Chapter 15 #2
“Were you crying and talking to your husband in the shower?” he asks, already knowing about my ritual. I can sense a smile forming beneath the mask without seeing it, because I see it in his eyes. There’s no judgment there either.
“A little,” I reply, contemplating it for a moment longer.
“Do you feel better?”
“Yeah.”
“Dream world or a nightmare?” he asks as part of our ongoing game.
“I don’t know which one is worse, but at least in the dream world, I get to see him.”
“Maybe you get to see him in both. Do I get to see your new sketch?” He lowers his voice like he does whenever he asks for something personal.
“When I finish it, you will,” I smirk. “On another note, I think I’m ready to say goodbye. I have to. I can’t change what happened, but I need to move on.”
Jason freezes in place. The beer bottle in his hand falls to the floor and shatters spectacularly. I don’t move, thinking he saw something that would scare me shitless. I refuse to turn around, too. I may have killed a guy, but snakes still scare me to death.
My eyes shift from left to right, begging him to say something.
“Is it big?” I whisper to the radio.
Blinking back to reality, he asks, “What?”
“That thing that you see behind me.”
He clears his throat. “There’s nothing behind you.”
I exhale a loud breath. “You scared me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” His disoriented expression puzzles me as well.
“It’s okay. You promised to help me find a way underground once I’m ready…” I’ve searched everywhere I could, and right now, I am struggling to remove the large fridge in the basement. It feels like it’s bolted to the wall, so it’s a work in progress.
“Right...” Jason makes a U-turn and walks inside without saying another word. He disappears for a moment before returning with a dustpan and broom to sweep up the mess.
“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” I ask, watching him work quickly and dispose of the glass in a plastic bag.
We use the underground bin in the basement for our garbage.
I wonder if it leads to the underground prison, but there’s no way I’m going down there.
If I can find it, I’d rather take the ocean entrance once it turns liquid.
“You didn’t. I’m fine.” His voice is rough. “I need to take a shower. It’s your watch.”
My eyes narrow as I watch him step inside and look around; in a split second, he throws the bag in his hand across the room.
What is that about? It’s like my words sent him into a frenetic trance. The hand in his hair pulls as he kicks the nightstand and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
I’ve never seen him behave that way. Even when he killed a man, he stayed calm and composed. Usually, his body language doesn’t reveal much about his inner emotions.
I throw myself onto the couch and grab the book from the table. I don’t know who put all these books here, but they clearly know my taste, which is both weird and funny.
I’m almost finished, and this basic routine makes me want to pluck my eyeballs out. There’s nothing to do here except work out, shoot outside, and read. Talking with Jason helps pass the time, but I fear I will go insane by the end of the year unless I find a way out.
I open the book where I left off and set aside one of the crazy notes I used as a bookmark. I quickly flip through the pages, and before I realize it, I turn the last one, and something drops into my lap.
What’s that?
My brows knit together as I lift a torn piece of paper that seems to have been ripped from the last page. Scribbled words are scrawled across it in black ink.
Sweet Death, I’m coming to collect my reward.
My eyes follow the movement of the ink, recognizing the way it flows on the paper, like the note that came with the lungs. It has nothing to do with the other cryptic messages, yet it suggests that more than one person leaves them for me.
Maybe it was here before I even entered the tower, unlike the others I found outside and in my attacker’s pocket.
I place the book on the table with the note and pull my vibrator out of the bag I left on top of it.
I need some stress relief.
Jason is still in the shower, so I slowly drag the zipper down and let my hand ease inside the suit.
I squeeze my taut nipple hard until a soft moan escapes me, and toss my head back.
Yeees.
My clit pulsates as I toy with them more.
There’s something liberating about doing it in the cold and having someone accidentally watch me. The thrill of having an audience excites me more than I expected.
I palm my breast, pretending it’s someone else’s large hand.
I close my eyes and see Reeve pulling my hair and biting the pulse in my neck viciously, attacking the sensitive spot like he always did.
I bury my teeth into my bottom lip.
His long fingers trail along my throat and collarbone, down to the valley of my breasts, where he bends to plant a wet kiss.
My fingers brush my belly.
He doesn’t give in easily, withholding what I desire most.
Our lips collide, tongues dancing with each other. It’s pure ecstasy. He pulls the strings, and my body responds beneath his touch.
I draw circles above my clit.
His hands are like weapons against my skin, grazing, corrupting, and burning into my memory. His touch is rough, yet it feels like a souvenir my body yearns for.
He owns every inch.
“Reeve,” I moan softly.
He teases my heated body, sending goosebumps over my skin as he drags his tongue across my lips and down to my navel in a straight line.
Easing my fingers under the waistband of my underwear, I rub my wet clit, letting the pleasant sensation wash over me.
A grin spreads across my face.
“Keep going.”
I startle. My eyes snap open to see Jason standing over the railings, shirtless and clutching the top rail for dear life.
“Use me, Winona. Use my voice.”
Swallowing my shock, I stare at him, but my fingers rub my clit faster.
I grab the radio from the table. “I only hear my husband when you speak, and that’s who I see right now when I touch myself.”
“Pretend I’m him then.”
“Do you really want me to do that?”
“Yes.”
The certainty resonates in his voice, both challenging and bewitching. I soak it in and say, “Okay.”
“Lie back.”
I do as he instructs and place the radio back on the table.
“You didn’t stop touching yourself, did you?” he growls, and my cheeks flush sheepishly. “Rub your little clit harder.”
I press the heel of my palm against it and massage myself.
“Drag your finger down your slit and collect your arousal for me.”
I steal another glance, catching his stalking gaze as it tracks down my body and back up.
“Good girl. Move those fingers. Pleasure yourself as if they were my fingers rubbing against your pussy. Moan for me.”
It’s like he knows what my body needs, how it functions, and how to make me crave more.
The tingling sensation spreads throughout my entire body, reaching my fingertips and toes.
My body craves more stimulation.
“Lose yourself. Let go.”
I rock my hips, finding my rhythm.
“I would die to touch you right now, wrap my hand around your neck, and use my fingers to make you come. You like that, don’t you?”
I tilt my chin up and down, moaning as I imagine it.
I imagine the heat of his skin against my neck, tending to my inner scars. It ignites my soul and strengthens my bones. His firm hands dominate my body, gently calming and silencing the chaos in my mind.
I draw in a hasty breath as I shove two fingers inside my mouth while my vibrator enters me slowly.
“Just like that, thrust your vibrator in and out of you. Pretend it’s me. You’ll be a good girl and come for me, but not until I say so.”
It’s Reeve’s voice.
“Mmhmm.”
“Hold it inside you, Winona,” he demands as vibrations start pulsing against my walls.
I turn my head to look at the remote in his hand.
He took it.
I thought I had left it back home.
The pressure builds as I push it deeper, inch after glorious inch.
“Ahh,” I shudder.
It feels so... good.
He toys with the patterns and pacing of the device, alternating between slow and fast. I convulse around the slow pulses of the vibrator, enjoying the small bursts of pleasure surging through me.
“You’re doing so well,” Jason praises. “Nod, if you like it,” he says in a gentle tone.
The world around me dims as I ascend to a higher state of bliss. His voice is the only thing guiding me through the darkness. I writhe, losing control as he continues to speak words that make my body quiver.
“You can take it.” He increases the pace of the device.
“Ahh,” I whimper, on the cusp of an orgasm.
“Let me fuck you from here like that and watch you come undone, Winona. I’m always the voice in your head, aren’t I? Well, here I am.”
This is wild. I can’t.
Oh my god.
I can’t.
Reeve. I shake my head from side to side, fighting myself and my traitorous body.
“You’re not allowed to come yet. I want you to be a pathetic little mess with the orgasm I gave you between your legs. So, keep pretending I’m touching that deepest part of you.”
I roll my hips in circles, getting the vibrator deeper and deeper.
“You know I would kiss your pussy and let my piercings ruin it until you shake and moan, completely out of control, coming so hard on my cock.”
I crack my eyes open and watch the empty balcony on the other side.
Where did he go?
My swollen clit feels like it’s about to detonate, but I can’t without him.
The minutes tick away.
My head is spinning.
My clit is half numb as he pushes the intensity to the highest level.
“You better not come.” His voice echoes from the radio, but he hasn’t come back. “You take what I give you until you’re ready.”
Where is he?
I whimper, clutching my hand tightly around the vibrator as my walls squeeze it.
I can’t take it anymore.
This edging is fucking painful at this point.
“I wish you could look at yourself right now. You’re so beautiful. Even when you struggle.”
He eases the pace slightly, allowing it to flick me gently. The vibrations create a wave of goosebumps across my skin.