And she doesn’t move hers.
My lungs burn—there’s no air in the room, and I don’t blink. I don’t think she’s breathing either. I’ve fucked her. I’ve had my tongue between her legs, her lips around my cock. I’ve heard her moaning and coming and felt her grasping my hair to ride my face.
Yet this, a simple touch, is killing me.
It’s more than sex.
It’s more than anything.
Absently, my pinkie twitches, and my heart ricochets against my ribs so harshly, I fear she may hear it nearly bounding out of my chest.
She’ll know I’m nervous and think I’m pathetic.
I gulp, and just when I’ve almost convinced myself to pull away, her fingers lace with mine, and I don’t hesitate to tighten the hold.
Neither of us say a word into the silent bliss.
Sable falls asleep, and I lie in that spot for the next eight hours, marking this key moment in my pitiful existence because I’m holding hands with a girl. Comforting her as her illness kicks in.
Throughout the night, she wakes and sleeps, with groans of pain, often terrified of something that isn’t there. I hold her hand through it all. An anchor to this world and not the riot going on in her head.
Her head is resting on my chest now as I whisper to her that I’m here, that she’s going to be okay. Her leg is between mine. Her breaths hit my neck, and I can smell the strawberry scent of her hair.
The second she falls into a deep sleep I know she won’t repeatedly rise from, I don’t push her away. Instead, I keep her against me and tighten my arms around her.
And I like it.
23
Sable
The last time anyone played nurse for me was a paid registered professional.
I would’ve guessed that talking cats existed before thinking that I’d be doted on by a murderous demon.
It was cute at the start, but now I’m questioning if it’s worth reopening my wounds to uppercut him.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get back to bed.” Lynx comes barreling through the guest bedroom door. I swear the asshole has a sixth sense when it comes to knowing when I’m trying to sneak out.
Sure, yeah, I got a little bit chummy and teary eyed the first five times he swept me off my feet and carried me bridal style to the bed. I bit the inside of my cheek and pretended I wasn’t blushing whenever he stayed for a no-touching cuddle session, and didn’t leave until I was fast asleep.
And yeah, my chest felt lighter and it felt like my soul could finally breathe whenever the pain got too much and hewhispered words of support, because it felt like I wasn’t hurting alone.
And, yes,maybewhenever I was around him and the pain wasn’t too bad, I confused butterflies for nausea, and blushing for an infection that caused fever, but the truth of the matter is that Iwasinternally gushing over his attentiveness yesterday, and the days before.
I’ve even missed every moment he’s left to do a perimeter check for signs of more Tor’Oths, and longed for him to come back and look at me—treat me—like I might be something precious to him. Like he might truly care about me.
Maybe it’s dumb, and maybe it’s more dangerous than I realize, but a little kernel of hope has blossomed in my chest that everything I’ve been feeling isn’t one-sided.
But first things first.
“If I have to spend another minute holed up in this musty, godforsaken room, I’m going to find one of those scary-looking demons and let the fucker take my soul,” I snarl, squaring up to Lynx even though I’m hunched over from the four jagged cuts across my stomach that still hurt like a bitch every time I do anything but pass out.
My skin itches as I try to move past his imposing frame and make a run for it out of the door. This may not be my bedroom, but it’s still the manor I grew up in, and I’ve been locked inside my room more times than I can count.
I’m starting to suffocate in here.
Lynx moves to pick me up, and I stumble to the side, trying to inch closer to the exit.
