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Langston thinks I shared one of my most important truths with him. I didn’t. My honesty about Siren didn’t even scratch the surface of the important things I’ve been lying about. But it was a big enough truth to regain some of Langston’s trust. Enough for him to believe me when I say I don’t know what happened when I was darted like an animal and raised out of this cell.
His hand is under my chin, lifting it until I’m looking at him.
“Let me help you ease the pain.”
“What? How?”
He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, so hesitantly like he thinks I’m going to reject him.
I should—just like I should have rejected every one of his kisses. But I don’t want to. His kisses alone are enough to take away most of my pain. His kisses bring my body back to life.
I fall into his lips, demanding more from him. It doesn’t take much convincing. His lips consume mine, his tongue pushes into my mouth, and his hand cradles my neck.
As long as his lips are against mine, I forget the burning pain in my lungs, I forget that we are locked away in a tower, and I forget that this is where we will most likely die.
Langston leans back with a sad glimmer in his eyes. It seems he hasn’t forgotten about our perilous situation, and he doesn’t know how to save us both.
I squeeze his hand, letting him know it’s okay. I’m okay. A soft whimper escapes my lips, as his hand glides down the side of my body.
“You’re not okay. No matter how much you try to pretend you’re not in pain, you are. Let me help you.”
I take a slow, deep breath, trying to keep the agony from taking over my every breath, but it’s impossible. All I end up doing is grimacing and moaning through every breath.
“You can’t help me.”
He smirks. “I can.”
“How?”
“My kisses make you forget for a split second. Imagine what the rest of my body can do.”
I blush, but that can’t happen. I can’t fuck Langston. I can’t even if my body sings to life at the very thought. Even if just imaging him fucking me eases my discomfort, I shouldn’t.
“I’m not fucking you, killer.”
He grins. “I’m not asking you to fuck me.”
“Then, what are you asking?”
He tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m telling you to let me make you feel good. To let me loose on your body. To let me make you come with my hands, my tongue. Let me help you.”
My tongue sweeps across my teeth. My body heats, begging me to say yes. I ache between my legs at the thought of his touch. How many times have I imagined his touch? Wanted it, but thought it could never happen?
It’s a horrible idea. We are already crossing too many lines. Kissing Langston is one thing. Knowing how it feels for him to make me come is another. My body will crave him in an entirely new way—a way I’ll struggle to resist.
“Just this one time?” I ask.
He nods slowly, as his tongue runs over his bottom lip. It’s clear how much he wants me to say yes, even though I don’t know what he’s going to get out of this. He doesn’t get to fuck me. He doesn’t get to feel any pleasure outside of giving me pleasure.
I smile seductively. “You can help me—that is if you are capable of making me come.”
He grins back. “Challenge accepted.”
13
Langston
Liesel agreed to let me touch her. To make her feel good. To make her come.
