“Doesn’t mean what?”
“It doesn’t mean anything!I don’t—I don’t touch people!Ithappens!My uncle told me—”
“Oh, your uncle, huh?”
He focused on the church architecture, feeling like any wordhe spoke would only betray him further.He strained for any perch to rest histhoughts.
Apses.
Arcaded piers.
Studded reliefs and curving pews.
The purpose of a mortuary chapel was to prepare and anointthe dead—
She thrusted herself across his groin, like she was tryingto scrub through a stain.He could feel her lips slide across his lengththrough the layers of fabric.It seemed to grip—
Anatomy lessons.
Beasts.
Sandwyrms.Vestigial wings.Composition of scales.
Labia, vulva—
“Gotta be honest,” she said, breath hot and close.“I’m notusually this chatty with a hostage.Like to think I’m a professional, mosttimes.”
He wanted to thrust.He wanted to grab.He wanted to run andhide and never be seen by anyone ever again.
“I’ll admit,” Zaria said, “Iamgrateful to you, forsavin’ my life.At the same time, you got a petulance about you that just begsfor teasing.It’s like you’re askin’ me for it.”She bucked her hipsparticularly hard, and his leg kicked out against smooth tile.“Maybe, in theend, I’m just weak for the cute and helpless.”
His father.
Think about his father.
Her teeth nibbled at his ear.
“Maybe, also, I want you to stop lying to yourself.”
Weight.Pressure.Sliding.
“Whatever the case, whatever it means, I gotta say.”Shebreathed out, slow and hot.“You’ve been drivin’ me mad, Isaac.Last night, I woulda fucked you right in thesand.”
He closed his eyes.
“But I didn’t,” she said, “because I got some decency.Notmuch, but enough to matter.”
He felt her face begin to rise.When he took a frightenedpeek, she was hovering close above, their noses inches apart.Several emotionscrossed her face.
Anger.
Calculation.
Amusement.
Lust.
“Now,” she said.“You went and fucked me first.And thatsettles it, for me.”
