Page 9 of Psychotic Nightmares

“Please, I promise I won’t look under the mask, just comfort me.” Her small voice hits me straight into my previous blackened heart. This woman in front of me took that black canvas and painted it with her kind words, soft body and allowing me into her life.

Her eyes plead with me, and again I go against what my brain is telling me and slide into the bed beside her. Whenever I come here I always wear comfortable clothes to sleep in anyway so I don’t need to take anything off as I curl up behind her. I remove my gloves and throw them behind me, not wanting to disturb her any more. Her hair tickles my neck, her body trembles slightly as I wrap my arm around her, resting on her stomach. I feel a bit of skin where her top has risen a little and stroke delicate strokes. Her shoulders start to shake asloud, heavy sobs escape her lips. I hold her tighter, not saying a word and letting her cry it out.

That fucker will pay for what he has put my woman through. I will make sure of it. Even though it will go against every rule my team follows. It will go against my own boss’ orders. But I don’t care. Natalie is my world, and that bastard has cracked my world into a million little pieces. My own heart rips open by hearing her cries, by seeing the slices in her arm because of what he did.

Eventually Natalie’scries quiet down. Her body stops shaking and she takes a heavy breath. I go to sit up and she whimpers.

“It’s alright, treasure. I’m just going to get you some water.” I whisper while stroking her hair out of her face. “I’ll be back.”

She drinks a quarter of the bottle when I return. I quickly grab a flannel from the bathroom and wash her face before settling back into the bed.

“Thank you.” She whispers. I shuffle behindher and pull her close again, unable to find the bit of skin left uncovered, I lift her top a little and continue with my stroking. “Thank you for coming here tonight, thank you for stayingwith me.”

“Anytime, treasure. Now go to sleep. And when you wake, I’ll cook you breakfast.”

She huffs out a tired laugh, “when don’t you.” She yawns then sighs. “I would love to know more about you one day. The real you. The man under the mask.” Her voice is quiet and her breathing starts getting heavy before evening out.

I can’t tell her everything, especially about my job as a hit man, or about who my family are. But maybe I can start with something simple, “You asked for my name once.” I whisper, hoping she is asleep and can’t hear me. “It’s Julian.” I lift my mask a little to expose my lips and place a kiss against the bite mark on her shoulder.

Her raven hair spreads over the pillow. “Come on Julian.” She pouts. “We’ve been together for years now, we lost our v cards to each other. I love you and yet you’re still holding back. Why?”

My head pounds with the incoming headache. She wants me to show her the real me. The me Ikeep locked behind my fake smile.

“Jaz, I can’t.”

“You can.” She holds my face in her hands. “We are in this together Julian.” She lifts her hips to meet mine, her pussy wet and ready for me.

I can’t do it.

I can’t.

“Please.” She pleads.

No.

No.

No.

“Julian. I want you to fuck me, no holding back.”

“Jaz.” I shake my head. “No.”

“Yes.” Her eyes show no fear. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll be okay with this.

No.

“Lose control.” She uses her dominant voice.

Fuck.

No.

“Jaz. stop.” I grit my teeth and go to stand. Only for her to pull me back down, wrapping her legs around me to keep me in place.

“No.” She kisses me fiercely. “Show me what you want to do.”

Yes.