AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Some strange emotion flickers in his brooding gaze, his rigid expression loosening for a single moment before icing over again.
“You don’t need to try and justify my actions. I should have been stronger for you. I’m fucking pissed at myself.”
No. We’re not going to end the night like this. We can’t.
I sit up, pressing myself against the bars. Warrose can’t help but watch my hurried motion, his gaze switching from one of my eyes to the other. And I catch him off guard, reaching my arms into his cage to latch on to his wrist, dragging his hand up to meet my face.
“I was just scared you didn’t want it, War.” I gently place his calloused palm over my cheek. Absorbing his warmth falling from his skin in soothing waves.
Warrose stares at me with confusion and hesitation glimmering in his amber-and-sea-colored irises. His eyebrows scrunch together at an upward angle. And he doesn’t seem to know what to do with his fingers.
“The gas helped me reach for what I wanted. That’s all.” I lean the weight of my head into his hand, closing my eyes. Tingles race under the area he’s touching.
The muscles in Warrose’s back and abdominals contract and bunch together as he sits up slowly, unable to tear his sharp, piercing gaze from mine. Like a dormant animal stirring awake.
“And what do you want?”
Even though I’m on my knees, he’s sitting up now, towering over me, looking down at me with lowered lashes and parted lips.
“Not what,” I breathe. Out of nowhere, tears swell over my eyes, blurring my vision of him. And I say it in a wet exhale, “Who.”
Warrose shudders as he traps my face in his other hand, pulling me flush to the bars until his lips melt over mine. He…kisses me. Warrose actually kisses me.
Our faces bruise as we push ourselves so close, it’s as if our kiss can bend iron. Command metal to shift. His thick fingers massage into my hair, against my scalp. And his kisses are both sweet and urgent, like we’re under a limited amount of time to have this. To share energy and heat and the thoughts we’ve been feeling since we first met.
He presses his thumb to my chin, and I part my lips for him, opening my mouth so my breath can collide with his. He licks along the plumpness of my bottom lip, and I go weak in his hands, moaning my need to rip these bars from standing in our way. I wish we stayed in the same cage like Skylenna and Dessin. He could have me in his arms, lowering me to my back.
“My god, Ruth,” he groans, smelling like an aged bottle of spiced rum and the fires he used to build us to stay warm in the woods.
The excitement that his voice sparks makes me want so much more. My tongue dips into his mouth slowly, hesitantly. And he pauses, only for half a second before his tongue meets mine, tasting and sensually caressing me with his kiss.
My poor heart. My weak, pounding heart.
But blood rushes other places, too. My legs wobble, my lower belly is scorched with tingles and desire. If possible, it’s so much stronger than the night on that stage. My heart is in this. And we’re not surrounded by stands of soldiers gawking.
It’s only us.
29. The Best Day Of The Year
Niles
I startle awake as the cages open automatically. A stampede of soldiers rush through the long hallway toward the showers, bare feet slapping against the stone floors, bodies of all shapes and sizes bump into each other in a haste to get to the front of the mob.
“Morning,” Ruth says through a long yawn, stretching like a lazy cat.
I respond with an unenthusiastic smile.
As usual, we wait to exit our cages until everyone clears out, starting a walk behind Dessin to start our day. I look around at my friends, watching silently as they have their morning conversations. Dessin grumbles something I can’t hear. Skylenna snickers, giving him a small shove. Warrose and Ruth don’t say a word as they fall in step with each other.
There are far too many snide comments that flow through my head as those two awkwardly steal glances. Brown and hazel eyes clashing. Did he catch you masturbating, Ruth? Or, no morning arguments? They must have fucked! I don’t say anything that comes to mind, pushing them aside so I can keep walking in silence.
Marilynn pats me on the shoulder. “You didn’t wake up in pain last night. That’s a good sign.”
I guess. It still didn’t stop the nightmares. I am grateful that the pain has lessened significantly, but the pity party I threw myself was agonizing enough.
“You okay?” she asks, trying to match my long strides.
I hesitate before answering. Would telling her that today is my birthday make me sound like a spoiled child? Maybe not, but it would make her feel bad. Think about it, we’re in this disgusting, creepy-as-hell prison. What could she possibly do to wish me a happy birthday? What could any of them do?
