With my last fucking breath, I’d never put a hand on you, but I am not a good man. I’m damaged. I am unable to be put back together. Too many pieces of me have been taken. My mind is broken.”
He winces when I touch the scars on his chest, his skin still damp and sticky from sweating during his nightmare. He’s trembling, barely able to keep still, and his nostrils flare as I examine every battle scar. His fists flex, and his veins protrude as his muscles bulge.
“You are not broken,” I whisper, and kiss the scar running from one shoulder to the other. “You are not weak.” I kiss another scar, and his shoulders relax. “You are a good man.” He turns his head but doesn’t look at me. “You’re a good man to me, and that’s all that matters. I don’t care what you do to anyone else, as long as you come back to me.” I stand in front of him and kiss the scar on his chest.
His chest heaves as he stares at me, then, with his signature hand around my throat, he drags me to bed, slamming me on the mattress.
We’re naked.
I don’t know how I’ve forgotten that in the last ten minutes, but his cock is hard, curving up to his stomach to his belly button. The head is flared, a dark blush color, while he’s thick and long. He trimmed around the base, and as he curls over me, his thumb pressing against my jugular, I know I want him more than ever.
“If you knew the things I want to do to you, you would not call me a good man.”
“Then don’t be a good man right now, Carmine.” I fight against his hold on my neck and push forward until we are nose to nose. “Show me how bad you’ve been dying to be.”
He slams his lips to mine, skimming his fingers down my arms. Goosebumps rise in their wake. Carmine intertwines our hands, clutching them together as if it’s the only thing holding him to the ground.
The way he kisses me this time is different. It’s desperate like he’s searching for anything to help him make sense of his life. His tongue slides against mine, and he settles himself between my legs. His cock slips between my pussy folds.
He moans, breaking the kiss to catch a breath before melding our lips together again.
“You feel so good,” he mumbles. “Already so wet, so hot for me, Sweetling.” He lets go of one hand and grabs the meat of my thigh, digging his fingers into the flesh. “Are you sure? Delilah, there will be no turning back,” he growls, dipping his hand between us to align it with my entrance. “I’m going to fill you with my come over and over again until your body has no choice but to have my child.”
“I don’t have a choice anyway,” I remind him, nipping at his chin. “I agreed to it. Take me, Carmine. Take the last thing that’s meant to be yours.”
He rips the covers off the bed. “I want nothing in my way.”
He curls over me, a flash of worry pinching his brows as he inches his way in.
I release his hand and grab his shoulders. He pauses, staring at where I’m touching his scars, but it’s brief.
“Hold onto me, Sweetling.” He kisses either side of my cheeks before settling against my lips.
My fingernails dig into his skin, and I hope I don’t add more scars to him.