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“Say it,” I whisper as I suck and kiss her clit.
She bites her lip, most likely trying to hold back from screaming my name. From giving into my command. From giving me any control.
Liesel is so close to coming, but I don’t think I’ve won our little battle. She kept her control as much as I battled to take it.
And then, I hear her whimper—the softest, sweetest sound.
“Killer,” she moans.
I grin as I push her over the edge with my tongue. Her orgasm explodes around my fingers and ricochets off the walls of the tower.
“Langston,” she cries as she comes back down, her body slowing from her high.
We stare at each other at the realization of what just happened. We both surrendered some control. We both claimed something from the other.
One of the many reasons we never thought we could be together was because of our joint need for control. We both thought we needed it above everything else, so we chose partners who were willing to give up control in the bedroom.
This changed things.
Liesel’s eyes grow heavy, as I pull her into my lap and stroke her face.
I unroll my jacket that was lying underneath her and drape it over her body to try and warm her. Then I lean my head back against the wall, and I try to sleep, hopin
g that I took away her pain at least for a few hours.
From her soft snores, it seems that I have.
I hardly remember a time I was happier. But I also know in an instant that I made a mistake. I still hate Liesel for what she did. There is no amount of forgiveness that will change my feelings about her sin.
For a moment, I thought Liesel was truly mine. I thought things could change, and I could have her, but it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have touched her, and yet, I don’t regret a thing.
Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my arm. I look up and see a shadow standing in the window as I once again lose consciousness.
14
Liesel
I wake up with a huge smile on my face. I’ve never slept so soundly and content in my life, even though I’m sleeping on a gross stone floor.
I stretch my arms over my head instinctively before cringing at the pain in my side. In my bliss, I’ve forgotten that I’m still injured.
I move Langston’s leather jacket aside to look at my injured ribs. I’m still purple and green and sore, but the pain isn’t as sharp as yesterday. Today will be much better.
Still, I wish I could remember. It could give us some clue of how to escape. And I hate not remembering any part of my life. It feels like I’ve been violated in some way, even though I’ve only been hit in the ribs.
Speaking of violated—my mind goes to what Langston did, and I blush. I’ve wanted to know what it would feel like to have his lips on me for so long. It’s hard to believe that it was real and not a dream—a wonderful reality.
I wasn’t sure we could exist together. We’re both too stubborn, too dominant, too controlling. I was right and wrong. Both of us needing control made it more exciting, made us more equals, and yet for the first time—I felt comfortable with a man when he took control. That’s never happened before.
I roll over, searching for Langston, but find the spot next to me bare.
I sit up abruptly, gripping the jacket to my chest.
The room is dark, but I can see enough to know I’m alone.
“Langston?” I say into the darkness.
As expected, he doesn’t speak because he’s not here.
