Page 39 of I Will Break You

He nods again.

“How did you survive the execution?” I ask.

“I didn’t.” He blows a stream of cold air on my thigh. “Are you going to show me that sweet pussy?”

“Turn on the light,” I say.

“Show me in the dark.”

My head swims, and my eyelids flutter. I’m torn betweenwanting to please him and being terrified of another disappointment. Within my restraints, I work up the fabric of my nightgown with trembling fingers, exposing my thighs to the cool air.

Common sense reminds me that I should focus on breaking out of this dream and get ready for my appointment with Dr. Saint. I should ground myself to reality with deep breathing. However, the part of me that’s desperate to break away from her and Mom’s controlling influences urges me to ignore my rational thoughts.

And when Xero draws closer, my clit swells. The delicious ache between my thighs overtakes any sane reasoning.

“I can’t raise it any higher. Can you help?” I whisper.

His pale fingers emerge from the side of the mattress, and he lifts my hem, exposing the tops of my thighs. Shivering at the unexpected chill, I push my legs further apart.

Part of me acknowledges the ridiculousness of flashing the ghost of an executed prisoner. Another part of me hasn’t felt so excited since Xero first replied to my letter.

“No panties?” he asks, his voice thickening with arousal.

“I usually sleep naked, but?—”

“It’s alright, my precious little jewel. I wouldn’t want you exposing what’s mine.”

The butterflies in my stomach take flight and flutter around my heart. My chest lightens. My lips part with a happy sigh. He still wants me, despite all my mistakes.

“What happens next?” I ask.

“That’s entirely up to you, my love,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to lick your sweet pussy?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Then you will tell me something.”

“What?”

“Did you ever love me?”

My breath catches. “Of course.” Seconds pass, and the air thickens, pushing down on my chest like a lead weight. “I-I’ve never been in love. I’ve been manipulated, infatuated, but I don’t know what it means to love someone who isn’t a friend.”

He nods. “Did you mean what you said in your letters?”

“Every word.”

“And the sex contract?”

“It was a fantasy. Something to brighten up my nights. I consented to all the things I marked off, but I never thought they would happen in real life.”

“So, when you got the chance to marry me and consummate our love, you ran.”

“I was attacked.”