“When are you coming home, baby girl? I miss you.”

“Uh, when hell freezes over?”

“God, listen to you. You don’t even have a job there, you could pack up and come over tomorrow if you liked.”

“Mom, I already told you, I do have a job. It’s just a short-term contract but I’m enjoying it. I like it out here.”

“He’s not going to be out until 2019, Kate. He might as well be dead. Is it him you’re scared of?”

I had read the news reports of his arrest and sentencing like it was some kind of dream. I still couldn’t quite believe it. All the time he had been travelling up here to threaten me; he’d had another girl back home. Another girl he was abusing. That there was someone else at all was more of a surprise to me than the fact that he had beaten her too. And now she was in a coma in the hospital and he was in jail for a decade for aggravated assault …and now I had to take seemingly millions of calls from my concerned mother.

“I have as much to be afraid of now as I did before,” I said, which was a not-so-subtle dig at the fact that pretty much nobody believed me all those years I suffered in silence while Derek showed a smiling face to the world and tortured me behind closed doors.

“At any rate, baby, that city is just full of crazies, and I know how you seem to attract people like that…”

“Mom please…”

“I’m just saying. We miss you at home.”

“I miss you too, mom.”

“You need anything baby?”

“Nah. I’m good. But I have to get going.”

“Yeah? You making friends over there?”

“Something like that.”

Silence.

“Mom, I’m fine, I promise.”

“You know that none of it’s your fault, right baby?”

I sighed loudly. My mom had an irritating way of always knowing exactly what was bothering me.

“I know, mom. And I know he might have gotten off much more lightly if I hadn’t reported any of what happened.”

“Ok good. And she’ll be fine. She’s in rough shape but they say she’s gonna be fine.”

“Sure mom. I have to go though.”

I hung up and briefly considered how a woman beaten into a coma was ‘fine’ but pushed the thought out of my mind. I picked up the gift-wrapped box on the kitchen table, took a deep breath and walked out the front door.

Max and I were… not dating exactly. But we weren’t not dating, either. I wasn’t used to men backing off when I told them to, to be honest. I kept waiting to see when he would drop the sweet, decent guy façade and show his true colors. But he never did. Despite myself, despite the fact that I had been nothing but an unrepentant nuisance to start off with and despite him looking like a literal Greek god, he stuck around. He didn’t care that I was ‘damaged’. In fact, he seemed to know what I meant by ‘damaged’ even before I even said it.

I pressed his doorbell and waited. He opened, looked at the present and then at me.

“Hey… what’s in the box?” he said cheerfully. I thrust it into his hands and pushed my way inside.

“It’s for you,” I said. He looked as though he’d never received a gift before. I found myself a seat and watched as he gingerly unwrapped the paper. When he finally realized what it was, his hands froze where they were and he stared at it. I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down, just once.

“You… this is…” he said but couldn’t speak. He took it out the box and examined it, hands shaking.

“I know it’s not exactly the same one or anything, but—”

“Kate, thank you so much,” he said quietly. He seemed genuinely touched. It was cheap, in the end: just a simple button compass I had found off an old veteran on eBay. I had done some research and found precisely the same kind favored by the SEALs.

“The guy who sold it to me is retired. He said he took that thing all over the world, so it’s not like, just some soulless object.” He looked up at me with astonishment.

“I think this is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received,” he said and turned it over again and again in his hands. “It’s just like the one I had…”

If I didn’t know any better I might have said he was choking up a little.

“Consider it a thank you for all that stupid scar cream you bought for me!” I said and watched him closely. I was floored when he lunged over to me and grabbed me in a tight bear hug, squeezing me like his life depended on it.

“Kate, thank you. I’m serious.”

There in his arms, it was easy to remember why I had really come here. Derek was in jail. The business was doing well. I wanted him. He wanted me. Why not?

I ran my hands along his strong back as he held me there in a hug, and soon it changed to something else. I don’t know what made it different, but suddenly his arms around me and my arms around him felt more serious somehow. I didn’t want him to let me go. I could feel his body under his clothing, and he was so warm.

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna …should we do this, for real?”

He tried to pull back to look into my face but I held on tight, afraid to let go of the moment. He stroked my hair and then kissed my temple.

“I think I’m ready to move on now. If you’re …if you wanted to …maybe we could see where this went,” I said. Maybe it was time now to see what happened when we didn’t stop ourselves from kissing.

“There’s no rush, Kate. I like you. You know that. Let’s just go slow, OK?”

“Yes. Slow. Let’s go slow.”

Kissing him had been so intense for me I kind of didn’t even think of what could come afterwards. The thought of having sex with this beast of a man was just something strange and hypothetical, not something real that could ever actually happen to someone like me. The only man I had ever been with was Derek. And we all know how that turned out.

“Slow…” I said and the tail of the word got lost on his lips again. Here was a man who used his power for good. A man who didn’t hurt, but who protected and defended against hurt. It was like a revelation to me, to feel the strength of his muscles under his shirt and not be afraid but… turned on. His fingers gently played with my hair and stroked my cheek and neck as our lips played a new game with each other, first his tongue tip advancing and caressing mine, and then retreating so mine could take the lead and kiss him back, a sweet little dance of passion.

An almost painful ache radiated from between my legs. I had hated him once. I had watched him secretly through his living room window and judged him, but now I could admit it: I had really just been afraid. Afraid of strong men, afraid of how deliciously out of control I felt whenever I looked at him, afraid of what might happen if I let go and allowed myself to…

“Kate, what are you…?”

I didn’t know what I was doing, honestly. My hands had a life of their own, and I was now watching them tear fiercely at his belt with as much astonishment as he was.

“You don’t have to… we don’t have to do any of this now,” he said and put strong hands on my shoulders. But I couldn’t stop. There was a new inertia in my fingertips and they fumbled on their own, possessed, until I had unlinked his belt, pulled it free and tossed it aside to the floor. Hearing it clatter on the tiles was thrilling. I could have stopped to consider what I was doing, but my fingers already had a plan of their own, and were now quickly working his trouser button, till I could yank them down and reveal the soft cotton of his boxer shorts underneath and the faint scent of his skin that drove me wild.

The slight moan in his exhale was all the encouragement I needed. I knew exactly what he had in here, and I wanted it. Oh god, just the thought of holding that gorgeous cock in my hands was making me dizzy. He gently clasped my head in his hands and brought me up for another deep kiss, but my hands couldn’t stop. I peeled down those boxer shorts and released that thick monster of his. I squeezed my eyes tightly into the kiss and let my hands play over his warm, silky smooth skin. He was made of marble. Every furrow and carved ripple in his skin was hard as rock, and when my trembling fingertips grazed that hot, stiff cock of his, I gasped out loud into the kiss.

It felt even better than it looked. It was ridiculously unfair. He was good looking, kind, hot as a calendar model and he was hung like a horse? This must be what it felt like to win the lottery.

He pressed eagerly against me and soon I felt his hands travelling over my body to pull my own clothing off. But I was already far off. Eyes closed, each little sensation throbbing over my body came screeching into the fore, amplified like I was in slow motion, or playing out some delicious dance deep underwater where I could feel the tiny ripples of every breath, every touch.

My top and skirt disappeared somehow in the hunger our skins had for one another and the frenzy we had to get them as close to one another as possible. When I was fully naked and so was he, we pressed up tightly against one another and the relief was palpable. His body was like the most delicious, warm, breathing wall – somehow so yielding but so firm all at once. The sight of his dog tag – still on from the class he had just taught – made my knees weak. I suddenly wanted nothing but to give him everything, to submit fully to this mountain of a man. I had watched him for weeks – I felt like I already knew well each and every muscle in his body – but now I was pressing firmly up against those same muscles, my appreciation for just how well-built he was suddenly taking on a desperate edge. I couldn’t touch him enough. My hands didn’t know where to put themselves.

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful,” he said and the ache between my legs kicked up a notch. His cock held snugly between our naked bellies, I rose up on my toes to kiss him, each time finding some new delicious angle I hadn’t found to kiss before. My mind unhooked itself, I let my eyes flutter closed and I yielded to all the wonderful things his hands seemed to be doing over my skin.

But then he pulled away.

I looked at him, confused.

“Kate… that looks so …painful,” he said. I followed his eyes to see he was looking at my various marks and bruises. He took a step back, his eyebrows kinked inwards and he looked at me up and down. I suddenly saw myself through his eyes. The series of fresh cuts and bruises over the patchwork of older, yellowing ones. The long-healed scars all over my arms and legs that were pale, like ghosts of the gaping red wounds they used to be.

“I guess this must look pretty bad to you,” I said, and all at once, the true horror of how I had been living my life till then came flooding into my mind. Compared to his strong, velvety body, I must have seemed so broken. So battered. Looking at the expression of his face was like staring into a new mirror, and I was taken aback: I was in rough shape. It was as though I could only see how badly Derek had hurt me through his eyes.

He took a step forward and traced cautious fingers over my various bumps and scar tissue. I was a broken girl, smashed countless times and put back together again, and forever more people would be able to see the places where I had been split apart.

“Please don’t feel sorry for me,” I said, and set my jaw.

“I just… I don’t want to hurt you.”

I’d had enough. I was tired of being the timid, flinching victim. Tired of hiding and watching from the sidelines. Didn’t I deserve a hot guy and his big cock? Wasn’t I supposed to be moving on?

“Then don’t hurt me,” I said, and I lunged in for another passionate kiss. He staggered backwards and laughed quietly, surprised at the force I had summoned to push him backwards against the wall. My lips delivered ferocious kisses all along his bare abdomen, down the ripples of his belly and then I was on my knees, and soon after that I was planting kisses into that warm, sweet smelling nest of dark coils at the base of his cock. His scent was intoxicating. I grabbed him and guided his purple tip into my mouth and he tasted of sweat and soap and skin and salt and something else primal that woke up deep, animal sensations in me.

I took the length of him into my mouth, wanting to do to him what I had seen him do on the sofa all those weeks ago. I wanted to please him, to taste that pleasure… his fingers knitted into my hair and held me there gently but firmly. I was a devotee, worshipping at his altar. I swallowed him deep down till my lips met the base of his cock and I moaned, the mere thought of how close I was to having him fuck me causing streams of wetness to cover my inner thighs. It felt wonderful to be there, naked and exposed and dripping wet before him, and I got a delicious thrill in imagining what he saw when he looked down.

“Will you fuck me…?” I said after I slipped his fat cock from my lips and made eye contact. He raised just a single eyebrow at me and gave me a look that I was sure would set me on fire. The next instant went so quickly I could barely make sense of it. Max was a master of the physical. He understood the underlying mechanisms of the human form; he had trained himself in those arts to such a level that when he knelt down, grabbed me and flipped me over onto my belly, I scarcely felt it. I just knew I wanted him to keep going…

“Fuck…” he growled under his breath. I had only just cried out at the sensation of having the thick head of dick press me open when he already driving the length of it all the way into me, one hard inch at a time, and just as I had caught my breath he brought his strong hips back into me again, brutally, opening me up all the way inside and sending ripples of pleasure into me that my had even my toes curling.

This was actually happening. No foreplay. No nothing. We were fucking now, and it was raw and animalistic, me flat on my belly on the floor, and him squatting above me, his strong hips curling into mine with each pump. The sensation of him fucking so deeply into me was overwhelming enough that it took me a moment to even realize that he had grabbed a fistful of my hair and was pulling my head back hard. I gasped and writhed under him. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do but lean into that savage rhythm. With each of his hands prying my ass cheeks apart, his sole mission in that moment seemed to be to plunge into me as fully as possible, and with the oceans of wetness, my body wanted the same.

It was too much. It was scary. His body was so much stronger than mine, so much more dominating. Each thrust was hard and uncompromising, masterfully pushing my body to its furthest limits, and I couldn’t help but to follow. I felt like we had both become animals there on the floor, overcome with something so deeply instinctual that all decency flew out the window. The sounds we made were not human. The way he pulled my head back and arched my upper back was deeply primordial. Together, we went to a dark, dirty place, and with each delightfully vicious stroke of that thick cock, I was edged closer and closer to losing my mind.

In a few breathless minutes I felt him stirring up a bright, molten ball somewhere deep inside me that threatened to burst all over his cock. I was afraid, I wanted to hold back, to breathe and wait, but he wouldn’t let me. He picked up the pace, his hard, sweat-slick body screwing into me even harder, so my hip bones ground roughly into the floor beneath me. We were two bodies, pleasing themselves against one another. That quivering ball of pleasure around the tip of his cock grew and grew and he seemed to feel it, pounding into me so hard and fast I lost my breath, and soon I couldn’t help but tumble into a long, bone-shattering orgasm that had me convulsing against the floor and then back up against his heavy body.

I whimpered and in a heartbeat I felt him pull out, grunt deeply and curse under his breath as a few hot, wet spurts fell onto the skin of my lower back. I could hear my heart pounding so hard in my ears I wondered if I was about to die. My breathing and his came in irregular rasps. I felt electrified, like a series of fireworks wired directly to my clit had been set off and now all my fuses were blown. I was so exhausted I could do nothing but collapse under him, the tension that was in my muscles a moment before melting out.

I regained consciousness like someone woken from sleepwalking. He lifted his immense weight off me and I turned to see him kneeling behind me, his still hard cock thumping heavy against his toned thigh, his deep chest heaving slowly. He caught my eye, and in that split second we stared at one another, him still painting, a sheen of sweat on his brow, and it was even more intimate than …whatever the hell we had just done.

“Kate…” he said, the naughtiest smile creeping in on one side of his mouth. I realized I was still flat on the floor, and staggered to get up and regain my composure, feeling a blush coming on for some stupid reason. I found my way to my knees and he reached forward to clasp my hands and kiss them, then he found my gaze and smiled at me, with a look on his face that seemed a lot like astonishment.

“Max, I’m sorry, I…”

“Sorry?”

One kiss for my left hand, one for the right.

“I don’t know what got into me,” I said. It had never been like that with Derek. Ever. In fact, the whole experience seemed so strange and unbelievable I didn’t know what to do about it but apologize.

“What got into you? Oh, I think I know,” he said, giggling and smiling, and I couldn’t help my eyes trail down to gawk at that glistening, still-stiff cock of his, standing straight up in his lap like the most obscenely delicious half melted ice lolly. I laughed, the warm smile on his face putting irresistible butterflies in my stomach. My face felt warm. I tried to suppress a smile and then looked away, gathering my limbs into a ball and holding my knees against my chest.

“Hey, are you OK? That was kind of…”

“Crazy…”

“Yeah a little,” he said, tracing fairy-light fingers along my shoulders and arms.

“I’ve wanted to do that to you for so long,” he said, his head tilted tenderly to the side. “I wasn’t expecting… well, I didn’t think you’d be so… oh I’ll just shut up now, I’m not real good at this kind of stuff,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh, you’re good alright,” I said and then our eyes locked again. How could it possibly be that merely looking into those hazel eyes of his was turning me on all over again? How could it be that every little stroke of his fingers was stirring something again in me?

He leaned in for a quick peck on my cheek, touching seeing as we were both drenched in sweat, naked, and I in particular had a few dribbles of cum sliding slowly down my back at that very moment.

“Thank you for trusting me like that,” he said, and gave me another peck.

Trust. Is that what I was doing? Is that what this new feeling was? I grew silent and traced my own fingers over his skin, feeling the heat there, feeling the electricity in the moment slowly dissipate like heat waves above a dying fire.

I looked down at my body again. At the jagged scars on my knees, my forearms, on the side of my ribcage… but now they looked different. How could this destroyed body feel something so wonderful? How could this soldier, this killer, this man built and trained for violence, do such mind-meltingly sweet things to me? I didn’t know.

We sat together in silence for the longest time, wondering at the line we crossed and what strange new world it had carried us into.