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Just this one kiss.
I gave myself permission to indulge in this. It wasn’t every day a man kissed me like he enjoyed it and wanted to hear my soft whimpers that weren’t caused by being hit.
He tasted like peppermint from toothpaste. There were hints of something sweet, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“You’re ours.”The words whispered through my head. I shuddered and released a breathy moan as pleasure rushed through me and lit me up. Then guilt flooded through me and had me pulling away from the kiss.
I drew my eyebrows together, swept my hand from behind the man’s neck, and rested my palm on his chest over his heart. It beat steady and strong.
This wasn’t right. Why?
“You okay?” he whispered, catching my wrist in his large hand.
“Umm. I’m having a hard time with my memory right now.” I raised my eyes from his chest to his gentle gaze. “But . . . What’s your name?”
He blinked and cocked his head, confusion crossing over his face. “You okay, baby?” His lips turned up into a corny grin. “Did I fuck you so good last night that you seriously forgot who I am?”
We had sex? Oh geez . . .
I awkwardly nodded and shot him an awkward smile. “Uh, yeah?”
He chuckled, slipped his hand from my lower back to my bare ass, and squeezed. I fluttered my eyes and bit back a small moan from the zaps of pleasure licking along my body. It went straight to my now aching pussy. Following close behind, guilt flared in me.
Why the heck am I feeling this way?
Gently raising my hand from his chest, he kissed the middle of my palm while keeping his soft gaze on my face. “Derrick. And you, my lovely fiancée, are Ava. Please tell me you at least remember my proposal last night because I might have to do it again to refresh your memory.” He smiled.
I nervously licked my dry lip. My breathing picked up as anxiety took over.
Was he my fiancé? I was seriously engaged?
What kind of life was this? I was expecting a better world and not worrying about being publicly bred.
“You’re ours.”
The reminder of the voice from my dream repeated over and over in my head.
Why would they allow me to be engaged if I was theirs?
Why was I even worried about that?
“Hey, it’s okay if you don’t remember. We’ll get through this together,” Derrick said a little more seriously. He released my wrist to cup my face in his large palm.
I blinked and focused on him again.
I nodded and swallowed hard. “Right.”
“Let’s get you in the shower, and I’ll cook you some breakfast while you freshen up.”
* * *
I sat at the breakfast bar in the grand kitchen. It was an open space decorated with fancy appliances and artwork. I couldn’t help but be blown away again by how marvelous this mansion was.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get a tour of the place after my shower. Derrick led me here for some French toast, fruit, hash browns, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It tasted nothing like the food and drink where I came from. They processed everything through factories—sometimes, it exploded, and hundreds of people died. All for the sake of manufacturing food that wasn’t good for us.
Only the rich had food and drinks like this.
“It has pineapple and mango juice in it. Do you like it?” Derrick asked from his spot next to me. I gulped some more of the drink, unable to stop myself from guzzling it down like I had drunk nothing in days. I couldn’t remember when the last time I drank or ate.
