“Princess?”
“I cried.”
Dig lifted my face, watching the tear mark its track down my skin and brushed his thumb over it to wipe it away.
“I’m crying.” A second tear dribbled out of my eye, and then a third.
Sweet agony and suffering fizzed up inside of me, ready to burst. Hot, sticky, pounding and so very lovely. The tears fell, each one precious and horrible.
Dig smiled, his eyes sweeping over my tears. “You cried, Princess. I’m so proud of you.”
“I seriously thought I was a psychopath for a little while there.” My crying turned ugly. “Oh freckles, I’m not a psychopath.”
“You’re not a psychopath.”
“But… but I’m Soulless.”
“Fuck Soulmates,” he said. “I want you on purpose.”
He crushed his lips onto mine. Starving for the taste of him, I kissed back. His tongue pressed between my lips, a plea for me to open and so I did, and we collided into each other, devouring. He smelled like leather, like blood. With his arms around me, his chest over mine, his hands going through my hair… he felt like home.
We lived there, together in each other’s world, two lost Soulless souls reaching out their hands in the silent night of this world and finding each other.
Dig kissed my lips, he kissed my tears, he kissed my neck and took off my shirt to kiss both of my breasts. He travelled his lips over my skin as if he were sinking secrets into me.
In the shower, as the waterfall of warm water cascaded over us, Dig continued to kiss me, getting on his knees. And there, as he bowed in front of me, he held the backs of my thighs and worshiped me with his tongue until I erupted from the mess of his adoration.
He washed me, devotedly, running the cloth over my skin, caressing me clean, digging his fingers into my scalp with shampoo. I traced over the arcs of his chest, learning each abdominal line, mapping over the contours of his body, the strength of his thighs and thickness of his cock. While I took him in my mouth, he brushed his thumb over my cheek smiling down at me until he came undone, groaning, filling my mouth with his seed.
He dried me with a towel and carried me into our bed and we spent our last night in the cocoon of the bedroom. I got on all fours as he kissed me between my legs, making me drip with need, and then he pounded into me until I eclipsed into bliss. I rode him on top, panting through each thrust, his hands holding my ass, digging his nails into my soft flesh, urging me faster and then slower and then fast again. We looked at each other. I looked into his eyes—his—the eyes that belonged to him and no one else and he looked back at me without once flicking his sight away.
Morning tendrilled rays of light under the hem of the paisley print curtains. I lay nested in Dig’s arms, our naked bodies knitted into each other. Playing with a strand of his dark hair, I kissed his sleeping mouth, enjoying the way the sunlight spilled across his skin, highlighting the roll of his biceps. I pushed a sleeping Dig Graves over to lay on his back, nibbled his earlobe and stroked his cock to harden.
“Princess.” He growled as he awoke, pressing his fingers into his eyes to wipe away sleep. “How do you have this much energy?”
“This time, I want you to pull my hairandbite me, right when I’m about to come. I don’t care where you bite, surprise me.”
A tired sigh heaved from his lips. “You know yesterday someone stabbed me in my back.”
“Are you dying?”
“No, but—”
“We only have an hour left and we are back in prison.” I snapped my teeth down on his earlobe.
“Gah!” He suddenly became more awake and snatched my chin, bringing my face to meet his.
A strand of my hair fell and mingled with his black hair, messy from my hands. His lips were raw and bruised from my own, there was a love mark just under his other ear from where I had sucked on his skin to bloom red. I was all over Dig Graves. He wore me like his best clothing, like his favourite moisturiser, like one of his tattoos inked forever into him.
He was on my own skin too. He was inside of me.
Surely this was another kind of Soulmate? Two people so intoxicated and enveloped into each other. We had gift-wrapped ourselves and given over our bodies, our minds, our souls without expecting something in return. Maybe we were better than Soulmates.
Dig twitched with playful irritation at my bite, showcasing his infamous glower and slipped his hand down my waist, ready to devastate me in beautiful ways. “You bite me, you get bitten back.”
We kissed instead of biting.
Dig pulled me to him. His dark eyes shimmered, looking down at me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get us out of here. I had a plan, but it didn’t work.”
