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I’m going to die anyway. I know Matvei isn’t bluffing.
I might as well die trying to fight my way out of this.
For a moment, I let myself go limp. I let Matvei think he’s won, that I’m too terrified to fight back, and hope desperately that I can do this before he gets the chance to be inside of me again. Everything in me cringes at the thought of that, of feeling him touch me intimately ever again. As his free hand shoves between my legs, his attention momentarily diverts as I feel the brush of his cock against my inner thigh and know he’s lining himself up; I stretch out my hand and grab for the gun, my eyes meeting Finn’s.
His gaze follows my hand, and he sees what I’m doing. One quick look, and I know he understands.
I shove the gun towards him with one hand, flinging it in his direction and praying he can get a hand free—and grab for the knife at my throat.
Everything happens in a blur. Matvei is poised at my entrance, about to thrust inside of me, his eyes glassy with lust and the initial pleasure of being so close to me, and he’s distracted for just long enough. He never thought I’d try it—I can see that in the shock on his face when I dig my nails into his hand, twisting to bite his fingers, feeling the scrape of the blade against his throat as he lets out a shout and drops it—I grab for the knife, lunging upwards.
Gunshots fill the room, deafening me, and I can’t turn to look and see if it’s Finn shooting or Matvei’s men, if my plan is working, or if I’ve just lost everything I care about for a second time. The thought that I could lose Finn, the possibility of it, sends a flood of adrenaline through me as I lurch up towards Matvei, my free hand grabbing his cock and squeezing with every bit of strength in me as I stab the knife towards his throat.
The room smells like smoke and blood, a haze from the gunfire filling it. I feel heat spread over my hands—both of them—Matvei’s blood and cum spilling over my skin all at once as he lets out a strangled shout and bucks against me, his eyes wide with horrified shock. It’s something out of a nightmare—mynightmare, but I’m one step away from victory, and I’m not going to let him get away now.
He splutters something unintelligible, and I feel my lips twist in a wicked grin, sneering at him as I jerk the knife upwards in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” I hiss, leaning in closer. “Was that your safeword? I couldn’t hear it.”
I jerk the knife free, and as blood sprays over my hands, he drops to the floor.
The gunfire has gone silent. I’m afraid to turn around, afraid to see what’s behind me. I’m terrified that I’ll see Finn dead on the floor, and I can’t move. I can’t look. I sit there, kneeling on the bed, covered in blood and on the verge of tears, and I can’t look.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I scream.
“Felicity.” Finn’s voice comes from behind me, low and urgent, soothing despite the horror all around us. “Felicity, it’s me. We’re safe. You’re safe.”
Safe. Nothing about this feels safe, but hearing his voice, I believe it. I believe him. I twist around, desperate to see his face, to touch him, to know he’s real. That he’s not dead. That this isn’t all the nightmare that it feels like.
“Did you—”
“They’re dead.” Over Finn’s shoulder, I can see what he’s talking about—the bodies of the men that were holding them down. The floor is smeared with blood, my ears are still ringing from the gunshots, but I don’t hear noises from downstairs. No one is coming up, and I know what that means, my stomach twisting at the thought of it. Everyone who was guarding us is either dead or too injured to help.
“I have to call Theo.” Finn’s voice is urgent, insistent, his hands smoothing up and down my arms. “He needs to send cleaners, more security to help us with this. Just sit right here, alright? Don’t move. Give me two minutes. Less.” There’s something soothing in the rhythm of his words, and I, who have never wanted to be told what to do in my life, find it suddenly a relief to be given instructions. My mind is foggy, blurred with fear and the awfulness of what just happened, but I can do what Finn is asking me to. I can sit here and not move.
So that’s what I do. I sit there, frozen, my hands numbly trembling in my lap. I hear Finn’s voice, talking to Theo, but it’s hard to make out what he’s saying from a few feet away with how horribly my ears are still ringing. I close my eyes, teeth sinking into my lower lip, trying to shut it all out—then his hands are on my arms again, sliding up, fingers tipping up my chin to look at the cut on my throat.
“I need to make sure you’re alright. Fuck, Felicity—” Finn’s voice is ragged as he looks me over, and I open my eyes, seeing the fear in his. “I thought he was going to kill you.”
“I did, too.” My voice is high and reedier than I’ve ever heard it. “I thought we were both dead.”
“We’re not.” There’s a strange viciousness in Finn’s voice, his fingers pressing against my cheek, holding me there to look at him. “We’re not dead. He is. He’s fucking dead, and I’m glad. I’ve never been so fucking glad—”
“I am, too.” I realize for the first time that Finn is as spattered with blood as I am. “What about you? Are you hurt?” I reach for him, looking at his stained flesh, my fingers sliding down to the waist of the pants he’d only just managed to drag on before Matvei and his men burst in. “Are you—”
“I’m fine.” His hand is on my jaw now, his gaze searching mine with a fervent heat that I recognize, because I can feel it building in me, too. “Felicity, I—”
We’re alive. The thought slams through my head again, beating against it, and I feel a strange, clawing desire that matches what I see in Finn’s face. A reminder that we really are alive. A need forhim—I can see that he needs it, too.
“I need you,” I whisper, my hand reaching up to touch his face, and before I can say another word, he spills me back onto the bed, his mouth crushed against mine.
I can’t get enough of him. There’s nothing sweet or gentle about it this time. This is fierce, possessive,primal; neither of us cares that we’re covered in blood or that there are bodies lying inches away from us. We fuckingsurvived, and everything in me is clamoring to celebrate that. I can feel myself yearning for it, hear the pleas slipping out of my mouth as Finn groans and buries his face against my throat, his hand working between us as he pushes his cock into me.
“Mine,” he growls against my flesh, his teeth grazing my neck. Even if I’m not sure if that can be true, even if I don’t know what happens after this, I can feel myself reacting to the sound of it, to the feeling of his lips pressed against me, sucking, leaving a mark that anyone who sees me tomorrow will recognize. He sucks on my throat with a rhythm to match the pounding of his cock inside of me, my nails digging into his shoulders as I cling to him, pleasure building inside of me at a rapid pace. I can hear both of our harsh breathing filling the air, the scent of sweat and heated skin mingling with the blood and smoke, and there’s something wild in the room, something so fierce that neither of us could fight it if we wanted to.
“You’re mine, Felicity.” He breathes my name like a prayer, his hands hard on my waist, groaning as he fucks me hard. His cock fills me with every thrust, going as deeply as he can, sinking into me over and over again until I hear myself crying out his name, my skin glued to his with sweat and blood, every inch of me quivering with a bone-deep pleasure as I come apart beneath him and keep coming. Every slam of his thick length into me sends me into another spasm of pleasure, my moans filling the air, and I feel his hands wrap around mine, pulling them away from where my nails have dug furrows into his shoulders, holding onto me the same way I need to hold onto him as I feel him thrust once more and flood me with his cum.
He holds me there, throbbing inside of me, both of us breathing hard. I feel Finn’s hand reach up to touch my cheek, and I open my eyes to see him looking down at me, worry wreathing every inch of his handsome face.
