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Chapter5
BROCK
One bottle of wine turned into three, because the outdoor cellar isn’t stocked with anything harder.
I suppose I’m lucky it’s not or I might very well have drank myself to death.
At some point during the night, I ditched my shirt somewhere in the forest and lost one of my shoes.
That can’t happen again.
I’d tried so hard to get everything right that I didn’t foresee things going completely sideways. That Lyra could be so sweet and innocent is unimaginably cruel. I don’t want any fucking part of deflowering her or taking away her innocence.
But I’m not in a position to do anything other than stay the course. Sure, I fucking hate what’s being demanded of me, but I’m not the only one who suffers if this goes belly up.
In Lyra’s own words, we need to make this work. I’m not sure what she’ll have to go back to if this doesn’t work out, but it can’t be good.
Then again, our genes are strong, which means that if we don’t mesh, we may get reassigned. It’s stupid to bet on that considering the consequences of being wrong, but what the fuck am I supposed to do?
I think back to all the women I’ve had before. Haunted, bedraggled souls that would do anything to numb the pain of their existence.
They were my drug. The only thing that got me through hard days.
And they meant nothing to me.
That’s not true.
I push the treasonous thought from my mind.
For a time, I was dumb enough to believe it was all going to work out. Lyra is a walking wet dream with her bright red hair and pouty lips. Sure, she was quiet, but it was as awkward as a situation can get, so I understood her reticence, figuring that as our time together grew, so would her chatter.
When she suggested we seal the deal and get it over with, I had no way of knowing just what it was she was giving up. That she still had her cherry.
Sex is necessary in this arrangement, so there was no point in putting it off. I would have done anything to please her, and I set to work proving that to be true. Her pussy was perfect and pink, with two thick lips hiding her sinfully sweet pearl. It was easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
And holy Jesus, she tasted so good, it was like I’d died and gone to heaven.
She clearly liked what I did, judging by her grinding against my face, but when it finally came to fucking, it was a disaster. The look on her face suggested utter terror, which isn’t a kink I have.
I should have known it was too good to be true.
I take a piss at the tree line and see my shoe just a few feet away. After a small search, I give up on finding my shirt.
The last place I want to be is inside that cabin.
With her.
With the fucking screen that will no doubt tell me what a shitty job I’ve done.
The Initiative are rat fucking bastards sending Lyra to me like they did. She’s too good for me. She’s too fucking good for this world. How could they expect a girl like her to carry such a heavy burden for mankind?
But what am I to do?
I close my eyes, and I’m taken back to a time.
“You don’t haveto do this,” I deadpan.
“Stop worrying so much,” Amber scolds. She sits down in a chair and starts combing her hair. Her robe opens ever so slightly, revealing a puckered nipple I long to claim.
