Just One Orgasm!

The question lingered between them.

"What did she show you?"

Emilia didn’t answer immediately.

She looked at him for several long seconds, as though trying to decide whether she should bring it up at all.

Finally, she drew in a slow breath.

"Rowan showed me the burn scars on her stomach."

Adrian went perfectly still. His expression didn’t change. Only his eyes did.

"She said..." Emilia swallowed carefully. "...they were from your ex."

Silence settled over the room.

The violin music continued drifting softly through the hidden speakers, but somehow it sounded impossibly far away.

Adrian lowered his hand from the ribbon of her mask. "She shouldn’t have shown you that."

"It wasn’t to frighten me."

"I know." His voice was quiet. "It was to protect me."

Emilia nodded. "She told me she wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again."

He looked past her for a moment, toward the candles glowing around the room.

"She’s alright now."

Emilia didn’t answer.

"She healed." He said again, as if to convince her.

"Physically?" Emilia questioned.

He looked back at her. "As much as anyone can."

Silence stretched between them again. For the first time, an uncertain silence existed between them.

Emilia lowered her gaze briefly. "There was something else."

Adrian’s brows drew together. His eyes darkened, but not towards her. He waited patiently for her to speak.

She hesitated.

"You remember..." Her voice became softer. "...the night you stayed over in my room."

His eyes remained on hers.

"When I touched your back."

He didn’t move.

"I saw something."

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"You have cigarette burns."

He did not react. He did not even blink.

"They’re near your shoulder." She lifted one hand unconsciously, indicating the place. "Close to your underarm."

His expression remained calm. "I don’t." He murmured. "I have tattoos. That’s all I have on my back."

"You do."

"They’re old scars." He tried again.

"So I was right."

He sighed quietly. "They’re nothing."

"They aren’t."

"They’re healed."

Emilia’s eyes softened. She shook her head slowly. "That doesn’t make them nothing."

He looked away. "It was a long time ago."

Emilia searched his face. "Were they from your ex too?" Her voice came out quietly.

"No." He replied quickly

The answer came quickly, too quickly.

She frowned. "No?"

"No."

"Then who?"

Adrian walked toward the table instead. He adjusted one of the place settings that didn’t need adjusting.

"The food will get cold."

She didn’t move. "Adrian."

He continued pretending to straighten the silverware. "Rowan is alright now."

Her mind turned into a chaotic whirlwind. She let out a sharp exhale that made her shoulders sag.

Adrian on the other hand cracked his knuckes. He flexed his fingers, visibly trying to stay in check. "My ex isn’t part of my life anymore."

"I know."

"So there’s nothing for you to worry about."

"That’s not what I asked."

He looked up. "There aren’t cigarette burns on my back."

She stared at him, then she gave the smallest shake of her head. Her heartbeat fastened, and she blinked.

"You just admitted they’re old scars." She reminded him.

His shoulders stiffened. For the first time since she met him, he looked almost... cornered.

He gritted his teeth. His jaw tightened. "They’re insignificant."

"They matter to me."

He drew the ribbons of his mask. Only after he took off his dark mask did he respond to her. "They shouldn’t."

"They do."

He looked at her for several seconds. His stomach twisted, as violent memories brutally tried to crawl their way to the top of his mind.

His composure didn’t flatter for a second. "We’re supposed to be having dinner."

"We will."

"Emilia—"

"But first..." She crossed the distance between them carefully until only a step separated them.

He watched her without speaking.

She reached up, and both of her hands settled gently against either side of his face.

Her palms were warm.

Her touch was impossibly careful, as though she feared pressing too hard might somehow hurt him.

His breathing changed. Barely. However, she noticed. He watched him take in a slow breath of relief.

Her thumbs brushed lightly across his cheeks. "You don’t have to tell me everything."

His eyes closed briefly.

"I won’t ask about your ex."

He said nothing. He parted his eyes and stared at her, with his breathing now slower.

"I won’t ask about Rowan." She searched his eyes. "I won’t ask about anything else."

Emilia searched them quietly.

"You can talk to me, Adrian."

He didn’t answer.

"Just tell me this." Her voice trembled with quiet sincerity. "Just this one thing."

She swallowed.

"And then you can decide to say nothing else."

Neither of them moved.

The candles flickered softly around them.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city continued glittering beneath the night sky, and the company gathering continued.

Inside the room, time seemed to stop.

Adrian looked into her eyes for what felt like forever.

He could have lied. He almost did. He had spent years lying to the people around him who asked, changing the subject, burying himself in work, and pretending.

Because pretending was easier than remembering. Remembering meant becoming that frightened little boy again.

His gaze never left Emilia’s.

She wasn’t demanding, or judging. She wasn’t trying to satisfy her curiosity. She simply wanted to know, and wanted to understand.

Her thumbs moved gently across his skin.

"Tell me..." Her voice was barely above a whisper now. "Who gave you those cigarette burns?"

His jaw tightened.

She waited quietly.

"Please, Adrian." She pleaded.

A long silence followed.

"So much of me..." he said at last, his voice rougher than before, "...belongs to the past."

His gaze searched hers for a long moment.

"There are things I can tell you." His voice softened. "And there are things I don’t know how to say out loud."

"You don’t have to tell me everything." Her thumbs brushed gently against his cheeks. "Just this."

For a fleeting second, something vulnerable crossed his face. It vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Very carefully, Adrian lifted his hands.

His fingers wrapped lightly around her wrists, and he moved them away. One by one, he lowered her hands from his face.

The warmth of her touch disappeared.

"I can’t."

The words were scarcely louder than a breath.

Before she could answer, he turned away from her. The distance between them was only a single step.

Yet somehow, it felt immeasurable.

Emilia stared at his back, and at the rigid line of his shoulders. She stared at the quiet loneliness that seemed to settle around him.

Her heart ached.

Slowly, she closed the space between them.

Her fingers reached for his arm.

They rested there gently, and he didn’t pull away. With the smallest amount of pressure, she turned him back toward her.

Their eyes met once again.

She didn’t interrupt.

"Just this." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Please."

He closed his eyes.

For a long moment, he simply breathed. Then he opened them again, and when he spoke, his voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it.

"My mother."

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