She woke drowsily the next morning and lounged around in bed awhile hoping to avoid him, but eventually she rose, entering the kitchen where she found him at the table reading.
"Good morning sleepyhead," he teased, motioning toward the bar where a bowl and a box of cereal sat. "I've eaten already."
She sat down and began eating, watching him with some suspicion. He moved to stand across from her as she ate. When she finished he began his inquisition again. "You said you had never been touched by a boy Hannah. Define never."
She glanced at him questionably, but decided this was considered a direct order and she was not willing to risk another punishment just yet. "I've never been romantically involved with anyone. A couple years ago there was a guy I'd dated a few times and he tried to put his arm around me. I freaked out and left. Never heard from him again after that."
He raised his eyebrows. "Hannah, when was the last time someone held you? Not sexually motivated, just for the sake of holding you?"
She looked away from him. "I don't remember."
"Give me an estimate. Five years? Ten?"
The girls shook her head. "I mean it, I don't remember. I suppose my parents held me when I was little, but they weren't exactly the most affectionate people around. I didn't care much for physical affection either, even when I was young."
He moved around the bar toward her, extending his arms. "May I? I promise sweetheart, I will only hold you. Nothing more, and I will stop whenever you want."
Her first instinct was to refuse outright, but she was curious. Closing her eyes, she slowly nodded her head. He gathered her in his arms, carrying her into the living room where he sat in a leather armchair, rocking her encouragingly. "You okay?" he asked, reassured when she nodded her head.
At first the tension was obvious, but after a few minutes she experimentally laid her head on his chest. He noticed her rapid breathing and after a few minutes felt her trembling. He almost released her then, before he realized she was quietly crying. He was in a quandary, should he put her down or continue holding her? He decided to wait it out and only to release her if she asked him to do so.
He found it rather overwhelming trying to guess at her thoughts. Granted she had cried when waking from the nightmare, but he knew she hadn't when spanked, or even whipped. Abruptly he realized he was viewing raw vulnerability, and he felt almost as though he had been given a gift of great value. He lost track of the time as they sat in silence, her tears finally tapering off.
"Hannah, tell me something. How far did they go trying to break you?" She stiffened noticeably in his arms.
"Please, don't make me," she begged desperately.
Blinking, he looked down at her, a thought occurring to him. "Okay, not yet. But one more question. You can give me a simple yes or no, but I need an answer. Before they took you were you ever sexually abused?"
She shook her head insistently, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Somehow he sensed helping her recover from more recent events was more likely than helping her overcome trauma that had long since been buried. After a few moments she relaxed again, moving to sit up in his lap.
"You said you wouldn't punish me for asking questions."
He tilted his head, assessing her intent. "I won't punish you, but won't promise that I'll answer you either."
