Free Claimed by Sarah Fine Page A

Even now, she couldn’t really think about it, because she was too busy trying to bolster the fence around all those dangerous memories.
    Cacy’s delicate face pinched with sympathy. “I know, Galena. And I know this must be scary. But if you did want to go through with it, w e’d find someone good for you.”
    Galena ran her hand over her throat. “Okay. Thanks. I think I need that shower now.” Anything to get away from this conversation. Someone good for her? Could any man possibly be good for her? She shuddered. But then Dec’s face flickered in her mind, accompanied by a pang of sadness.
    Cacy gestured toward a door on the other side of the room. “You’ve got your own bathroom. Towels are in there. Enjoy. If you need me, I’m close. Just give me a shout.” She patted Galena’s arm and left her alone, shutting the door behind her.
    Galena trudged to the shower. It was the size of the entire bathroom in her and Eli’s apartment. And it had glass walls and colorful mosaic tiles. More luxuries. She stripped down quickly, turning her back to the giant mirror that took up most of one wall. She hated looking at herself. Once she was naked, she turned on the water, delighted to feel the warm spray caressing her fingers. She stepped into it gratefully, letting it wash away all the leavings of this terrible night. She wished it were possible to do the same with her memories.
    And her fears.
    Going through with this marriage would mean willingly putting herself at the mercy of a man. How could she possibly do that, especially with a stranger? She grabbed a washcloth and soaped it, her nose filling with the scent of lavender. And as her hands moved automatically, scrubbing her skin, her mind wandered, back to the days before sh e’d been broken, when sh e’d had a boyfriend, when sh e’d enjoyed touching him and letting him touch her. It was hard to reach past all the blackness for images of his face, for the times the y’d been skin to skin, for the way it had made her feel. It was so vague, a shadow of something that had been good, that sh e’d craved.
    Last night, when sh e’d been with Dec in her lab, she had felt a ripple of desire within her, the hum of hope, for the first time in two years. The fear hadn’t stopped her from thinking about his touch, from wondering how it might feel, from wanting to try. But what would happen if she did?
    The washcloth skimmed over her breasts, leaving her nipples hard and sensitive. Galena shivered despite the hot water. Could she let someone touch her again? The washcloth dipped lower, and she gritted her teeth and moved it around the scars, stroking down her hips instead. Her fingers brushed the soaked curls between her legs. Her thighs tensed, and anger rushed through her. She could barely even touch herself . A rare sort of rage burned through her, eating away at the thick cloak of numbness she usually wore. The y’d taken everything. The y’d made her own body her enemy. She was housed in a cage of bone and flesh and weakness, and it hadn’t been able to keep her safe. She was stuck inside this fragile mass of blood vessels and electrical charges, and what used to be hers felt foreign.
    “I want it back,” she whispered. She dropped the washcloth and slid her fingers between her legs, running them over the slick folds of skin, the entrance to her body. Her fingertip trailed up and circled the little nub, gentle and tentative. It made her feel dizzy, and she braced herself on the tile with her other hand. As the water rained down, she rubbed herself, exploring something that still felt like a strange, forbidden place. Part of her mind was trying to pull her into the ordered, clinical space where she spent most of her time, but another part was having none of it. Just feel. And own it. You can be safe within yourself.
    Sh e’d avoided this for so long that it didn’t feel safe at all. But it didn’t feel bad, either. Her heart was thumping steadily, not racing.