Crushing my mouth beneath his, he kissed me until I was breathless.

“If I had known you would’ve gotten your hearin’ back from a decent fuck, I would’ve done it a week and a half ago.”

“Liar. You would’ve made us wait anyway.” I laughed.

“Yeah…probably.”

We made it home in record time. The second we were through the door, Phil threw me over his shoulder and hauled ass up the stairs into the bedroom.

Both of us were panting as he set me on my feet, and we stared at one another for a few heartbeats when something in the atmosphere shifted. Behind his eyes, I saw the shadows from the heavy guilt, the knowledge of the pain he had inflicted on me. They were the black smudges darkening his soul.

“Baby Girl, I need you to do somethin’ for me,” he said, sounding uncertain but determined.

“What’s that?” I whispered in return.

Taking my face in his hands, he softly kissed me. “I need you to hurt me. Will you do that?”

For the most part, Phil loved being dominant. It was natural and easy for him, given his size and personality. That part of him shone through in huge quantities when he was up on stage, commanding thousands. The fact that he could command thousands was possibly the reason he was so arrogantly dominant all the time anyway.

Sucking in a deep breath, I replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that for you.”

He grinned. “Awesome.”

Phil needed to physically feel the pain that was eating him raw on the inside. He wanted to own his guilt and terror over the last three weeks in his flesh. I understood this, and admittedly…I kind of liked it. It was absolutely sex-inducing.

But I had a feeling he wanted more.

That was how he ended up naked with his wrists bound together, secured to the headboard with only enough slack to flip over if I needed him to. A few ideas were flitting through my mind, and I really thought he deserved to hurt a little bit, enough to feel it later on.

Right at this moment, I understood why he’d needed to share his hurt in the past, give it over to someone else. This felt…necessary. I needed to deliver it. As I straddled his waist, he and I stared into one another for some minutes, unguarded.

“You were the cause of most of my pain, Phil,” I told him, my voice deceptively soft.

He nodded. “I know, Baby. It’s why I want you to give it back to me. I need to carry it for you now.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, and my hand connected with his face with a sharp, stinging crack.

His head whipped to the side, and the breath left him in a whoosh.

“That’s for not touching me.” I slapped him again. “For telling me not to touch you.” Again. “I lost so many friends, people I loved, and just when I needed you the most, you abandoned me to face that horror alone!”

His chest jerked beneath me. “Fuck, Kenna—” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “I did. Oh my God…I’m so sorry—”

“Sorry? You left me! You let me rot alone in my own ringing head! You know what I felt?” What I’d felt was a furious and deep burning, fueled by all the mental anguish I had suppressed, ignored, and tried to forget.

“No, Baby—”

Crack!

“Fuck!” he grunted.

“I felt betrayed by the one person I had all my faith in. Deaf, alone, unwanted—”

“No!”

“Undesired. Unloved! Like a fucking burden being passed from one person to the next, whoever was taking fucking pity on me!” I shouted. The more I spoke, the more I recognized how true it was.

“Baby Girl—”

“I didn’t even know if I was Baby Girl anymore! You made me feel like garbage, Phil! Like, if I wasn’t one hundred percent functional, then I was disposable! I had just fought my way through literal hellfire, and it had only been the thought of you that made me fight so hard to survive. Then, you just turned your back on me—”

“STOP!” he screamed, tears leaking out of his eyes now. “Kenna, please…oh God, Baby…I’m sorry! I’m so, so, sorry.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!” I roared.

“You’re wrong!” he roared.

My hearing buzzed.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, Kenna! Fuck! I was out of my mind when I felt…you were gone! My heart was dead the moment I felt that last blast! You weren’t here anymore! I don’t know where you went, but you weren’t here with me! I was ready to die, woman!”

“Then, why did you leave me?” I spit.

“I was scared that I’d hurt you, that I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself—”

“I needed to feel you!”

“You needed to heal!”

“I needed your strength! Your love! And you took that away from me!”

He bit his lip so hard that blood welled and stained his pretty mouth red. “I know. I didn’t know what else to do, Kenna. I was so scared, and it wasn’t until…I know I did wrong. I know that. I don’t…I love you, Kenna. I love you more than it should be possible!”

Bending over, I brushed my mouth against his, tasting the blood. “I forgive you,” I whispered.

“I never wanted to make you feel like that,” he softly told me. “I was stupid.”

“No. Just scared.”

“Scared stupid then.”

I smiled. “If you insist.”

He nodded and licked the rest of the blood off his lip. “Don’t stop.”

“Just getting started,” I assured him.

Kissing him deeply, I sucked on his wounded lip before pressing my lips to his chin. Slowly, I went down his neck, his chest, his stomach. Abs rippled as his skin flushed with goose bumps. His breath hitched, and what a sweet sound it was.

Bright afternoon sunlight poured into the bedroom, and it felt so strange to do this to him with the luminous golden glow showcasing him. How enchanting, that he was so comfortable like this with me.

“Tell me…did you let anyone else have what’s mine?” I asked, knowing he hadn’t.

That shit with Koko had been repeatedly replaying itself in my head. He’d made it obvious he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him.

“Fuck no!” he snarled.

I rewarded him with a long, slow lick up the length of him, from base to weeping head. Salty clear fluid spread over my tongue, and I had to close my eyes and savor it. I’d missed his flavor.

“You taste so good, babe,” I told him.

“It felt good,” he whispered. “Fuck, I missed you. I was so fuckin’ lost without you. I felt…broken. You were there, within reach but so fuckin’ far away.”

Grasping him, I sucked the head of him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. My hand slipped between my legs, and I lubed my fingers up with myself. As I took him to the root, I wiggled my wet fingers into his crack, finding his tight ring of muscle, rubbing and pressing.

“Fuck…fuck, Kenna…” he moaned, making me tingle everywhere.

Inching my way inside, I sucked him hard. Phil started to tremble, sweat slicking his body. Thrusting his hips, writhing, he gasped and groaned, and—fuck me—it was beautiful to witness. His anus pulsed faintly, and I knew he was toeing the edge.

“Baby…oh God!” he cried.

He was a nerve ending away from an explosion when I pulled out my finger and drew my mouth up to the tip. Flicking it once with my tongue, I pulled off completely and shimmied off the bed.

“Fuck!” he screamed. “Don’t stop!”

Ignoring him, I sauntered into the bathroom to scrub my hands and smirk at my reflection in the mirror.

“KENNA!” he roared.

My, I loved the sound of it.

Emerging back into the bright bedroom, with the sight of Phil’s bronzed body blazing in the sunlight, I couldn’t help but smile. Poor man, he was being tortured. His cock looked close to erupting, red and purple, the veins bulging.

“Turn over,” I commanded. “It’s ass-beatin’ time.”

“Kenna, I can’t—”