Page 12

“What about Naomi? Who was she to you?”

A beat of silence this time, and his body goes rigid. A response I dislike but don’t show. “She was a mediocre fuck,” he says. “And I screwed her for the same reasons I did Olivia.”

I burst out laughing, even though I don’t want to laugh about Naomi and Micah, or any blonde for that matter. Watching them together for those few weeks on the island never sat right with me, even before I fell in love with him. Naomi always seemed like a cardboard cut-out, like she was just a shell of a person.

Micah manages a small smile as I meet his eyes, and I stop laughing. He pokes at my ribs, making me squirm. “Naomi was never anything to me,” he reassures me. “But I do feel bad for how I treated her. I was nothing but a bad habit for her, and I fed her addiction every time it suited me.”

This makes my stomach fill with acid.

“And what about me? Who am I to you?” I ask, pressing my lips together as heat rises to my face. I move his tousled dark hair out of his eyes so I can truly see them.

He says he loves me, but sometimes I wonder if it’s the forced proximity. Like, maybe, if we were never in this scenario, he would have continued ignoring me at school. I would have graduated, he would have gone off to do whatever it was he was meant to do, and I would have never seen him again. I hate having that vile thought when I feel like he is my soulmate. And there was a high likelihood we never would have found each other.

He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me, soft and sensual. “You are fucking precious to me, and you’re mine in a way they never were. You’re my cure, London. Is that what you want to hear?”

All the tension in my body releases, but I still dig my nails into his back. “It is what I want to hear,” I mutter, “but I want you to mean it.”

He keeps his laser-focused eyes on me. “Words are hollow, sweetheart.”

My breath becomes jagged, my eyes mischievous. I’m nowhere near done, and we have all the time in the world. “Well, show me, then, Micah,” I tease.

He pulls off me and nudges me up to my knees, pulling out his cock, which has been fully erect since he started sucking on my stomach. He wraps his hand around the back of my head, sliding his fingers through my hair, and gently pulls me to his muscled body.

“No, baby,” he grips me harder, “you are going to show me. Are you sure you’re ready for me, London?”

I open my eyes wide and give him a nod as heat pools in the innermost parts of me. This is what I live for now, making Micah happy. I’m blindly in love with him, even though he isn’t stable. He’s been through too much to ever be normal. And it excites me to experience him this way. My body, heart, and soul are completely at his mercy.

It helps me forget, too.

He arches both eyebrows and gazes down at me, and the predatory expression sends shivers down my spine. “Now, open your mouth, sweetheart, and suck.”

Chapter Four

London

Christmas

The paradox of experiencing immense pleasure and excruciating pain simultaneously is beyond comprehension—almost as if they are two sides of the same coin. I’ve become numb to the pain from being on this island; my body fails to register it. My grief from losing Maison is so real, yet the fire I have for Micah burns so strongly that it overwhelms it. I’m still alive because of Micah, and I only remain alive because he chooses to let me live. And there is something so incredibly sexy about the power he has over me.

I’m happy for the first time in a long time. And it pains me beyond belief to admit that. It kills me inside because I miss Maison so much and shouldn’t feel this way. Micah managed to find us a home out here—even through all odds. He found a place for us. And for the first time in a long time, I have a home. It’s like the person who built this place never wanted to truly leave it. The land around it is so isolated and cold. Their energy is still here, whoever they are—they saved us. I hope the person who owns it won’t come back. But then I picture the three feet of snow trapping us in, and I remember we don’t have to leave yet. No one is coming for us.

I constantly worry about the others—Jade, especially. I doubt they are as warm and comfortable as we are, although Micah assures me that he left them with everything they need to survive. In the rare times of my day when I’m not fully consumed with the boy whose lips are constantly on me, I think about them, and a tiny wave of guilt breezes over me. For the first time since being on this island, I can truly relax.

I’m not sure how long Micah has been kissing me as I slowly slip into consciousness. His lips are most certainly on my neck, his hands around my waist, and his hard body pressed firmly against mine, my wolf blanket covering me. The scent of snow I’ve come to cherish over these past couple of weeks seeps through the cracks of the roof, reminding me that it’s still falling out there, only the whistle of the wind in an otherwise silent, dark void that is the wilderness of Alaska.

Even the wolves, it seems, do not howl as much in the winter.

The fire is out, but the heat lingers.

“Wakey, wakey, sweetheart.” Micah’s deep whisper tickles my ear.

I turn to him and touch his face as I always do, and although I can’t see him in the veil of the night, I can picture his expression as I’ve now memorized every part of him. His dark eyes, his tousled hair I keep threatening to cut, his lips I can’t get enough of, his shadowed face under his black hood. Somehow, he inches closer to me on our small bed, and any chance of sleep is now gone until he’s had enough and merely falls asleep himself.

I’ve come to learn he can never get enough of me. It’s simply a pause for him… To eat, to sleep the bare minimum, before he’s ravishing me once more. So I wait for his approval by being the good girl he wants me to be.

“Again?” I murmur in a drowsy state. Unlike Micah, I enjoy sleep and need it. However, I’d never tell him the true reasons why I sometimes prefer my state of unconsciousness, and it has nothing to do with my lack of senses. If anything, my senses are heightened. I remember things in a way I can’t when I’m awake and with him.

Because when I’m awake, it’s only him.