Her voice shatters the fog.
“Cherry.”
My whole body jerks like she hit me with a stun gun.
I freeze. Breathing raggedly. Hands in the air. My cock pulses, desperate. But her eyes, fuck, her eyes.
I pull back, panting. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she says firmly. “You’re hurting yourself.”
She cups my face, her palms warm, fingers trembling.
“I can’t let you do that. Not for sex. Not for me. You’re not healed yet, Knox.”
I stare at her, throat dry.
“What am I supposed to do, huh?” The question is rough, almost broken. “Just sit here when my entire body screams for you? I should pretend I don’t want to take you?”
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing with something… different.
Power.
“You don’t have to take anything tonight,” she whispers. “I’m giving it to you.”
She steps back, and I stand in front of her.
“Turn around.”
I blink. “What?”
“Turn. Around.”
I scowl. “Fuck no.”
She steps closer. “You don’t trust me?”
That hits deeper than it should.
I clench my jaw, chest heaving, every muscle in my body screaming to stay in control. But the look on her face… It’s not playful, it’s not a game, it’s the same face I saw when she ran after us. When she killed for me.
It’s everything.
Reluctantly, I turn. Her hands move quick, winding a strip of torn bedsheet around my wrists, binding me tight.
I test it, growling under my breath. “This is fucking insane.”
“Sit.”
I hesitate.
“Sit, Reaper.”
My knees give, and I drop onto the couch slowly. She didn’t tie me too hard.
She steps into my lap, straddling, leaning in, pressing her lips to mine, her hands running over my chest. “You don’t always have to bleed to provesomething, Knox.”
She sinks down slowly, achingly slow, and I swear the world fucking shatters.
