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Dread over what that means barrels through me, and I move away from his touch. “Let me go.”
With languid movements, Alex does as I ask, slowly sitting up to brace his forearms on his knees. “It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. It’s normal.”
I run my hands through my hair. “I just need…quiet.”
“You’re overstimulated. Just relax.” He eases behind me, placing me between his legs.
His touch abrasive over my raw skin. I try to fight out of his hold, but he bands his arms around me, tucking me securely against him.
“Trust me,” Alex says, then he slips his hand between my thighs.
It’s almost painful as his fingers swirl over my clit, but soon the pain transitions to that ravenous, lusty need that pulls low in my belly. Alex tangles his free hand in the length of my damp hair, his mouth landing on the sensitive junction between my neck and shoulder.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he whispers across my heated flesh. “I never want to stop touching you.”
My breathing intensifies, my breasts push against his forearm as I claw at the rock.
It happens fast. The orgasm takes hold, my core clenching around the hollow ache as he continues to circle his fingertips over the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Chest loosening, my head goes light with the euphoric little pulses fluttering through my body.
I fall back against his chest, unable to fight the crash. The calming effect is instant.La petite mort. The little death. Some part of me died with Alex, and I don’t know how to mourn it, or if I should.
How can something so tragic be so beautiful.
Alex places a tender kiss below my earlobe. “Overactive nervous system,” he says in way of explanation. “Your brain is trying to sort every new sensation. It needed more pleasure points to map.”
His arms shield me as the water tumbles down the rock face around us. My breathing slows and evens out, my body acclimates to the tranquil water.
I despise every word that leaves his mouth—and yet, he’s the expert. Even when it comes to sex, Alex is in control of the sensations I feel. I tense with that realization and a restlessness takes hold. All serenity shattered.
I push forward and scramble away from the comforting heat of his body.
I lied to Alex. I lied and I felt nothing. I told him his treatment worked. I told him I had these feelings…and I felt nothing about the lie—a lie that was supposed to save my life.
Now, that same lie is tormenting me, because I made it true.
I felt every connected second with him inside me.
“I’m cracked,” I say to myself. Alex broke my brain back in his crude lab, and none of this is real. “I have to get the hell out of here.”
Everything that just transpired between us is all in my very fucked-up head. Wires are crossed. Neurons are misfiring. And it will all end as soon as I’m free of this place and Alex. Whatever visceral disease has infected me, I have to stop it from spreading.
I flee Alex’s arms and dive into the river.
20
ENTROPY
ALEX
There’s a scientific word for the physical and conceptual state of chaos. By definition, entropy is the measurable state of disorder, unpredictability, or uncertainty.
In a closed system, entropy can only increase, therefore the process is irreversible.
You can never return to the state at which you started.
Blakely and I are inside an isolated system of our making. The cascade of the waterfall. The current of the river. The isolation of the cliffs. The forest and night that surrounds, cocooning us in a sheltered haven.
