Page 43 of The Last War We Ever Fought

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, cupping a hand over his face. “I just wanted to be with you.”

Pressing his brow to hers, he sighed, repeating her own words, “Don’t do this to me.”

“Do what?” she breathlessly asked, her fingers digging on his back with each thrust.

“Regret making that deal for my life.”

He took her body gently, slowing down, prolonging each and every shiver he created on her body with his touch, his lips, his cock filling her up. Tension pooled in her belly again, moving further down with each thrust, each kiss, at the feel of his palms cupping her breasts, his fingers playing with her taut nipples.

“Elijah, please,” she moaned, her limbs growing restless, reaching and tangling with his until they were as one.

To her luck, he obeyed her silent request, not holding back as he’d had. Their bodies rocked hard, the sounds that came out of their bodies growing even louder, more desperate. She was grateful her tent was the furthest in the camp when she screamed as her climax rippled through her body again, even more viciously than before.

He slammed into her in one deep thrust and groaned in her mouth, nipping at her lips until their breaths synced to a normal pace. “Are we okay?” he asked, kissing both of her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she replied, wincing when he pulled out of her.

Pushing back to his haunches, he looked down at her still spread wide before him, his mouth pulling into a smirk. She might have rejoiced the same as him but she was slightly stunned at the scene, at the blood between her thighs and his cock, and his come seeping out of her.

When she tried to close her legs, he put a hand to her knee, stopping her. “Let me convince myself this happened.”

She quickly pulled on a discarded sheet and threw it over her body, gathering herself tightly under it. “It happened,” she said, pressing her face to her pillow as if it was enough to hide herself from him.

“Regretful?”

“No,” came her muffled voice.

“Then what is it?”

She peeked a look at him, and the blush creeping all over her face was enough of an answer for him because he chuckled.

“A little late to be embarrassed now,” he said, laying behind her on her small mattress and pulling her body to his, wrapping her in a cocoon of his big limbs.

Yes, it was. Especially when she could still feel his come between her thighs and the soreness pounding there still. She’d never let anyone near her body the way Elijah has just been. She’d always been setting in never allowing a man that sort of control over her. But she was enjoying his control on her.

He pressed his lips to her ear. “I plan on making love to you many more times before I’m ready for my death, so you’re going to have to look at me at some point.”

“Don’t call it that,” she murmured, trying not to shiver at his words.

“What?”

“Love.”

“But we didn’t fuck, my little thief. You’ll know the difference when I have you on all fours, your head buried in a pillow like now and your back arched as I bury my cock in your tight cunt from behind. You’ll scream, and no one will hear you asking for me to fuck you harder.”

Her thighs pressed together, and her sore sex clenched.

Elijah’s hand flattened on her stomach, caressing his fingers back and forth her skin. “You’d like that?”

Instead of answering, she buried her face in the pillow again, making him chuckle once more.

Ten poppies

Elijah was not beside her when she woke. It felt strange after waking each day of the past week by his side, sharing his warmth, breathing in his scent, being held.

A pang of disappointment lodged in her chest the longer she waited for his return. She’d never been so jaded as she got herself washed and dressed, her head turning towards the tent entrance from time to time, expecting him to return to her.

The second she poked her head out of her tent, she could sense the shift in the air, the coldness it carried. Yes, coldness. Less than half the fires were lit that very chilly autumn morning.