Chapter 3 #3
I don’t think about what I’m doing as I scoop her into my arms and climb onto my bed.
I switch off the lamp, plunging us into darkness before putting my back to the wall and her back to me as I pull her against my chest. She’s maybe around five-six, which is significantly smaller than my six-five height, but she feels even smaller pressed up against me, the bed far too big.
Her hair is soaking into my arm and the sheets, and like an infectious disease, the frost clinging to her sinks into my pores. While I’m used to plunging my body into a pool filled with ice for training, it’s only made me hate the cold more.
It’s fitting she’s the reason ice is corroding my veins.
She slurs something, but I’m too focused on ensuring she’s completely bundled inside the blanket to care. For good measure, I tug her into my arms before covering us both with my comforter.
I have no idea how much time passes while I concentrate on the feeling of the steady rise and fall of her chest against my arm, though it's enough for her violent tremors to calm. All the while, I keep my stare locked on the back of her head, my brain empty and operating on instinct alone.
Eventually, she shifts against me as if she’s stirring from a deep slumber.
I lift my head to see her better right as her eyes creak open.
Moonlight spears through the blinds on the backside of the room, the beams casting across her face just right, illuminating the caution and panic subtly twisting her features.
Awareness must sink in, and her body stiffens to solid stone.
The shift of emotion on her face is like a bomb detonating at the bottom of a dam.
Now that she’s no longer on the brink of death, my contempt comes bursting back in, flooding my chest until my upper lip curls with distaste.
She hasn’t said a single word, and I’m already regretting saving her.
Most days, I hate that she’s even alive. But leaving her out to die would’ve implicated Rogue and Severen as well, and while I often grapple with throwing my life away to snuff hers, I refuse to ruin my friends’ lives, too.
“Can I go now?” she asks quietly, an edge to her tone.
While I’d love nothing more than for her to get the fuck out of my bed, something feels inherently wrong with just… letting her go. It feels too simple, too easy to let her walk away from me.
She nearly died, but now, she’s alive and breathing perfectly fine, and I really fucking resent that.
I sit up and lean on the arm beneath her head, staring down at her side profile while I contemplate how to answer. She keeps her face turned forward as her eyes slide toward me.
The anxiety rolling off her is one of my favorite perfumes. I love when she’s nervous—scared.
She’s both my greatest addiction and deepest affliction.
My stare wanders down her bundled form, and an idea sparks in my head.
“Nah. I’m nowhere close to being finished with you.”
She scoffs, and a small, lingering shiver racks her body.
“You’ve tortured me in every possible way the last four years, and you’ve succeeded in almost killing me now,” she says, her voice hoarse. “What more is there to do to me?”
That makes me laugh.
Acid drips from my tone as I say, “Baby, I’m just getting started.”
Her upper lip curls—the same reaction she gives every time I call her ‘darling.’ She hates it more than anything, and nothing makes me happier than pissing her off.
“Just let me lea—” She chokes on the last word when I reach over her and blindly grab my phone from the nightstand. I squint when I tap the screen, the bright light harsh in the darkness, pricking my eyes. Reverie winces, turning her face into my forearm while I click on my flashlight.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her tone deepening with caution and concern.
Ignoring her, I aim the light on my nightstand, where several writing utensils are scattered.
I grin when I locate a Sharpie amongst them, snatching it from the table and dropping it onto the bed.
Then, I switch off the flashlight, open my camera app, and hit the swivel button to face the camera toward us.
She takes one look at the screen and immediately goes to scramble off the bed.
“Uh-uh,” I berate.
My left arm trapped beneath her snaps up to circle around her throat before jerking her back against me, keeping myself balanced on that elbow.
The blanket around her has slid down, allowing her icy skin to press into my chest, sending a chill down my spine.
Except it does nothing to dampen the fire burning in the pit of my stomach.
A breathless chuckle escapes when she bucks against me. “Where you goin’, huh? Stay right there, baby, you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
“Dread,” she snaps, her voice wobbling and body tensing impossibly further. She brings both hands up to grip my forearm barred around her throat, digging her nails in deep. The bite of pain makes my heart pump faster with excitement. “Let me the fuck go!”
I hum, pleased by her panic. “Keep saying my name, darlin’. The more scared you are, the sweeter it sounds,” I purr.
Setting my phone on the bed, I kick the comforter off us, then tug at the blanket loosely wrapped around her until it unravels, exposing her naked body. She surges forward a second time, attempting to thrash out of my hold, but I keep her trapped simply by tightening my arm around her throat.
With only the abysmal light emanating from my phone, I can’t see much, but what I can make out has my cock stiffening.
I grit my teeth, willing my body to stop reacting. But it doesn't, especially when she pleads, “Dread.”
Her voice sounds a thousand miles away as I trace my eyes down her thin waist that flares out into wide hips, over her perfect fucking belly button.
I’ve never noticed any other woman’s, yet my mouth waters with the urge to dip my tongue into hers before trailing it down to the tempting V between her thick thighs.
My fingers twitch and my blood heats. I grind my molars, attempting to force my body not to react to her once again.
It proves pointless when my cock pulses beneath my sweatpants instead.
The cooler air coerces goosebumps to rise on her pale skin, pebbling her deep rosy nipples into hard peaks. Her tits are fucking beautiful. They’re not huge but plenty big enough to fill my hands and fit my cock in between.
Fuck.
I grind my teeth harder, enough to crack bone.
I’m not fucking blind to Reverie’s beauty, but I’ve tried my best over the years to not let it affect me.
I didn’t always succeed, but now more than ever, I’m failing fucking drastically.
I’ve never seen her naked before now, and a large part of me is regretting all of this.
I need to control myself.
Think of someone else. Anyone else.
Exhaling a slow breath through my nose, I drag my eyes to the ceiling and force myself to recall the blonde I fucked a while back, picturing her tits instead.
I’m fairly certain they were smaller. Or bigger?
Fuck, no, bigger nipples and smaller tits.
They were just as bitable as any other pair, at least from what I can remember, which is admittedly, almost nothing.
But as Reverie twists against me in another attempt to wiggle from my hold, it draws my stare back down to her, and I’m having trouble remembering any woman’s breasts right now when hers are demanding my attention.
Her chest pumps wildly, and her trembling intensifies, though I suspect it derives more from fear than being cold now. It only makes my cock throb harder, almost to the point of pain.
“Dread, please,” she tries again, the words cracking in her throat. The sound travels straight between my legs, making my hips scream with the urge to grind against her.
Instead, I drop my lips against her ear, brushing them over the soft shell before whispering, “I love it when you beg.”
That stuns her long enough for me to pick up my phone again, click on the video option, and hit record.
“You’re going to be a good girl and stay still for me, yeah?” I rasp, keeping my voice low and encouraging. I keep my eyes on the phone, panning the camera down her lithe body caged against mine.
The sight is fucking mouthwatering. Drool pools around my tongue as I take in her curves, toned stomach, and full tits squished between her arms, putting those pretty nipples on full display. All the while, she trembles, only adding to the eroticism of it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I close my eyes, taking a moment to regain the control that’s quickly slipping through my grasp.
She may be a fucking vision on the outside, but on the inside, she’s like a rot that decays my teeth. Only a goddamn root canal could get her out.
“I’ll fucking scream,” she threatens shakily.
“Yeah? You want to know what will happen if you do?” I ask, my focus on the side of her face illuminated by the screen, providing a clear view of the deep crease between her brows, those watery eyes, and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth to keep it from trembling.
I grin before delivering a sharp nip to the soft lobe of her ear. “You’ll force me to cover your mouth, and my hands are big, you know?” I whisper. “I might cover your nose, too, and I won’t let go until you’re incapable of making a sound. I might even wait until you stop moving, just to be sure.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, and she shakes her head helplessly, a single tear sliding across her nose and dripping onto the sheets. My mouth parts, and I nearly groan.
It might be the first time I’ve seen her cry, which proves that this time, I’ve almost broken her. Delight stirs in my stomach, and I hope she gives me another tear. I’ll make sure to catch it on my tongue if she does.
“Tell me you’ll be a good girl,” I demand softly.
She shakes her head, and I tighten my arm against her throat, causing her eyes to snap open again. Her nails sink deeper into my skin, evoking a low growl to rumble deep in my chest.