A lot of it.
I want to entice him. I want to be good for him, if only so I can reap the reward. Good girls get rewards, right? Isn’t that how it is supposed to work?
Sneed said if I was good he’d reward me. But I couldn’t find it in me to obey him. I was not good.
But for Olly…I could be.
“What are you going to do if I don’t listen?” I tease him, and he sucks in a breath. His hands don’t shake as he says, “Just a pinch.”
“Olly?” I speak his name as the pinch comes, and I relax.
“What?” he asks. He takes my fist in his hand, his thumb moving over my knuckles.
“What are you going to do if I don’t listen to you?” I try again.
He twists his lips. “I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I smile as he says, “Though I would advise when it comes to tests, you do as I say; otherwise, you may end up hurt. Not intentionally, just…accidentally, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He runs his thumb over my knuckle. “I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”
My voice softens. “I don’t think you could hurt me, Olly.”
He lets my fist go as he changes the tube, and I grimace, keeping my gaze trained on him.
“How long were you…” he lets out a heavy breath. “Captive?”
The way he says the word is harsh. Bitter. Full of anger, and something about that speaks to me. It stirs familiar feelings, but also new ones.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “A while, I guess.”
“How did you get these?” His fingers trace a scar on my wrist.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I have to fight the urge to jump. He slides the needle out fast, applying pressure with the cotton ball faster.
“They needed samples, too,” I say cautiously. “They just…weren’t as gentle as you.”
He looks up at me with teary eyes. “They hurt you.”
It’s not a question. It’s a statement. An understanding.
“Yes,” I say as my fingers slide over his, where he presses the cotton. For a moment I look down at him, and he doesn’t move. Instead, his eyes search mine for something I can’t quite place.
“Keep pressure on that,” he says as he removes his hand. He bandages me up, and I watch as he labels the tubes of my blood and puts them in some machine. The scent of rain is thick, and it’s only then I realize that as he grimaces, one hand absentmindedly adjusts his cock.
He looks annoyed, shaking it off, but…
I can’t deny the room smells like a thunderstorm right now.
I remember thunderstorms from before the facility. When I was young, free.
I loved the suddenness. How it would be quiet, and then all of a sudden,boom!The rain would fall, the thunder echoing in the valley. Lightning striking and lighting up the whole sky.
I always found the storm relaxing.
“Do betas ever perfume?” I ask curiously. His eyes widen.
“Uh…no. Why do you ask?” he says, reaching a hand behind his head.
“Because you smell really fucking good right now.”
