Her moans filled the room as he continued to touch her, his rough hands driving her wild. She arched her back, giving him better access to her breasts, which were now hard and aching for his touch. As she moved against him, she felt a sharp pain deep inside, but it only served to heighten her arousal.

"Yes," she gasped out between kisses. "Like that." She rocked her hips harder against his, needing more contact, more friction.

"Oh God," she cried out as he cupped her breasts, her hips bucking wildly against his hand. She arched her back, offering herself up to him completely. The pleasure was nearly unbearable; it coursed through her like lightning, leaving her shaking with every touch.

"Raan," she whimpered as he pinched her nipple, the sensation sending shockwaves of desire through her body. "Please."

Alma put down her fork and cleared her throat, deciding it was time to broach the subject that had been weighing on her mind since this morning. "I... I'm sorry for earlier," she began hesitantly, her cheeks flushing red in shame. "It wasn't... I shouldn't have done that." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't know what came over me. It was just a reflex."

Alma visibly relaxed at your words. "Really?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I don't want to hurt you." Her gaze dropped to the plate in front of her as she fiddled with a loose string on her shirt. "Or anyone else for that matter," she added almost as an afterthought.

She glanced up at you again, searching your face for any hint of how you felt about what had happened. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

Her eyes fluttered open, the warmth of the sunlight streaming through the window momentarily disorienting her. As she blinked several times to adjust, she took in her surroundings and realized where she was - back in your bed, safe and sound. The memory of their conversation earlier flooded back into her mind, and a pang of guilt struck her chest.

She sat up quickly, wincing as her muscles protested the sudden movement.

"Good afternoon," she replied softly, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Sorry for sleeping so late." As she glanced around, she noticed a tray on the bedside table holding a steaming plate of food. Her stomach growled in response, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"What time is it?" she asked, reaching for the nearby water glass to take a sip.

The warmth of your skin beneath her fingertips was reassuring, grounding her in the moment. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the trust that had begun to blossom between them. As she felt the steady rhythm of your breathing slow and deepen, a sense of peace washed over her like a cool breeze on a sweltering summer day.

The darkness still lurked in the corners of her mind, but for now, it could wait.

Her eyes drifted shut, and she let out a contented sigh. The softness of your skin beneath her fingers was oddly soothing, almost hypnotic in its effect. As sleep finally claimed her once more, she found herself grateful for the respite it offered; from the nightmares, from the memories, and from the burdens that she had carried alone for far too long.

She felt herself floating on a sea of sensations, every touch from your hands sending shivers down her spine. You seemed to know exactly where to touch her, where to stroke, where to tease until she was trembling beneath your fingers. Each brush of your skin against hers left her aching for more, hungry for anything you would give her.

And so she lay there, spread before you like an offering, letting you do whatever you wished with her body.

Her breath caught in her throat as you began to lavish attention on each of her scars, tracing them with your tongue, worshipping every imperfection on her flesh. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, not from pain this time, but from the overwhelming emotion of being touched so tenderly, so lovingly.

Your hands continued their exploration of her body, mapping out every curve and hollow, committing them to memory as if they were precious artifacts. And in doing so, you made Alma feel beautiful, desired, cherished... loved.

---

"Okay, sounds good. Hope no one minds us being so quiet..." Alma trails off, looking down at her hands as she fidgets slightly with her bag strap.

"I-I think they'll understand." Alma says quietly, still unable to meet your gaze. "I mean, I get it... I can be a bit rough around the edges sometimes." She pauses for a moment before mustering up a weak smile. "But I'm trying... to be better."

Her voice trails off as she continues to study the menu, searching for something that catches her eye. The silence stretches between them, leaving an uncomfortable air hanging in the air.