She shatters on demand, her walls contracting around me in waves, her cry muffled by my shoulder as she bites down.
The sensation pushes me over my own limits, and pleasure explodes through me with force. I spill inside her, thrusting through the aftershocks until we're both spent, panting and clinging.
Reality crashes back as our breathing slows. She's still wrapped around me, her face buried in my neck, the red, swollen mark from my mouth bright on her collarbone with what we just did.
The high quickly fades, leaving a cold clarity. Mikhail's warning echoes in my mind, his voice a shadow that promises death. If I stay, if I let this pull me back in, it'll end with me bleeding out somewhere, her family erasing me without a second thought.
I can't risk it.
So I take the coward's way out, easing out of her, setting her feet on the floor.
She looks up, eyes searching mine, but I step back, zipping up my jeans.
"Red..." she starts, reaching for me.
I shake my head, hating myself, and coldly insisting, "This changes nothing. We can't be together. I'm sorry." My voice comes out steadier than I expect, but inside, everything twists.
I grab my jacket, turn the handle, and walk outside. The morning air hits my face, sharp and unforgiving, but I keep moving, unsure where I'm going, but knowing I have to get away from her. It's the only chance we both have for survival.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Blue
Asharp slam echoes around me, and I stare at the front door, my insides shaking hard. I keep my arms crossed over my bare chest, afraid to move. The warmth I felt only minutes ago, when Red pinned me to the wall, fades quickly.
My breath sticks high in my throat. I wait for the doorknob to turn and Red to come back through the door, declaring he knows he can't be without me, but it stays firm in its place.
A dull ache grows more intense, as my heart hammers too hard and too fast, each beat slamming into my ribs and making my stomach twist until nausea creeps up and settles there. Any warmth left disappears, leaving my skin prickling and cold, every inch breaking out in goose bumps.
My thighs tremble without moving, my hands shake against my arms, and swallowing becomes deliberate because my throat keeps tightening like it might close if I let it. I don't look away, because the second I do, the waiting becomes real, and my body keeps bracing for the knob to turn, for footsteps, for some sign he didn't just give up on us.
"Please come back," I whisper.
No matter how much I will Red to appear, the house stays deadly silent with my pulse banging hard enough to make my ears ring.
He's outside.
He just needs a minute to get past his fear and clear his head.
I swallow, forcing air into my lungs one slow breath at a time. The tick of the clock turns louder, and I blink hard, tighten my arms around my chest, and finally take a step toward the door.
Tears blur my vision, and the tremble in my hand turns violent. My fingers curl and uncurl against my arm until I can't see if the knob is moving or steady due to tears falling. Hope spikes and crashes until the waiting hurts more than the leaving.
Just open it.
He's there.
I take a choked breath and reach for the knob, fling the door open, and a gust of chilly wind knocks me backward. I swipe my wet face and push forward, stepping onto the cold porch pavers.
"Red!" I cry out, but it's weak. A new wave of nausea hits while I glance as far as I can, but can't find him.
"Red!" I scream, stepping off the porch and onto the walkway, shaking harder from the cold.
A raw devastation explodes within me.
He left me.
Everything turns foggy. Somehow, I make it back into the house. The couch where he stood is empty. His jacket isn't there. The air still smells like him, but that only makes my stomach twist harder.
