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Daisyissorry. I can feel that in every line of her body. I can also feel, from how her head gets heavy on my shoulder, that she can’t stay awake to prove how sorry she is. I don’t need her to, anyway.
I run my fingers through her hair.
“Baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Go to sleep.”
She does. Out like a light, breathing deep and slow.
“You’re the third one,” I tell her when I’m sure she can’t hear. “You’re the last one. I can’t do it again. So you can’t die, okay? You can’t die.”
* * *
“Hercules.”
I must’ve dozed off. I meant to keep watch, but she was warm and relaxed and there was nothing in the room with us.
“Yeah?”
“It’s coming.”
Daisy’s right. It’s weird this time, though. Not a presence in the room, but a looming thing in the distance. Like chasing us through the yard didn’t work, so it’s going to try by air.
The last of the sleep fog dissipates. Daisy trembles at my side, her fingernails light on my chest.
I kiss her forehead. “Are you afraid?”
“No,” she whispers.
It clarifies the trembling in her body. On some level, she is scared. We’re all scared. But it’s not fear that has her so wound up. It’s need. It’s bloodlust. Daisy wants to fight.
I pull her on top of me, and both her hands slide into my hair andhold. She leans down, her teeth gentle on my lip. A flash of pain, then she pulls back. Her cunt is hot over my cock in her sleep shorts. Everywhere she touches me is amplified by adrenaline. Daisy’s touch is the clearest thing in the dark, dark room, but the rush is the same as it was in the field. Our job is to stay alive, keep each other alive, like I’ve done in countless enemy territories. Deserts. Mountains. Rolling plains. The breeze from all of them touches my face when she does. Daisy lowers her hips, centering herself over my cock and adding weight until I could come from the contact alone.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want it to be soft and gentle and careful.” Her voice has a laugh curled into it. Not that nightmare laugh, but a tease that’s meant only for me.
“Baby.” I push my fingers through her hair and pull her down for a kiss that’s twice as hard as the one she gave me. “Don’t lie.”
“I would never.”
“Tell me not to hurt you.”
“No. But…” A little sigh.
“You know I can’t spank you. It would be too loud. I can’t turn your ass so red you beg me to stop.”
She shivers. “You’re mean, saying that to me when you won’t do it.”
“Tell me to do it, and to hell with the consequences.”
“No…” That’s too far in the other direction. I want her to know that Iwouldspank her until she cried. I’d do anything. I don’t care who hears. But there are other factors in play, like the tension around her seizures and the worry that’s palpable in both houses. “Do you have a quieter way?”
Of course I do. “Tell me not to put you over my lap.”
“I won’t.”
