Chapter 12
S O R E N
J ane’s heart flickers around in that chest, small emotions creeping through only to be suffocated like they shouldn’t have escaped.
Lies .
She’s covering something up.
“You heard of the Basilisk?” I ask.
“Donna mentioned him.” Her reply is fast, and her stare waivers.
“And what about ?” I want to grab the back of her hair so badly so I can stare into those hazel eyes and find the truth—I can read someone the best when their heartbeat is nearly right next to mine.
I don’t like, in any capacity, that Jane is hiding something from me. Not now. If I’m to fight even the thinnest sliver of a shadow that gets near her, I need to know everything .
She can’t stop looking out at the room, sometimes even adjusting her position as if it matters. She’s never had to worry about appearance before. From what we’ve talked about, it sounds like she’s always had to hide her identity, even as a child, not embrace it.
That discomfort doesn’t help with getting to her truth.
“Well, Donna said that the Basilisk is rumored to be in the Crimson Isles, but I guess it’s a skin shifter, and he’s here , in Skull’s Row.”
Well, it seems like Ritter has good intel. That’s not enough, though. Why does it feel like Jane has something else to share, like that secretive truth is hiding behind the Basilisk?
She tuts slightly, leaning in. “So what do you mean he was your mentor ?”
“He’s ten years my senior and was in Death’s Wing when I joined. He literally trained me in all I know, especially given he’s a Sensor . I guess we’re called that now.”
Her gaze stares intently at mine, as if she’s trying to summon every ounce of will to try and read me like I read her. “I don’t—but Donna spoke of him like it’s a bad thing. Do the others know?”
“I don’t believe they do, but it’s also not a secret. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years, so whatever he’s doing now is not related to me.”
I had heard he was here, but have no fucking idea as to why. Seeing him away from his lands is enough to make one’s mind spin; he never leaves. Not anymore. “I think it’s time we get some privacy,” I suggest, even though it’s more of an order.
“Where? Even if you can move, I don’t even know where to go.”
“You have a room here. Not that you’ll be there long with how fast things are operating, but we have a lot to discuss. And I’m growing tired of these prattling idiots.” I glare at those around that are starting to get too obvious in their nosy fucking ways.
There’s such a wave of relief within Jane at the suggestion of us getting privacy that I don’t care what she has to say; I’m done lying here now that the dust is settling.
Rising to my feet is already easier than earlier, my movements having been reduced to an unsteady mess. My shallow, uneven breathing is composed now. So far, one of my absolute favorite perks of being high-ranking, or surrounded by those with the damn titles I loathe, is they do come with access to many necessities.
We’ll need it.
When I’m on my feet, the rowdiness ebbs like a receding tide, many hands drifting instinctually to their weapon. Rorge—sitting in a chair—doesn’t move at first, lifting only his gaze to examine the disruption. He might be old, but his clearcut stare tells me he’s far from useless. His loud cough disrupts the silence, clearing his throat as he stands and nears me, running a hand over his wiry beard. “Why’re you standing?”
“Jane would like to retire to her room.”
Jane pops up at being mentioned, about to protest just on the sheer principle of being spoken for, but I can tell she’s also curious. Tired, even? “Yes, I would like to go to my room now,” she says, looking up at me.
Rorge sucks his lips to his teeth, taking me in before he gives a languid blink and nods to follow him. As soon as I step forward, Rorge peers over his shoulder. “Only her.”
“I’m going with her. Everywhere ,” I reply, speaking for Ritter, since he spoke for me. “And that’s non-negotiable. Ask your boss if you’re worried.”
Rorge’s dry lips part, and I can tell he’s uncertain if I mean what I said or not. His weathered face, marked by years of harsh living, deadpans as he narrows his one good eye while the other, veined and milky, stares right at me as if he can see my aura. I’ve witnessed enough in this world to know that, to one end or another, he can read me somehow.
Fascinating .
“Alright,” he grumbles, turning around as if that’s all he needed for permission.
Jane watches us as if every minute detail will be important later.
Even if I know my ego isn’t relevant here, that bastard inflates when the energy of the room is now keened on me , and I swear some of them are considering the skull mask.
They’ve been stuck down here for too long.
Rorge takes us through more of the same stony corridors, the rubies and their reddish cast, something I accept now.
The thick wooden door that Rorge nears is studded with iron, the knob creaking as the door opens. There’s warm light from many candles and a burning hearth pooling across the room. Two chairs and a table are placed next to the fire, a bed with fur and wool blankets resting underneath a singular painting of an ocean at dawn. Weapons are neatly organized with gleaming edges on a table adjacent to a singular chair; medical supplies are spread out, an empty bag hanging limply off the arm.
It’s a sparse, small room, but it has all the necessities.
My heart thuds in my chest as my body begs to recover, like it’s tempted to sleep deeply for three days.
“Your father has arranged the materials you requested, along with weaponry that he recommends you add to your person. There are latrines where I showed you, along with barrels of water you can use to refresh your pitcher.”
Jane hardly looks my way as she nears the medical supplies, grabs a small bottle, one of four, and then looks at me earnestly. Her hazel eyes are fierce and alive, and I can tell how much it means to her to help me in this way.
The longer our energies collide, the more I feel innately protective of her. And it’s then that I know, that without Serena, I’d be saying ‘fuck it’ and throw everything I have to protect Jane just because I want to, just like she wants to take care of me. It’s the same driving force I had before learning about what truly haunts her.
On my own, I crave a deep bond, something only for me to enjoy. Is it truly as simple as love that I seek? Is it that persuasive?
Rorge’s clearing of his throat echoes against the walls. “We will know if you’re in danger, Jane. If he hurts you, or you don’t want him here, we will know. And we’ll remove him.”
The roguish part of Jane eyes Rorge like his words are so foreign it might as well be another language, but the desolate side of her that craves community is just as touched. “Thank you,” she replies, as if she’s uncertain how to reply to such a statement. “Also, we need food. I don’t need much, but Soren will need red meat, preferably a liver pie. Maybe some pickled eggs. And a bone broth stew, if you have it.”
“Can do, ma’am.”
That’s right, my desert rose. Her taking care of me, even if the exchange is mundane, is such a subtle gesture that stirs something deep within me. I don’t think I have much control over it anymore.
When the door shuts, and it’s just our energies moving through the room—a sensation I’m quite addicted to—I sit in a rather unsteady chair near the fire, the warmth gently radiating to my left as I watch Jane to my right. She’s going through all the medical supplies.
With how much she enjoys purpose, it’s astonishing she survived that village for so long.
“Why did he call me ma’am?” she asks, holding up some roots to look at them near a candle. “I don’t think anyone’s called me ma’am.”
“You’re the daughter of his leader,” I reply, closing my eyes momentarily to deeply breathe and center myself. “Plus, those milky-eye bastards are high in rank, which means showing respect to you means more to them than the others.”
“Oh, I found out what they are, by the way. They’re called the Eyeless.”
My eyes flash open, narrowing my gaze on her, lifting my head forward. “What the hells did you do while in that room? You seemed to have learned quite a bit.”
Her face deadpans, placing the root back on the table and moving it around in a nervous fidget. The smallest flutter of a truth is drowned out by other thoughts, my powers smothering her so greatly I can tell she’s pushing them down on purpose. Did someone assault her? But her energy doesn’t feel like assault.
My heart reluctantly races, even if it’s exhausted.
“Donna talked to me for a bit,” she quietly answers, picking up something else and focusing so hard on it; it’s clear she’s trying to prevent anything else from entering her mind.
“ Jane ,” I say, the sound almost harsh. “What else happened?” There’s a stutter in her energy, her back still to me, and a piece of the truth is exposed for too long, confirming that she is hiding something, and it’s dark. Damning . “Did someone do something to you?”
I’m about to stand when she releases a deep exhale. “No, I’m fine. Nothing bad happened at all—I… I need time to figure out what all I’m learning.”
“ Jane .” I finally rise to my feet.
She turns around. “It’s alright. Really.”
“You might have your secrets, but if you ever hide if someone hurt you, I will strip your energy bare until I find out what happened, and I promise, you won’t like that process.”
The statement takes her so aback, and also brushes against something very neglected that it has an effect that leaves her speechless.
But I mean it.
The shit with Shade hasn’t fully settled on me yet, and I cannot handle the idea of something happening to her and her hiding it.
It’s what Serena did, and then she was gone.
“It’s alright, Soren,” she says gently, turning to face me. “Really. I spoke with someone else, but it’s a lot about my family, and my history, and I just… I need to process the allegations.”
I swear to all the gods there’s a flash of red in my mind’s vision, followed by dark, black eyes, and it’s more clear than ever she’s speaking of Cypress. “Jane, I can’t help you if there’s any detail hidden from me.”
The pleading in her eyes, along with the way I feel she wants to give me everything , contradicts that it’s nothing . The more our energies meld in the space, I can’t deny that the rubies have to be powering my senses, one way or another.
I absolutely hate how witches can obscure everything I rely on for clarity.
“I know you can read me, so I know there’s no point in lying. But I… it’s too soon. I really do have to sit on what was told to me.”
“This is what happened to my sister,” I say, raking a hand through my hair and looking to the side. I hesitate, but when those words strike through her like her armor is made of silk, I add, “If I had known that the man who took her had spoken to her the day before, and told her he was there as a merchant, and that there was a lord traveling with him, I could have told her he’s full of shit, and all he had in his cart was a bunch of coal.”
Jane’s gaze roams the floor, her face puzzled as she ever so slowly approaches me. “Wait, why a lord?”
My eyes roll, pressing my lips together as I glance at the crackling fire, hating the way it feels to speak of this to anyone . “Serena thought those in Belstead were interesting.” The heaviness in my heart gains an unexpected lightness as the corner of my lips tugs upward. “She’s a gentler soul. Not made for Skull’s Row, or any of us. It’s why—It’s why I can’t handle the idea of awful things happening to her, other than she’s my sister. Out of everyone, it would break her the most.”
There’s the expected pity from Jane, the kind that I loathed for so long. Someone’s pity changes nothing. But then there’s a determination in Jane that mirrors what she feels when thinking of Kathleen. “Then I’ll help you find her. When this is all done, obviously.”
I glance over to see she’s right next to me, and I’m eye level with her navel, her loose tunic partially tucked into her leather pants. There are ripples in the energy of this room that surrounds her, perhaps even emanating from her, almost as if through each one, I can see a different future; it’s a novel effect that takes me off-guard. One of those paths removes this woman from my life, nearly guaranteeing my survival—something tells me the Scorpion won’t wander far from Jane and will die protecting her, despite his threats.
Through another ripple presents an obscure future where I place all bets on Jane, and give her every inch of my commitment—it’s warm, inviting. Almost familiar, even, like it will fill in all the cracks of my soul. And yet there’s a risk, a massive one. As if to choose her means my death.
Death doesn’t mean shit to me if I get to live .
I can no longer just take Jane and find my sister. No, I have to choose . Surrendering myself to Jane means accepting I may never live to save my sister. As my gaze takes in the details of her belt and the slightly bent frame, I think of the smooth skin underneath her raggedy clothes.
Maybe it’s because I’m drained, but I can’t fight the way she gets to me right now. The way a deeper, lonely side of me is desperate to release everything I’ve lived for since my sister disappeared and wants to take pride in dying for something tangible .
No matter which path I choose, there will be regret. Misery and his cunts have ensured that. I know better than to hope I’ll live; I either will, or I won’t, but planning beyond that is reckless. At least, it is for someone like me that knows I can’ just fucking hope I live for Serena.
Jane is patient as I wade through this overwhelming experience before asking, “What’s wrong? Did you learn something else?”
Her voice is velvet against the coarseness of my life. As I deeply inhale, I touch the outside of her thigh, right where a hilt for a blade is tied around her. My Jane would survive being taken and would thrive under the pressure of revenge.
My sigh is heavy as I consider what I’m about to say, and so is my heart. “I want you to make me a deal.”
The energy within her stirs uncomfortably. “I want to hear it first.”
My smile stretches without thought, raising a hand to touch her hip, running my thumb along the fastenings of her holster. “If I don’t survive what’s coming, will you vow to find my sister for me?”
The calm drive that fueled her shifts to a familiar anxiety. “Why? What have you learned? You can’t die. Why would you even suggest that?”
I grip her hip and finally look up at her, her concerned gaze roaming all over my face. “Love, what’s haunting you is not something one army can fight. I don’t even know what a plan would look like. All I do know is that what your father says sounds true to me, and to destroy this asshole named Misery, it will be a war.” I tilt my head. “Which means dying. Quite a few will, I’m sure of it. And I don’t trust Cypress to keep my heart beating by the end of this, but I do believe she intends to ensure yours does. You have to agree that if I can’t help my sister, you’ll find her and let her know I never stopped looking.”
It’s the only compromise I can think of. I get to throw everything I have at Jane without reservation, and someone will search for my sister when this is done.
And for a small moment of my life, I get to enjoy something that’s only for me.
Sorrow and dread wash over her, just like when she saw me bleeding back in the bakery. And then a wave of guilt washes through her so fiercely it nearly removes all other sentiments, and I’m not sure where it comes from. “Then,” she says, looking around, breathing heavily. “Then go. Don’t be a part of this. Don’t risk yourself to that degree.”
Retraction . I don’t blame her. The destruction that will follow her is quite terrifying.
“I trust you to find a way to follow through if I can’t, and you could maybe even relate to her, about losing a part of your life.”
There it is—the energy that has fueled her life blooms, just ever so more, in the name of my life’s purpose. When it’s clear I’m not letting go of her as I grip her hip tighter, she gives a quick huff.
She doesn’t move.
If anything, her body stiffens, and all the warmth that was right here rescinds. She turns her head as if she wants to look away, but it gets stuck as she can’t take her eyes off of me, like too many questions hit her at once. “It kills me you’re stuck in this because of me, even if I’m stuck in it too. You shouldn’t be worrying about your actual death over me.”
Now my guilt mounts slightly more, knowing that even if I hated her, I’m tied to her with Cypress. But I don’t want to tell her, because at the same time, the guilt doesn’t destroy me. It’s all to protect the heart of my desert rose, and so she doesn’t have to question my motives.
“ It is what it is, Jane. I imagine Cypress has worked endlessly to get our paths to cross, because I bet she knew once I touched you, you’d have your father and me willing to do what’s necessary to prevent them from having you.”
Her heart returns to me, even if cautiously. “Stop saying you’re going to die,” she mumbles.
“Agree to the deal.”
So much comes my way that I swear I can nearly hear her voice in my mind, and it takes me aback. In such a swift wave, one where she’s saddened by something I don’t have access to, overpowered by her just wanting this to all to be left behind.
I lick my lips before saying, “Whatever you’re hiding, you have three days before I’ll demand it from you.” She looks at me like I invaded more than she expected. “In the meantime, make this deal with me so I can let go of it and know that Serena will one day be told I didn’t forget her.”
It works.
She has a desire to fight for this that will be as strong as her own, and I really do trust Jane can figure this out.
“What do you want out of this, Soren? Out of you and me?”
It’s something she’s longed to ask, but didn’t want the possible disappointment that men like me are so prone to delivering. My hand moves to her navel, sliding my fingers under her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin. I can nearly physically feel the affection she harbors right in my palm. “What I want? All my men have someone to think about when they die. I’d like that for myself.”
More than ever, the sliver of transparency into her true heart opens, as if she’s allowing herself to give in. A hand of hers raises to my cheek, her other hand mimicking the action—I’m not used to someone touching me like this, not with my face.
Jane usually is only ever physically affectionate after I’ve initiated.
The pressure of her palms moves my face up, and she looks me dead in the eyes. “I already told you, you go and die on me, and I’m bringing you back just to slap you for it. It’s not a part of what’s going to happen.”
I don’t know if it’s the damn tonic I drank earlier, Cypress’s rubies making me fall for her more, or if this is just how this shit works, but my body is alive with something new. “We can’t control our death, love. But we can control how we live.”
“I just—I can’t lose anyone else.”
“Then you’ll never gain anyone, either.”
Her eyes vibrate back and forth so much it’s as if she isn’t even looking at me. I raise a hand and grab one of hers, pulling it from my face to my lips to gently kiss her slightly cold fingers. There’s so much desire emitting from her, so much joy at something so gentle.
The sensation of being able to explore every minute change of her heart is impossible to put a price on; I’m the foundation she can lay her new identity with, and she’s embracing it at this very moment.
I need this validation, too.
I need to not just feel adoration, but to be loved.
Pulling her down, I press my lips into hers, a warm puff of air escaping her nose. Jane’s weight slowly shifts to leaning into me, and I already know how to make her body sing. Wrapping my arm around her waist, her bones nearly melt at my strength, so weak to being small with me. I pull her other leg around so she’s forced to sit in my lap. I fucking love how powerful that makes me feel, her warm lips moving with mine, teeth slightly clashing as my tongue dips deep into her mouth, a moan spilling from her throat. Each second that passes, her heart is ripped more open than before. It’s maddeningly addicting to kiss a woman that means so much to me.
Being low on blood doesn’t seem to matter as my cock has no issues hardening, pressing against my pants. My hands glide down to Jane’s hips, digging my fingers into her body to drop her further into my lap, her pussy right over where it belongs. Her moan vibrates into my mouth, and my eyes part to see hers slightly rolling behind partially closed lids. “I have an idea,” she moans into the kiss. Something mischievous crosses her gaze, those pupils blown. “You need to take it easy.”
When she tries to wriggle away, my first instinct is to tighten my grip until a wave of her energy makes it seem like she wants to choke on my cock. I let her loose almost as soon as I understand, groaning deeply as my legs spread while her fingers work at the lacing of my pants. I grab her hand, and when our gazes meet, I can feel how whatever expression I have makes her unwind.
“I want it all removed. Your clothes,” I instruct, looking over her body.
She gives a wolfish grin, biting her bottom lip as she pulls off her shirt, auburn hair rippling back down; her nipples are hard, and her flesh is so perfectly supple. I undo my pants and belt, taking in every inch of a body that bends so easily for me. She’s just as swift to remove her shoes and pants, purposely turning to the side as she bends over to reach her ankles, her pink pussy on full display. “This better?” she purrs.
“You have no idea,” I say, hearing my voice drop an octave, wanting to slide my cock in between that perfect slit that I know is warm, wet, and ready to clench down hard on me.
I nearly growl when she turns around, although Jane is on her knees before I can pick her up and pin her against the wall, taking in my cock with those pretty lips, looking up at me.
Fucking hells .
One of my hands glides through her hair, watching my cock disappear into her mouth, over and over, the warmth of it making my eyes roll. Her jaw drops to accommodate more as I brush against the back of her throat. Her hands grip both my legs to steady herself, and my labored breathing morphs into slow groans, momentarily wishing I was in the Commons so they could all see who this woman strips so easily for, and whose cock hollows out her cheeks.
Whose cum will be sliding down her throat.
“You are gorgeous between my thighs.” I grip her hair and hold her there, Jane nearly gagging, getting a high off of the way her vulnerability is at its peak. I rock my hips slightly so she can get air into her lungs. Her tongue flicks back and forth, and I grunt. “You want my cum, Jane?”
She moans into the flesh that nearly chokes her, and I grip her hair tighter with another partial roll of my eyes. “Such a good fucking girl. After this, I’m going to bring you close to the edge before stopping. Then bring you closer once more, and stop just before. Then, I’ll make you collapse.”
It’s when her eyes roll at that notion that I grunt, breathing raggedly, baring my teeth. “And you’ll fucking swallow every drop of me,” I grind out, pivoting the wrist of my free hand so my palm grips the front of her neck. “And I want to feel it.”
I come as soon as I feel her neck muscles swallow her own saliva, her warm mouth remaining wrapped around me, draining me down her throat, swallowing happily as I feel those muscles drink every drop in her mouth.
That clarity after emptying one’s balls is like nothing else, the hair in my hand suddenly feeling soft, belonging to a woman I don’t just want to claim physically, but I want her heart . Sliding my hand up along her chin before moving it back to my side, the other loosens its grip on her hair. She wipes at her lips, the fire glinting against them.
This clarity also means I can read her without my horny ass getting ahead of itself. She’s so ready and open for me, but once again, she doesn’t want to initiate.
One day, she will.
For now, I’ll enjoy guiding her. She’s trusting me to take care of that desire, to edge right at the precipice before it’s too much.
“On the bed. On your back,” I say, standing.
Jane smiles as she stands, strutting over in a sway of her perfect ass, sliding into the fur and elegantly rolling to her back.
She’s so queenly in her movements when she’s completely confident, as if she knows I won’t disappoint her here.
I ensure all my clothes are removed, not saying another word as I place a knee on the bed, hooking an arm underneath the small of her back, gripping her inner thigh with my other hand topush her wide open, dipping down to lick her wet pussy, my tongue sliding right where my cock will stretch her later, up to her clit, tasting the mess that was made all because she sucked me off.
That clarity is fucking fading already.
I want her cunt filled with my cum, for her to smell of sex. She gasps when I suck , her hands now moving all over, from her face, to my hair, to my arm.
Fucking her endlessly in Rosmertta’s was deliciously carnal, a release we both needed. But I can feel so much built-up emotion inside of her that mixes with her rising orgasm, and frankly, it melds with my own heart.
It’s different to do this with someone’s body that you know, their pleasure so much more than a flare of ego.
It crosses my mind to get one answer out of her in this position, as she seems to hear me best when like this. I pause when I can feel her reaching her edge, as if her body emanates euphoria.
She whimpers when she realizes I’ve stopped.
“I can tell you’re hiding something very large from me, Jane,” I say, admiring her perfect cunt while I feel her energy shift.
She even grunts, looking down with disappointment when I flick my gaze up. I grip her and push her thigh open even further as she tries to see what physical leverage she might have, but that disappears almost instantly.
She can’t move, her legs spread, and her body so utterly exposed.
“That’s not what I want to hear right now,” she says.
“I told you, I’m going to bring you to the edge, multiple times before you’re allowed to collapse. I mean it when I say you have three days to keep this information to yourself.” I raise my head back further. “No more.”
She loves it, even if she hates it. She pushes that uncomfortable appreciation toward me, telling me in every way but with her own mouth that she is keeping something, and she might not even want to.
I can tell that ripping the truth from her is more comforting of a notion than not. My hand from her inner thigh slides down, two fingers slipping right inside of her smooth heat as she gasps and leans her head back. I pump in and out, the muscles of my forearms flexing as I give her one languid lick over her clit. “Don’t think I’m done asking.”
“We can’t just fuck normally, can we?” she breathes out.
I smile into her pussy, breathing her in. “One day, we’ll make love without any barriers, beautiful. Until then, it’s not my fault this is the best way to get you to confess things.”
I suck harder, pumping more. This impending orgasm is stronger than earlier, her body more desperate. Her hand clings to my arm, her other on her stomach. Her thighs stiffen, some of Jane’s breathing hitching as she tries to fall into that rhythm that will bring her to climax. I risk it when I suck as long as possible, right before pulling my fingers out and backing off her, so not even the brush of my breath can stimulate her.
“Oh, you asshole ,” she groans, looking down at me. “Keep going. We can talk later.”
“I want to know who was in that room.” I look at her with a gaze that has worked very well on her so far, doing everything I can to drive home that this is not something I take lightly.
“You know,” she leans up on her elbows. “If this is how you interrogate, I can see why they always send you.” Then her eyes flare, and I grin as I feel what she’s thinking before she adds, “If you touch another woman for an interrogation, even slightly, I’ll–”
“Send me her head before cutting off my cock. I’m aware, darling.”
Her tightened expression loosens into almost a laugh, and there’s even an emotion that takes her by surprise, as if she finds that confusingly endearing. My gaze falls down her body, staring for a moment at the black skull tattoo on her chest, to her pussy that makes me groan just looking at it.
I slowly slide two fingers back in, imagining it’s my cock that’s already hardening again before glaring back up at her. “Who was it, Jane? You will tell me that, at the very least.”
“Why?” she pants with upturned brows. “I can’t say it.”
Oh, that pisses me off. And her expression flashes with surprise as she no doubt realizes that was the wrong thing to tell me. “If you want to hide things from your lover, then I’m the wrong one. Not when your safety is concerned.”
I graze her clit with my thumb, pulling gently upward with my two fingers to massage the spot that makes her completely fall apart, her arms nearly giving out at the sudden rush of pleasure.
She lays flat once more into the fur. “Cypress,” she quietly confesses. “She came to visit me.”
My growl lacks any sensuality.
Nonetheless, I lean down and kiss her right where all nerves come to life. “Good girl, Jane.”
My cock remains rock hard even if I’m pissed, and I swear I can fucking come one more time. Shit, I don’t even care about coming, I just want to be buried inside of her. To further make the point that she should open up to me, and that I can make her feel safe, to dig it deep into her mind that I’m someone she can fall apart to, and I know being wrapped against my body is where she feels that the most.
I’ll deal with the Cypress shit later.
I gently lick her clit as my fingers work, her body flooding with ecstasy as I’m sensing she’s nearly throbbing. It’s such a high that my dick is perfectly ready to go again, and I will , once she comes for me. Her muscles clench my fingers, trying to grab ahold of that pleasure that I might take away again. Jane arches her back as she holds her breath. I can’t get enough of watching her face as it contorts with impatience, until it all washes over her, a loud moan escaping her, her pussy pulsating on my fingers.
I smile.
She squirms as I gently continue, and I find it so fucking sexy when she does. I back off when I can’t take it anymore and wipe my face with my hand, only to position myself over her, spreading her legs and shoving my cock into her perfect warmth as my eyes roll, my hands digging into her thighs.
She moans deeply.
I look down and watch as her pussy stretches to fit me, our flesh interlocking. I slowly rock my hips as I lift my gaze to stare into her eyes, her hair spread all over the pillow, her cheeks flushed.
I lean over and kiss her, slowly fucking her as our bodies intertwine, one of my arms bracing me so I don’t crush her. I enjoy pushing as deep as she’ll take me, kissing her gently as our noses brush against each other. Jane wraps her arms around me, one hand settling on the back of my neck. I’m not sure how much time passes until I’m spilling into her, coming with our mouths pressed against each other.
Those romantic words that she craves settle so easily on my tongue, but not yet. It’s not the right time.
Our hearts speak through the physical, not with what spills from our lips.
As we lie there, our beating hearts slow as we enter this peaceful aftermath that has grown more special to me than I expected. She looks like she’s about to say something.
Our gazes connect, so close that I can see the tiniest variations of colors in her irises, streaks of green mingling with the bronze.
“Whenever this is all done,” she says, her fingers gently scratching the nape of my scalp. “I’ll do everything I can to find your sister. I promise that.” My eyes widen. “And I won’t leave her until she’s safe.”
My brows furrow, those words striking at such a vulnerable part of me I’m completely unprepared to handle it.
I’ve become so skilled at many things, but this isn’t one of them. So, instead, I search her heart for what she wants to hear, and it’s effortless for me to reply, “Then you have all of me.”