After what she’d done for me?
After the way Cal looked at her?
After the sacrifice she’d made for Eleanor?
I couldn’t.
I would never hurt Jess again.
Hoisting Eleanor higher into my arms, I strode over the threshold of Euphoria and prepared to rescue my woman.
Only once she was safe would I come back.
I’d come back and save Jessica.
I’d give her, her freedom.
I’d place my debt at her feet.
I’d try to repair everything that I’d done wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I NEEDED, NEEDED, NEEDED.
I’d tried to remain sane.
I’d tried to fight the repugnant pull of elixir.
I’d done my best not to be a slut while Sully fought the guards and turned murderer.
But I wasn’t strong enough.
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
I needed to come; that was undeniable. I was beside myself with pain—that was irrefutable—but my heart…my heart couldn’t figure out a healthy rhythm anymore.
The longer I denied myself—the harder I fought the ratcheting, climbing, tightening mess my body had become, the more my heart coughed and tripped.
I cried out again as Sully’s touch ate into me with acid and delight. Having him so close physically branded me. He felt like fire. Cinder wrapped around me, gunpowder trickling through me.
It hurt. It hurt so, so much.
“Arbi, it’s Sinclair. Call the fucking police.” Sully tripped and limp-jogged down the sandy pathway, my body jostling in his embrace. He wedged his cell phone against his shoulder, barking commands at his third-in-charge. “Don’t care. Do it. Do it now.” Allowing the phone to fall from his hold, he picked up his punishing pace.
My mind flew back to Euphoria where Jealousy was given a cure. The image of her slipping onto a cock made me moan. Envy filled me as my core clenched around nothingness.
I didn’t want Drake, but I wanted what she had.
I needed what she had.
I needed it because I couldn’t survive the compressing, contracting agony of every cell. My stomach, my chest, my core, my clit. They’d filled with toxin that I had no vaccine for, no way of curing on my own.
Come.
You need to come.
It’d gone past salacious hunger and slipped into life-threatening.
I needed to release.
To shatter the bone-cracking pressure.
I need—
“Eleanor. Please…fight it.” Sully carried me farther from Euphoria, bats flitted around us, night insects serenaded us. No tiki torches flickered, leaving us at the mercy of the scattered solar lanterns and the Milky Way above.
My spine bowed in his arms as things turned unbearable inside me. I panted and gasped, my mouth wide for air as my heart slammed violently against my ribs.
I battled lust, but I also scrambled to stay clawing to life.
I’d never felt this way before—never had such a nightmarish blend of death and desire.
“Sully…I don’t feel right.”
I wanted him inside me.
I needed him to fuck me.
It wasn’t about sex anymore.
It was about keeping me alive.
“Sully…” I squirmed in his arms, desperate to kiss him, trying to capture his lips as he clutched me close and continued half-running, half-limping down the laneway. “Please…you have to help me.”
“Give me more time, Eleanor.” He tripped, cursing with a vicious tongue. A tongue I needed in me, on me, tasting me, corrupting me.
I curled into a little ball as an orgasm wrapped itself tight around my core. The blood-red eyes of those nasty little demons were back, slicing my womb with savage teeth—a seething mass of yearning.
We appeared at the fork. The same fork where he’d fucked me against a tree, on my knees, on my back. “Sully!”
I couldn’t be denied much longer.
I’d been a good girl.
I’d fought against Drake as he’d kneaded my breasts. I’d ignored Jealousy as she’d rubbed against me. I’d kept my hands to myself and not self-administered a release.
I’ve been good.
So please, please give me bad!
Struggling to breathe, I wriggled my hand between us as Sully continued his ruthless staggering march. I fisted the iron rod between his legs, the tip slippery with pre-cum, popping out the top of his black boxer-briefs.
The stupid fingerprint sensors tried to scramble how delicious he felt. My eyes were hazy from the lenses. My skin slippery with oil I didn’t need. I’d been prepared for a session to be fucked and taken…and instead, I’d only been given refusals and rejection.
Tears tracked down my cheeks.
I was pitiful.
I was pain.
I was pathetic as I rubbed him with an invitation he didn’t want. “Please, Sully. I can’t survive this much longer.”
He stumbled, his jaw locking as he looked down into my sweat-flushed face. “Eleanor…” His forehead furrowed into thick tracks. “I need to get you safe. Stop touching me.”
My smoking, malfunctioning heart faltered. “You don’t want me?”
That killed me.
Annihilated me.
Thick torrents of desolation spilled over as I lost myself deeper to elixir.
He doesn’t want me.
He can’t help me.
He’s immune.
I sobbed as my other hand went to my breast, squeezing and massaging, my fingernails digging punishingly into my nipple.