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“I know. How has it gotten worse?”
Hercules tiptoes around the question, because describing the nightmares makes it feel like there’s one in the room. That makes no sense. They exist in my head. I am the alpha and the omega of the nightmares. They shouldn’t feel like a separate entity.
He slides his hand between me and the pillows and strokes my clit with his fingertips. “Talk.”
“Don’t want to talk.”
“Baby.”
“I feel them all the time, now. It used to happen when I’d—” How does any of this matter when he’s tilted his hips to push himself as deep as he can get and he’s winding me up with a gentle touch I never thought I’d like? “When I’d be asleep for a while. Late at night. Now it’s all the—the—the—”
“Fuck, that feels good. You have such a tight little cunt, Daisy. Good. That’s nice. Finish talking to me when you’re done. You don’t want to be done? Here. Go again. You can come as many times as you want, as long as it’s on my cock.”
I’m a panting mess by the end of the third orgasm. Hercules resumes fucking me at the same pace, like nothing happened, and it’s mind-altering.
Which is the whole point.
Or maybe it’s not the whole point. I don’t know.
“Finish your sentence.”
“What sentence?”
“It’s all the time, now?”
“Yeah. I can feel it coming. All the…” His fingers are back on my clit. “All the time.”
He kisses my nape, then drags his mouth down to my shoulder. Nips with his teeth. “Feel this instead.”
* * *
I havebruises on my collarbone from where he’s bitten me. Hercules spends an entire afternoon pretending to be sorry about it. He kisses all his bite marks, then kisses them again, then kisses his way down between my legs and doesn’t resurface until I beg him to stop.
That day, the person on the beach comes back.
Maybe heisHercules’s second thing.
Shane chases him down but doesn’t catch him.
* * *
“Talk,”Hercules orders, his hand around my throat, his other hand under my ass. I’m riding him in bed in the lowest possible light.
It still hurts.
I shake my headno, and he pulses inside me.
“Tell me not to hurt you.”
I shake my head harder, letting him feel it in his palm.
“I won’t spank you unless you talk.”
I make myself heavy in his hand and rock on his hips. I love the impact and the burn and the way he always,alwayssays I have to do better if I want anything from him. Hercules doesn’t know that I can hear the pain in his voice when he says it. He doesn’t know thatIknow it’s a caustic, self-deprecating joke. He thinks he’s the lesser one, and he’s not.
He saves people. I hurt people. That’s the difference.
“What do you want me to say?”
