“Then do it,” I taunt him, rocking upwards, attempting to find the desperate relief I crave. “Fuck me, Darius. Exactly how you want to.” I don’t know where my courage comes from. But once the words bubble up, I mean them. “Use me. Freely. You have my consent.”
“Wildflower,” Darius warns. “You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.” He cups my cheek with his hand, turning the water off behind me.
Instinctively, I know that if this moment ends, some fundamental part of our relationship will be flawed. An imbalance of power. A lack of equilibrium.
Darius will forever be guilty for what he did…and so will I.
We rescued countless victims so I can’t truly regret it. But I can acknowledge I’m the reason he was forced to lose his virginity on a stage. I’m the reason everything went sideways. I’m the reason for his guilt.
With the water gone, we are just two naked adults standing skin to skin. Pushing from the wall, further into him, I jut out my chin.
“I do,” I advise. And I do. I understand that allowing Darius to freely use me is terrifying, but it is alsoexhilarating. It is a gift I want to provide, it is a step in the correct direction.
A way to find our way back to each other without any of the guilt. A lifeline in an otherwise rocky boat.
“Sunday.” Darius’s fingers find my chin, he tips my head left and right, examining every piece of my face. “Fuck, what are you doing to me? I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Narrowing my eyes, I stare as directly into Darius’s as he allows. “You arenothinglike that man. This is consent. I am giving it. And if I say stop. That means I am taking it back.”
Darius pulls away and turns to get out of the shower.
Rejection and anxiety twist a deep knife in my stomach. I didn’t realize how much I expected–needed–Darius to agree until hedoesn’t.
He quickly dries off before twisting around with a towel, offering it to me.
Reaching out to take it, he catches my wrist, his eyes darken. “You say stop, or you tap me three times, just like this.” He offers a sample to my wrist.
Heat furls deep and heavy into me. A relief so sweet I nearly implode.
I jerk my head.
It’s all he needs, and then Darius drags me unceremoniously out of the shower, into the towel, into his arms. He wraps it around me, drying me, his strong hands repeating the motions of before when he washed me.
Except this time the intent is completely different. He is harsher, more sensual in his movements.
He pauses between the apex of my thighs, he watches me with a fierce intensity as he drops the towel to the ground.
As the rough pads of his fingers find my sensitive skin.
As his other hand moves to my ass, stroking it before digging his fingers into me and dragging me to him.
“Sunday,” he groans, cupping my cunt. “Do you know what you do to me? Do you know how much I have wanted to trace every piece of you, to memorize every blemish, to kiss away every bad memory?” Dropping to his knees and burrowing himself between my thighs, he plunges a finger into me.
Arching into him, I let out a mewl. My nails find his shoulders, digging into the skin there.
Darius is the sweetest, the softest of the brothers. But in some ways he is the most broken, the most ruined. He has taken on the weight of a world that does not deserve him, on the guilt of his existence, and he has treated it as a challenge each and every day.
It is why he will always be my safe place.
It is why I trust him as he pushes another finger into me.
It is why I am able to relax even as he readies me for him.
And it is why I will always,alwayslove him.
38
October 9th
