Chapter 4 #2
Without warning, his lips came down on mine, locking my muscles up in shock. His mouth was warm and inviting, lighting passion through me. Sparking that need for touch, for a moment of pleasure against all the cruel harshness. To not feel alone and scared.
I slowly responded. Opened to him. He hissed, reacting to my voracious reply, his fingers clasping my face harder, his tongue slipping through my lips, curling against mine, deepening the kiss.
This was like when Zander kissed me. A burst of fervor flared up my vertebrae, taking over. I returned his kiss as if my life were on the line, but I wasn’t getting what I needed. Our mouths moved hungrily, but still, I needed more. Demanded it.
Then something shifted when he pressed his body into mine.
He seemed larger than I recalled, letting me feel everything.
His need. His desire. Pulsing and extraordinarily massive.
Everything about him encompassed me like he had suddenly grown feet taller.
Wider, more muscular, consuming me. His mouth moving against mine was so utterly divine, for once I was satisfied.
And fuck . . . horny as hell. Our kiss raked thick desire into my core, bowing my legs, adding more desperation to my kiss.
“Fuck, Kovacs, after weeks, I can’t say I mind being greeted this way.” A deep gravelly voice scraped over my skin, slipping between my legs like fingers, hardening my nipples instantly. My lids burst open, jerking me out of corded arms.
“Oh, my gods.” I stumbled back, blinking in confusion and fear, gaping at the huge figure standing before me, completely blocking Killian.
Warwick Farkas.
A cocky grin tugged the side of his mouth, his aqua blue eyes glowing like lights in the evening, his intensity slamming into me. Raw. Savage. Brutal.
“Missed you too, Kovacs,” he rumbled, his thick eyebrows lifting. Every syllable struck me, slipping and clawing over my skin as if they owned me. “Looks like you are doing just fine. Though it must not be that good, because you’re still thinking about me.”
“No,” I snarled, stepping farther away, gripping my head. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t here. Wake up, Brexley. Wake up.
“Don’t . . .” Warwick reached for me, his lips rising in a snarl. “I finally got in . . . Don’t push me out yet.”
“Get the fuck away.”
“You can’t trust him . . .”
“I can’t trust you.” I shook my head, covering my face. Wake up! Wake the hell up now!
“Brexley?”
“Get away from me!” I screamed, squeezing my lids tightly.
“Brexley . . . ?” A hand touched me. The voice was soft, soothing the burns I still felt on my skin from Warwick’s touch.
I pried my lashes apart, turning my head up into a beautiful face, the eyes the color of lavender. My head snapped around, searching for Warwick, knowing I would find nothing but shadows and whispers, my imagination conjuring him up like a spirit.
My throat dry, I licked my lips, standing straight.
“Are you all right?” Killian asked, hurt etching the corners of his eyes. He peered around, hunting for whatever caused my reaction. “I apologize if—”
“No. It’s fine . . . it wasn’t you.” I exhaled, touching my forehead. “I’m sorry. I must have lost too much blood today. I’m a little out of it.”
We both felt the lie.
“Of course.” He cleared his throat, no longer close to me, his hands in his pockets, the connection we had broken and scattered over the balcony like glass.
Fuck you, Farkas. You’re not even here, and you still wreck everything.
“Let me escort you back to your room.” He quickly switched back to the detached, aloof leader, as though he hadn’t been kissing me moments before.
Killian held his head high, strolling back inside, leaving me frazzled, confused, and a little disappointed.
I didn’t want to think it was because I actually liked him. That was not acceptable.
Neither was the way my body reacted to the phantom of Warwick. Was I losing my mind? Why did he feel and look so real? Why was I imagining him here?
Sighing heavily, my eyes flicked back across the water, hearing the slow river lap against the stone walls of my home. So close.
The longer I was outside the walls of Leopold, the more I forgot myself. Soon I would be unable to recall the girl I had been. I needed to get back. Be with my friends—with Caden. Then all would make sense again. It had to.
I still felt Warwick around me like a ghost, the sense of him brushing against me, his presence even in my imagination, overwhelming and solid.
Let me in. His words whispered through me again.
I snorted, my head shaking. “Hell no,” I muttered. I would do everything in my power to block him.
The only important thing was getting home.
In the distance, I heard the roar of a motorcycle, making me shiver. A chill seeped into my bones, as if a warm blanket had been tugged from my frame, unsettling my stomach.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I turned away and headed back to my cell, ignoring the sense of being off-kilter and floating away without an anchor.
Empty and scared.
It reminded me of the night Warwick left me in the showers after my kills, ripping away the strange comfort he had provided. As if he was the only thing that could secure me or let me drift off into oblivion.