23
Peter
I dry myself off with a fluffy white towel; then I grab another one and wrap it around Sara as she steps out of the shower. She looks like she’s on the verge of shattering, her hazel eyes glittering with painful brightness, and despite the lust consuming me, I feel something close to pity.
She must hate herself right now. Almost as much as she hates me.
I rub the towel up and down her body, drying her, then wrap it around her wet hair. I know I’m treating her like a child instead of the grown woman that she is, but taking care of her calms me, helps me keep the darker impulses under control.
Helps me remember I don’t truly want to hurt her.
Bending down, I swing her up into my arms, and she lets out a startled gasp. “What are you doing?” She pushes at my chest. “Put me down!
