“That’s right. No. Don’t ask for something you can’t handle.” I release her for the sole reason that touching her, having her shiver against me, is enough to make me want to fuck her.
And I actually don’t want to hurt her when she must be sore.
Cecily clutches her towel so tight that her knuckles whiten, then she rushes back to sit against the other end of the sofa.
The sound of the burning logs fills the living room and mixes with her quickening breaths before she releases a sigh.
“And what am I supposed to do now? Drown in your broody, emotionless company?”
“Here’s what you’re not supposed to do. Sarcasm. Didn’t I tell you to drop it? If I repeat myself again, it won’t be with words.”
Silence, fidgeting, and more silence. Then she abruptly stands up. “I’m going to look for some clothes.”
“You look fine the way you are.”
“I’m sure you’d think that,” she starts to mock, but then clears her throat. “Do you have to rip my clothes?”
“No, but it’s more thrilling when I do.”
“Wow. Okay. That was direct.”
“I’m nothing less than direct.”
A weird expression covers her features, almost like resignation, or understanding.
Or maybe I’m imagining both.
“I can see that,” she says with revering calm. “But you’re not impulsive or reckless, so why did you make us play that game earlier? It’s out of character for you to put your life in danger. You don’t seem suicidal.”
“I’m not.”
“What if one of us died?”
“We wouldn’t have. I removed the bullet before you started.”
Her lips part and she stares at me as if I’m Lucifer himself. “You…you…”
“No rush. Take your time in finding the words.”
“I really thought I was going to die!”
“Which made you more honest. Aren’t you glad I was creative to find a way to make you open up?”
“Screw you,” she mutters, then trudges to the stairs and disappears at the top.
She must’ve taken a discovery tour around here the last time. I’m not worried that she’ll escape since the balconies and windows are high.
I remove my jacket, throw it on a nearby chair, and text back and forth with Ilya about security details.
Preferably, this should’ve been done in person, and I should’ve also plotted to inflict more damage on the Serpents. But the thought of leaving this place to do all of those chores holds no appeal.
No, not this place.Someonein this place.
“Why…do you have these?”
I lift my head from my phone to stare at Cecily. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black tee that molds against her tits.
The items in question are a few mangas she probably found on the nightstand. Even as she holds them, her hands aren’t completely steady.