Chapter Nine #2
“My specialty is actually working my way between their thighs. I get very high reviews for my work.” I gaze hard at her. “Did you sleep?”
“Sure.”
I arch an eyebrow at her; she sighs. “The fuck does it matter? You’re planning on using me for leverage against Dagon, right? Who gives a shit if I’m well-rested?”
I rear back. Where the hell did that assumption come from?
“That’s not part of my central plan,” I reply, brows furrowing. “I suppose it could be seen as an added bonus.”
“He won’t come for me.” Her voice is flat. “He’ll wait for me to come to him. And every second I delay endangers something precious to me.”
“What is this precious thing?” I ask.
She seals her lips, shutting down. I sigh, shaking my head. “Flame, I can’t help you if I don’t know how to help. If there’s something you’re worried about, you need to tell me, and then I’ll fix it. But, without knowing, I can’t do anything.”
She bares her teeth. “Give you leverage over me? No thanks. I already have one wannabe supervillain to deal with; I’m not looking to add another to the roster.”
This needs to be dealt with, but not now. Now, I need to find us both food, and decide how to deal with Ember for the rest of the drive back to HQ.
“When was the last time you slept?” I ask, stroking a hand through her hair. Her nose wrinkles at the affectionate touch, and it transports me back in time. Once upon a time, she'd wrinkle her nose just like that whenever she disliked something or was confounded by it.
“Does it matter?” she asks.
“Yes.” It definitely does. I’ve learned from Greyson that having a chosen, owning a woman is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s gratifying, fulfilling, heady, and satisfying in every way.
On the other hand… humans are much more needy than pets, with a wealth of potential problems that require careful monitoring.
Something tells me that Ember will be high-maintenance.
Not because she’s incapable of taking care of herself…
but because the glimpses I’ve seen of her personality so far indicate that she’s incapable—or vastly opposed—to asking for help.
She doesn’t reply. I take that as the perfect invitation to take liberties with her bound body until she decides to unseal her lips and talk.
“What are you doing?” she asks in a high-pitched tone as I straddle her and help myself to a handful of her breasts.
They fit just right in my hands. Perfect. Fuck, I can’t wait to suck her pretty little nipples. I’m curious to see if she can come from that alone. Time will tell.
“Stop!” she snaps.
“Answer my question, and I might.” I slip down her bra, sucking my lower lip into my mouth as I stare greedily at her tits. They’re perfect.
“Why do you care about my sleeping—” she cuts off with a gasp and quiet moan when I lightly brush my thumbs over her nipples. Firm, tight, beautifully pink.
“Two days,” she hisses out. “Maybe three. I don’t know.”
I slide my hands down to her waist, brows furrowing. “Why? Were you busy killing people?”
This time, she doesn’t give me the chance to play with her before responding. “No, I’m just a shit sleeper.”
I stare at her expectantly. “Explain.”
Her delicate throat works through a swallow. “It’s pretty cyclical. I’ll stay awake for three or four days, and then I’ll crash and sleep for twelve hours.”
That does not sound healthy at all. Ember was always a fine sleeper—what the fuck happened to her?
“Flame,” I say carefully. “How are you alive?”
It’s a question for the ages. She’s scarred up and down, wholly fucked up, and seems to run on sheer anger and fear alone. What the hell happened to the wide-eyed, exuberant girl I fell for?
Every time I’ve asked her, she’s responded simply with life. What the fuck has life done to her, and how do I protect her from it? How am I supposed to help her if I can barely recognize her?
“Tenacity and fury,” she responds simply. “Any chance you’d like to let me out of these fucking ropes? They’re chafing my skin.”
I wince. The ropes she’s tied with are deliberately harsh; ones I usually use on targets, hence why I always bring them. They will be chafing her skin, but I can’t risk letting her out of them. I need to go find food, and I don’t want to return, only to find she’s escaped.
“I’m afraid not,” I say apologetically. I right her bra and get off her. “I’m going to go find food. Have any preferences?”
“Your head on a platter?”
I wince. “Ouch, Flame. We really gotta rework your tastes. Don’t pull a zombie on me and start going after my brains.”
“If the zombie apocalypse ever happened, I’m certain you’d be safe.”
My brows furrow. “Huh?”
“You lack the brains to be a nutritious meal,” she clarifies. “The effort expended to hunt you down—which I’m sure would be negligible—wouldn’t be worth the absence of grey matter in your thick head.”
I throw said head back and roar with laughter. Ember appears startled by my amusement instead of being encouraged by it.
In the day since I’ve snatched her, she’s made my heart bleed and soar more than it has in years—since she left me.
“Alright, Flame. Stay put. When I’m back, I’ll release you. And, if you try to defy me or fight again, I’ll take that as an invitation to fuck you until you submit.” I flash her my teeth in a poor example of a smile. “Clear?”
“Crystal,” she replies. Is that a breathy note I detect in her voice? My stomach chooses that moment to let out a ridiculous roar, so I stand, quickly dress, and disappear.