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He cried, inconsolable. He dropped his head to the sofa next to her while she whispered to him, her hand in his hair, her head touching his, trying to calm him.

“I’m so sorry, Nevvie. I wish Alex had attacked me. I wish I could take your pain away.”

She forced him to look at her. “Tyler,” she said, her voice firm and unwavering. “Stop. If I hadn’t been attacked I might have left and still be pissed at you. I might never have seen the truth about you. I might never have known. I might have lost you both forever.” She watched him and waited until his eyes finally settled on hers. “How long has it been since you spoke to your father?”

He shuddered. “Since I was seventeen.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you stop trying to make your parents love you by taking care of everyone else?”

He froze, closed his eyes and sobbed, the sound breaking her heart. She slowly rolled to her side, scooted to the back of the couch, and patted the cushion next to her. He carefully curled up with her and rested his head on her chest while she held him. He cried himself to sleep in her arms as she whispered to him, trying to soothe his long-wounded soul.

* * *

When Nevvie awoke at dawn the next morning Tyler wasn’t there, but the cushions next to her were warm. He hadn’t left too long before. She carefully pushed into a sitting position.

It hurt, enough to make her jaw clench from the effort. Thomas had been right to put her on the couch.

Frankly, she didn’t want to be in their bed if both boys weren’t with her.

She stood on shaky legs and used the guest bathroom, then walked to their bedroom. The bed was empty and disheveled. She touched her hand to where Tyler would sleep. Cold.

She heard the shower start and gave Tyler a moment to get under the spray, knowing he’d be standing there thinking, trying to wake up, running through his freakishly endless mental to-do list before soaping up.

She slowly stripped and left her clothes where they fell. Tyler would gladly take care of them. She silently opened the bathroom door and crossed the cool tile floor. Sensing her presence, he turned when she stepped into the shower.

Eyes red and puffy, he looked like hell.

Tyler’s gaze ran over her body, finally seeing what Alex’s knife did to her. Thomas helped her bathe in the hospital. Tyler hadn’t seen the full extent of the damage. He hesitantly put his arms around her, careful to place his hands where he wouldn’t hurt her, cradling her as he cried.

“I’m sorry, Nevvie. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh. It’s okay.”

“Oh God, Nevvie, I love you much it hurts, sweetheart.”

She kissed his chest and carefully wiggled against him, trapping his cock between her thighs and shifting slightly in the familiar way she knew would arouse him.

It did, but he cried. “I don’t want to hurt you, we can’t—”

She put finger on his lips. “Do you trust me?”

He vigorously nodded.

“Do you still want me?”

He’d give himself whiplash if he kept that up. But she felt a stirring inside her, knowing it was the control she held over his soul and body, knowing despite his despair she still had the power to arouse him.

Nevvie wrapped her fingers around his member. She knew there was no way the boys had made love with each other or taken care of themselves while she was gone. She backed up until she felt the cool tile against her flesh, leading him by his shaft. She spread her legs a little. It wouldn’t be perfect; he’d have to compensate.

“Tyler,” she whispered, “get on your knees, baby.”

He dove to the shower floor, gently licking and kissing her damp folds while she braced her hands on his shoulders. He nibbled and sucked her clit, stroking her with his tongue and fingers, moaning with her when she dug her fingers into him as she came.

She patted the top of his head, and he climbed to his feet. She caught his cock and guided him to her entrance, leaning against him for support. “Now,” she whispered, “show me how much you love me, baby.”

He carefully shifted his weight, bent his knees to accommodate their difference in height and her reduced mobility, and slowly seated his shaft inside her still-quivering sex.

She put her arms around him with a sigh of pleasure. She still hurt, but the physical and emotional sensations were well worth the discomfort. “That’s what you did to me,” she whispered. “That’s what you always do to me, baby. Because I love you.”

He took several slow, careful strokes, afraid of hurting her but now a prisoner to the passion building within him.

“Will you promise to never leave me?” she softly asked.

“I’ll never leave you, Nevvie. I promise.”

“Will you do anything I ask, Tyler?”

“Yes!”

She used one hand to hold his chin steady so her eyes bored into his, inches from him. “Do you promise?”

He nodded.

She dropped her voice even further, used the sultry slave voice. “I want you to come for me, Tyler. Show your little slave you still love and want her.”

His eyes widened. He took two strong strokes and she felt his hot liquid shoot deep inside her. He dropped his head to her shoulder and moaned as she caressed his back, then he braced his hands against the wall to maintain his balance as his knees weakened.

* * *

He bathed her, washing her hair, shaving her legs, making her lean on him for support. They didn’t talk. When they finished he carefully patted her dry, kissing her body, constantly murmuring, “I love you,” against her flesh.

He led her to their bedroom and got her some clothes, one of Thomas’ loose T-shirts and a pair of his own baggy silk boxers. He helped her dress, then she held his arm as he walked her back to the couch.

“I’ll get your morning meds ready.”

“Don’t bother,” Thomas said, scowling as he walked into the kitchen, his hair disheveled from sleep. “I’ll take care of her. We don’t need your help.”

Before she could stop him, Tyler’s gaze dropped to the floor. He retreated to their bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.

Thomas waited until Tyler had departed. “Good morning, sugar.” He knelt beside her, kissed her, and tucked a damp hair behind her ear. “How did you sleep?”

She fixed him with her green eyes. “You need to quit hating him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do, because I don’t hate him. It’s hard to have the two men I love at each other’s throats.”

“How can you love him? This is all his fau—”

She put a finger on his lips, stilling him. “Stop.” She left her finger there, waiting for his sweet brown eyes to settle on hers.

“Do you trust me?”

He nodded. She would have to heal them individually before they could heal together.

She cradled his head in her hands and kissed him. At first he tried to pull away, afraid of hurting her. Then he responded, exploring her mouth, his tongue gently caressing hers. That’s when she sat back with his face still trapped between her palms.

“Will you do anything for your little slave, Master?”

His eyes widened, but he nodded.

“Promise?”

He nodded.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

He started to protest. She used her thumbs to gently silence him and tried again.