“What does it mean?” Kill asked, his tension and animosity mysteriously gone.
“I don’t remember.” I sucked in a breath as his fingers moved to my kneecap, his touch tracing ink after ink while his other hand trailed my scars.
I shivered.
His voice came again. “We met in a nightmare, loved in a prayer. We gave everything until both were laid bare.”
I shot awake, my heart thundering with a connection.
Write it down. Quick. I scrambled out of bed, searching for a pen to jot down the verse that’d come to me in my sleep. My notebook grew week by week as snippets fell from the vault my mind had become, raining onto dry dirt where shoots of newfound hope appeared.
My hands shook as I scribbled.
My mind full of a soul mate I’d lost.
The profound sense of love suffocated my heart. I loved someone who wasn’t real. I’d given my heart to the boy in my dreams. What did it all mean?
Was my nightmare the man between my legs who was as inept at solving my puzzle as I was? Could it be possible?
Cruel fate. Cruel love.
No matter the truth, I couldn’t stop my misbehaving heart beating harder for Kill. For Arthur.
He sat up. His touch went to my foot, capturing it, raising it for inspection. I froze as his fingers traced the tiny proverb I’d found hidden on the side of my arch.
My lips moved with his as he said, “I loved and lost. He loved and found. But they had the greatest laugh of all.”
His voice cracked. Then the peaceful curiosity twisted to anger again. He grunted, “You tattooed yourself with nonsense. Nonsense you can’t even remember.”
I shook my head. “It’s not nonsense if one day it will lead me to the truth. It’s wealth—don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t see. I don’t understand any of it.” His touch turned possessive as he positioned his cock once again by my entrance. I bit my lip as he eased forward, spreading me.
“Enough talking,” he groaned as he slid his delectable length inside me, pulling me higher off the bed and onto his hips. He sank deeper and deeper until only my shoulders remained on the mattress and my hips fully straddled his.
He teased me, pulsing but not thrusting.
“I hate that you look like her,” he muttered. “But I can’t deny you feel fucking good.”
I tried to rock, to encourage him to thrust, but the position he’d put me in was of complete control. I couldn’t peek or cheat. He’d locked me in the darkness with no power.
Claustrophobia clawed a little and I squirmed for freedom.
But then he moved, driving his hips upward and all thoughts of escape exploded from my thoughts.
Pulling almost all the way out, he entered me again, groaning quietly.
My mouth parted as he stretched, then withdrew, then filled me again. Torturing me as surely as any punishment possible. I arched up, pressing my hips harder onto his. But it didn’t do any good.
Despite my predicament and complete subservience to this man, I found sublime peace in having him inside me. He belonged there. I’d been made for him to fill me.
Don’t be so stupid.
I waged between ridiculous notions and the starkness of my reality as he rocked with a mind-numbing rhythm.
There, in the darkness with no words or worries, he was my sanctuary.
His rock turned determined. His voice rained angry around my ears. “Give me something true. Right now.”
I gulped; all hazy passion left my system. My heart filled with fear. So much truth hidden in so many secrets. “I wish I could.”
I wish I could make you believe the impossible.
“Try.”
I gasped as he drove deeper. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
He cursed beneath his breath, his hands clutching my hips. “What’s your name?”
My name?
That elusive silverfish that refused to be caught.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me,” he commanded, rocking harder, making my mouth fall open with bliss.
My eyes flew open behind my blindfold as I sucked in a breath at the blatant beg in his tone.
Need granted me recklessness. “Please, Kill… give me more. I don’t know my name. Don’t punish me for something I can’t control. Just make me yours.”
My heart seized as he jerked. His cock slid ever deeper, making us both groan. He pressed down on my belly, keeping me pinned. “You’ll never be mine. I don’t want you to be mine.”
Pain splashed from my soul to my heart.
I don’t want you.
How was this man so much more broken than me? So blinded to a life where he wasn’t living, merely existing?
I waited—for what? An apology? Something to heal the agony he’d caused. But nothing came.
I resorted to living with questions.
I hoped with all my soul that I would find the truth before this nightmare was over.
I expected him to use me roughly—to take me hard. But he just kept up his mind-numbing rock while my skin itched for contact. He pushed me off him, withdrawing his hard heat.
I felt empty as he unlocked the spreader bar, allowing my arms to come together. Flipping me onto my belly, he pressed himself over me.
I sighed with relief to have his weight blanketed, then gasped in delight as he slid deep inside. His stomach pressed against my ass every time he thrust.
I wanted more. I wanted his hands on me. His lips on mine.
It was a hopeless wish.
Then a whisper-soft kiss landed on my shoulder blade—so fleeting I would’ve missed it if my senses weren’t on overload with awareness. A single kiss planted almost fearfully on my flesh with a touch so loving, so adoring, a small sob erupted up my throat.