Is It A Dream?

Feigned Feelings Usually End Up Badly

Linda kissed Danny's neck while rubbing his chest. She was going to make it as far as she could- which hopefully would be through the very end.
Danny slowly reached up to caress Linda's hair, waiting for her to pull away. But when she responded with a moan, he ran his fingers through her hair.
Linda put her free hand on Danny's knee, hoping to have it migrate north. Her lips moved to his collarbone, sucking on the flesh. She felt the cold air prick her skin, making her jump back.
"Sorry, sorry," Danny apologized, fixing her shirt. "You can keep that on.... I'll just... I'll sit on my hands, okay?"
Linda grabbed his wrists, looking him straight in the eye. She brought his hands to the hem of her shirt, and smiled slowly. "Yeah. Go ahead."
Danny returned her smile and pulled her sweater over her head. He tossed it to the floor, then laid his hands on her hips.
"It's your turn."
"What?"
"Your turn. You take over now. Then I will. That's how it usually is, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"But what?"
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't, I promise. Come on, please?" She pouted, "I think I really need this."
"Fine. But tell me-"
"When you hurt me, I know. I'll say something... but I know you won't hurt me." Linda feigned confidence, when, inside, part of her was screaming, 'are you out of your gourd?! No!!'
Danny leaned closer and kissed her, caressing her cheek. He slowly ran his hand up and down her back, barely touching her.
Linda whimpered as her husband's slow hand movements sent tingles and chills through her body. She tilted her head back when Danny's lips descended to her neck. She was mentally preparing herself while Danny's hand got closer to the band of her bra, okay, Linda. He's gonna take the bra off, but it's okay, cause he's your husband. No shying away. He loves you more than anything in the world and he'd never do anything to hurt you. Linda closed her eyes tightly as Danny's finger slipped between the fabric and her skin. He hesitated, as if waiting for her to give him the go-ahead. "Do it." She barely whispered.
Danny smiled and, with a flick of the wrist, unhooked the prohibiting piece of fabric. He slid the straps down and off her arms.  He pulled back to look at his wife, but she immediately crossed her arms over her exposed skin. "Do you wanna stop?"
"No."
"Will you uncross you're arms please?" Danny waited, but Linda still gave him a wary look. "I promise I'll think you're beautiful, no matter what you think or what they did."
Linda closed her eyes and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. She bit her lip as Danny stared.
The detective frowned very slightly. His wife's breasts pretty much looked the same, but there was something different. He'd stare until he figured it out.
Oh, gosh. He thinks I'm ugly and-and beaten and.... the other word I can't think of.
Danny finally saw it, he figured it out. He raised his hand and traced over the thin line right above the areola. "Linda... did they cut you?"
Linda nodded and opened her eyes, tears brimming her eyes.
He found another scar in the same place on her other breast. He ran his thumb along it, "other than here, did they cut anywhere else?"
She chewed her lip, nodding and closing her eyes again.
"Where?"
She shook her head as the tears finally fell. She didn't want Danny to see her scarred body, her imperfections.
"Hey, hey. It's okay," he pushed her hair behind her ear. "It's okay. I promise you I won't laugh and get disgusted. "Linda, whatever you think are imperfections, I see them as perfections." He frowned again when she shook her head vigorously. "Please, baby?"
There's that tone. That... almost begging, pleading tone. "You promise not to laugh?"
"Cross my heart."