Consciousness slips backin tiny pieces but the weight of sleep is still heavy in my bones. Soft, warm sheets cocoon around me, feeling like silk against my skin. My head turns to the side, feeling the cool pillow case against my cheek and I smile. For one stupid second, I forget where I am, and then my eyes slowly open.
The room is quiet. My heart picks up in my chest, my body becoming tense. Slowly, I look around the room, taking in my surroundings. My breathing comes in shallow, quiet breaths as I turn to look at the space beside me. It’s empty, the space cold,still made and untouched. Exhaling, my muscles relax before my heart twists a little.
He left.
I should have known better.
Not able to bring myself to get out of the bed just yet, I shift a little in the mattress, my muscles aching in protest. My thighs feel like I just ran a marathon. I’m pretty sure my shoulders are bruised, but that’s not what causes my breath to hitch. The space between my legs is sore, almost burning, but it’s not painful. I rub my thighs together, the memory of him sliding in and out of me flashes in front of my eyes. I bury my head into my shoulder as embarrassment claws at my throat. Karson’s tee shirt brushes against my chin, and I stare at it as if it’s going to bite me.
“Perfect,” I groan.
No more running.
Okay.
I feel like an idiot.
A door softly clicks, but in the moment the sound is louder than an explosion, and I freeze. My heart launches into my throat as I slowly lift my head. Karson steps out of the walk-in closet already dressed, sleeves rolled up his ink covered arms to his elbows. He adjusts the hem at his waist, then his gray eyes trail over to me.
“Morning, doll.” A slow smirk spreads across his face, the rumble in his voice raising the hair on my arms.
Dropping my head back to the pillow, I let out a huff as I squeeze my eyes shut. I hear him step across the room, each one has my heart hammering harder, threatening to jump out of my chest and take off.
His arms cage me around either side of my head, then two fingers graze my cheek, bringing my focus toward him. His gray eyes, normally flat, glitter in the light that streams through the opened curtains.
“Don’t,” I whisper, though I’m not really sure what I want to say.
Look at me? Remind me? Leave?
All of it.
His mouth tips at the corner, as if he heard what I refuse to say out loud.
“You’re awake, and you’re still here,” he muses.
Heat floods my face and I try to look away from him. “Unfortunately.”
A quiet huff of amusement leaves him. “You want to run. I told you…no more running.”
His fingers skate along my jawline before trailing down my neck. Stopping at the collar of his shirt. He rubs the material between his fingers.
“You did,” I try to snap, but the bite falters in my throat.
He chuckles. “I did no such thing.”
Rolling my eyes, I attempt to sit up. He steps back, stuffing his hands in his pockets, watching me with an amused grin. My shoulders lift from the mattress, but only a little before something bites around my wrists under the blanket. I attempt to swing my legs over the side, but the same feeling happens in my ankles. My eyes widen, my heart stutters in my chest, and my eyes snap to him.
“What-” I start, the word breaking in my throat.
Karson doesn’t rush to answer, doesn’t move toward the bed. His head tilts slightly, watching the understanding as it crawls across my features.
“I told you,” he reminds me again, voice controlled and smooth. “No more running. I meant it.”
He steps forward, then pulls the covers down to my stomach. Anxiety claws at me from the inside of my chest. Both of my wrists are bound, black nylon straps wrapping around them. My eyes trail to where they curl around the edge of the mattress andsecure to what I assume is the bed frame. I try to pull myself out, but they only tighten with the movement. I hiss in a breath as my panicked stare lands on him again.
“Same with your legs,” he tells me.
“Karson let me go.”
