Page 26

He pulls off my blindfold, and I see his perfect dark eyes, his pouty lips, and a soft, pained expression on his face rather than the hard one I was expecting. His hair falls in soft waves above his dark eyes. He wipes a bit of sweat off my brow and the tear running down my cheek with his thumb.

“Will you tell me what happened to you today? Did you see something?” Did you see him? is what I want to ask.

He kisses me now, strong and hard. “Remember what I told you,” he says, then pulls back, blatantly ignoring my question. “Don’t come, sweetheart, or you’re mine.”

I’m already his, so I’m confused about what exactly he is referring to. He slides his tongue inside my mouth. My body heats in response as he crawls in next to me, grabbing my injured wrist as if just remembering it might hurt.

“Micah, please, answer me,” I say in a meek voice. “Then you can do whatever you want to me.”

A pause, and then he says, “Nothing’s happening to me, London. I just want to do things to you that I haven’t wanted to do to anyone else, and since we are going to die soon, I don’t want to wait any longer. Do you trust me?”

Implicitly.

My voice comes out hushed and slightly broken. “Yeah, I trust you, Micah, with my life. I’m just worried about you.” I shouldn’t trust him—he’s losing his mind. I don’t understand the sudden panic, why he thinks we are going to keel over and die. We still have plenty of food, and spring isn’t that far away.

“Do you want to stay here with me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

Why is he asking me this?

“Then close your eyes, sweetheart. This will feel better if you can’t see what I’m doing.” He puts my blindfold back on but, luckily, doesn’t gag my mouth again.

“Remember what I said. Don’t come, no matter how badly you want to.”

My body tingles, and I try to ignore the already aching pain in my core. Micah’s fingers barely tickle my thighs, and I let out a giggle.

“Quit giggling. This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny,” I breathe.

“I’ll put your gag back on if you don’t take this seriously.”

I suppress my laughter, shifting it to a mischievous grin. “What am I supposed to do?” I ask, wiggling on the bed as he runs his hands up and down my inner thighs and rubs his finger over the tender spot he burned.

“Relax your body and quit kicking so much.”

I hadn’t realized I was kicking, but even his soft tickles are making my body scream.

He runs his tongue along the same line he made with his fingers on my thigh and finally presses one finger inside me.

“Be strong, baby,” he encourages, angling his finger in the way I like before adding another.

I’m so hungry for him that I clench around his fingers. As he presses down on my belly with his other hand, he leans down to kiss me. The motion is just right, and a little tingle runs through me. A tiny orgasm, hardly noticeable.

He pulls his lips from my mouth. “You fucking suck, London.”

I loosen a breath. “I… I didn’t. I swear.”

“I know what your ‘O’ face looks like, baby. You fucking came, don’t lie to me.”

I shift uncomfortably, waiting for him to say something else. The wind picks up outside, along with my breath, and the draft that hits the bed causes goosebumps on my skin and sends a shiver up my spine.

“What are you going to do to me now, Micah?”

He pulls me down and positions his head between my legs before peering up at me through the gap between my thighs. “I’m going to fucking torture you, baby. And when I’m done, I’m going to take your ass.”

He’s going to take my ass?