“You’re my Keeper.”
“I’ll be dead.”
Her lip curls into a snarl. “But I don’t want anyone else! I hate it here—I hate the people here. I can’t believe you’d ask that of me.”
“I know, and Cole said he wouldn’t make you take a Keeper, but I want this for you. I want you to know love again. I want you to love your life—every moment of it—even if it’s without me. And if we make a baby, I want it to have a father.”
She flings her arms around me and presses her lips to mine, locking us in a soulful kiss.
I can’t believe I get to have her this one last time. That maybe we’ll make a baby together.
God, I hope we do. I hope it’s a beautiful little girl that looks like her.
She pulls away and looks at me with frantic eyes. “Fine—you win. But you can’t make me wait any longer. I need you.”
I don’t tell her how badly I need her, too.
Instead, I lift and carry her into the adjoining room, placing her on the bed.
She looks so sweet and innocent that it’s hard to imagine she’d watched me torture a man. That she liked it.
I unzip the Keep-issued orange jumpsuit and let it fall down my body. Fiona waggles her brow enticingly, and for a moment, the situation isn’t so desperate. It’s like we’re normal people.
She shimmies out of her tank top and shorts, and I notice her pale yellow panties are already damp.
God, I want to fuck her. She’s the only woman who’s ever done it for me without having to tear flesh from bone. The only one that’s made me forget my pain.
“Have you been thinking about me?” she asks.
“Every day.” I crawl onto the bed, grab her ankles, and pull them apart.
“You don’t have to do that!” she says.
“You think I don’t want to?”
She shrugs. “Time.”
“I want to die with the taste of you on my lips.”
“Don’t say that,” she says sadly.
I drop my chest to the mattress and pull her panties down her creamy thighs.
She smells like heaven, and I can hardly hold myself back from devouring her, but I need to fucking see her.
“Look at me,” I demand.
She brings her eyes to mine and her cheeks tint pink.
I loop my arms around her legs and spread her lower lips. “Don’t you ever be embarrassed about your pussy. It’s perfect.”
She gives a happy sigh that satisfies me in a way I imagine makes me a Keeper.
I plant a series of sloppy kisses on Fiona’s thighs, relishing the way her muscles tense, her legs closing against my cheeks.
I wish I could say I was patient and able to draw out her pleasure for hours, but I’m too damn hungry for her. I need to feel her come.
“Oh, God—” she cries as I let out a growl, pushing my face against her seam as I bury my tongue in her sweetness.
