Chapter 36, Roberts

  Tiptoeing I reach the foot of my bed and quietly undress. I crouch to open the foot locker, and pull out a clean shirt and, for the sake of chivalry, put on a pair of loose fitting bottoms too.

  The lid to the chest squeaks despite how carefully I lower it. Sarah sits up on the couch. Only one lantern burns low, but it's enough light to see the confused look on her face.

  “Shit,” I hiss. “I was trying not to wake you.”

  Sarah stands. “I should go.”

  “Or you could stay,” I say, pulling back the sheets on the bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  Sarah looks out the wide open doors to the moonlit deck.

  “I usually leave those open. But I can close them if you like,” I offer.

  She doesn’t answer, just walks slowly towards the bed. Floating as if in a trance.

  I step aside as she climbs onto the bed. Then she places her hand in the empty space beside her. “Stay with me,” she says, her voice almost a whisper.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please?”

  Cautiously, I lay down by the edge, giving her space. Arms folded on my chest I stare into the dark.

  “These sheets are so soft,” she says.

  “Picked them up in Thelos last spring, I’ll get you some next time we go.”

  There’s no answer, just the sound of her breathing. For a while, those sounds, and the whisper of the warm wind feel like they might carry me to sleep. But sleep doesn’t come.

  Rolling onto my side, I try to get comfortable without disturbing Sarah. Just as I stop moving she stirs, her hand brushes against my back and stays there. Then her foot tucks under mine. Fuck, who’s feet are that cold? I barely suppress a laugh.

  More time passes, elusive. The way it does when there’s no clock, and no light. Then, finally my eyelids grow heavy, and that floating sensation washes over me.

  Just as sleep begins to pull me under, Sarah turns, trapping my hair as she rolls over. She adjusts again, yanking my head back and I hiss.

  I slowly pull my hair free and pile it above my head. She nuzzles up against me, and her warm breath on the back of my neck sends an uneasy chill down my spine.

  Her hand slides over my ribs, her knees tucking behind mine.

  My pulse kicks up. “Sarah?” I whisper.

  Her voice is tired, so quiet I can’t make out the words.

  “Are you awake?” I ask.

  “Mhm,” she mumbles. Then she grasps my hip, presses herself close, gently rocking against me in soft swells that are barely there.

  And just like that I’m right back on the edge, wound so tight I could snap. But as much as I want to believe her touches are deliberate, that she’s finally ready to give it up to me, her lack of words tells me she’s doing this unconsciously in sleep. I should be sleeping too. And it’s not going to happen when I’m so fired up, so close to her.

  But before I can move to get up, her fingers brush against my skin, just under the hem of my shirt. My stomach flutters. Or maybe she is awake? I roll onto my back and her hand moves with me, sliding beneath my shirt and onto my stomach. She sighs against my ear and I shudder.

  “Please tell me you’re awake,” I whimper.

  She coos, content. But the sounds that come out next are gibberish. Fuck.

  I flex my stomach to sit up, but she reaches her arm around me. “Sarah,” I say, then louder “wake up.”

  She lifts her head startled. “Huh?” She moans then, “Oh.” She flinches and pulls her hand away.

  Propping myself up on my elbows I exhale, frustrated, then throw the sheet back.

  “Where are you going?” she asks.

  “To sleep on the couch.”

  “Don’t. I’m sorry. I— won’t do it again.”

  I laugh, dryly. “As if you have any control over yourself when you’re asleep, clearly you don’t.”

  “You’re upset.” Sarah says, sitting up.

  Exhaling hard through the nose I clench my jaw, measuring my words. “No, why would I be upset?”

  “You sound upset.”

  My face flushes hot. I’m exhausted and my patience is wearing thin. “Well, I’m not, alright? Just—” I take a breath and soften my tone. “I’m frustrated, that’s all. But— that’s got nothing to do with you.”

  Stiff joints grumble as I drag myself upright and lean against the headboard. Sarah shuffles back, leaving a foot of space between us.

  A silent minute passes then, “there’s something I have to tell you,” she says. “About the last time we saw each other."

  I keep my lips sealed and flick my tongue over the jewel in my mouth piece, a nervous habit.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “That day you— took 30 lashes. Do you remember?” she asks, her gaze weighing heavily on me.

  I turn my head to look at her. “Yes?”

  “Later—” She stammeres. “That night I came to check on you and we sort of—.”

  We…didn’t anything. You were playing the same cruel game you always did.

  “I remember Sarah, what about it?” How could I forget?

  There were times I was able to bury that memory, I’d even gone years at a time without it surfacing. Then I found her on that beach and I’ve thought about it every day since.

  “The part you don’t know is that…I came back.” She pauses. “But you were gone.”

  “So?”

  “I thought I’d rejected you one too many times, that you left because of me. Now I know how vain that notion was.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  It’s one thing to be plagued with images of that night when I’m alone, or working, and I can do whatever it takes to shut them off.

  Reminiscing with her, alone, in the middle of the night is the last thing I want to be doing. Especially not when I’m still reeling from the sight of her shattered at my touch.

  “I came back because I changed my mind. I did want you. It’s just—there’s something wrong with me.”

  Sympathy is hard to reach when she’s digging up the past like this. Of course It’s not her fault that she succumbed to the repression when we were young. And whatever is plaguing her now certainly isn’t either. I don’t blame her for it. Doesn’t mean this isn’t painful to relive.

  “You don’t have to explain it to me.” I say, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

  Sarah grabs my arm. “I know how fucked up it was, how I treated you back then.”

  “Really, Sarah. It’s alright, I’m fine.”

  “And I know I’m doing it to you all over again,” she says, perching on her knees beside me.

  She squeezes my hand but I’m miles away. Thinking about the dizzying amount of work tomorrow brings and how I’ll be doing it all not having slept in two days. It’s effective. I feel nothing when her hand trails up my arm. But the distraction is short lived.

  “Let me make it up to you,” she says, taking my hand and placing it on her thigh.

  “What are you doing?” I jerk my hand back.

  “I won’t stop you this time.”

  I balk. “Are you serious?” I stand and she rises too, but I hold out my palm flat, to block her advance. “Gods, Sarah. I don’t know who hurt you, and I’m sorry— but you have to stop this.”

  “No one,” she says quietly. “—hurt me. I just can’t— doesn’t matter. Let me fix this.”

  Sarah tugs at her shirt, pulling it over her head. I can’t help staring at her bare chest, the way her small pink nipples stiffen as my eyes linger on them. But I’m still baffled, heading towards outrage.

  She pulls at the drawstring of her trousers.

  “Stop.” I command, charging forward and gripping onto both her wrists. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Giving you what you want.” She struggles, pulling down hard and testing my grip.

  My fingers curl tighter and ice hardens in my veins. “What…I…want?” I seeth through clenched teeth. “What makes you think you know what I want?”

  Sarah’s eyes lock onto mine and she leans forward, steeling her gaze. She yanks hard again, this time using my hold to pull us closer. And I can’t make myself let go.

  The audacity. I’m fuming. “You want to know what I want?”

  She rises onto her toes and leans into my mouth but I turn away, sneering. I wrangle her wrists together, my fingers sprawling to hold them both in one hand, then yank down my shorts.

  Pausing for a split second I let her search my eyes. Let her see the intent carved into my face. “Do you want this?” She doesn’t flinch, or fight, just nods her head once.

  Thrusting forward, I shove one of her hands between my legs. Her fingers slide easily over the slick folds, flicking past my clit. “Say it.” I demand, pulling my hips back.

  “I—I want this,” she says, breathless.

  Clamping down on her wrist I hold her hand steady and thrust again, soaking her fingers. She sucks in a breath and I pull her hand away.

  “Get on the bed,” I say, releasing her from my grip and shoving her back.

  Sarah stumbles, and keeps moving until the backs of her heels collide with the bedframe. I crouch, pulling her legs out from under her, tossing her onto her back.

  She gasps, taking fistfulls of the sheets, as if clinging to her resolve. I toss my shirt aside and step out of my shorts. My eyes dart to her navel, lower. Then I rip her pants off and shove her legs apart, pressing her knees up to her shoulders.

  Rising up on my knees I leer at her, her pink folds splayed open, arms strewn to the sides where they fell. “Say it again, Sarah.”

  “I want—” A high pitched whine engulfs her words as my thumb presses into her mound. I push upward and her clit rises, exposed.

  Pinning her there I lower myself, slotting into her. Soft skin presses into slick heat and I double over, moaning around a ragged breath. Need courses through me like a raging current as I rut against her, already barreling towards release.

  Say no to me again, Sarah Fieras. That’s right. Mine. You're fucking mine.

  For a split second I have the strength to slam the door on that inner voice, the part of me that wants vengeance.

  “You wanna set me off?” I growl. For once, I let the floodgates open. “You wanna get fucked?” I thrust slower, harder, looking her in the eyes.

  Sarah’s brows knit together and her cheeks flush crimson. I rest two fingers on her lips and she purses to kiss them. “Then you’re going to get fucked, Sarah.” I shove my fingers into her mouth.

  She inhales sharply when I push deeper. Her jaw jutters, like she wants to open and bite down at the same time. Her tongue pushes against me, rejecting the intrusion but I’m unrelenting.

  “Take it.” I demand, my thumb pressing down on her throat.

  I push deeper, the rest of my hand inside her mouth, reaching the back of her tongue. She gags, trying to turn her head, to pull away. But I don’t let her.

  You think you’re too good for me? Think you can play games with me? This is what you get.

  Spit pours from her mouth when I pull out, smearing it over her lips, her cheeks. Making a mess of her.

  “And you fucking like it, don’t you?” You think you’re such a good girl? “Be a good girl and take it."

  Static fills my ears, and my body jerks. “Fuck I’m gonna—” Every part of me contracts, and the air punches from my lungs as I plummet over the edge. Wave after wave my nerves detonate until my arms and core are completely sapped of strength and I collapse, panting.

  Heat swirls in my stomach as my body sinks into her, melting, twitching. I linger there, dazed and leaden. Sarah feels tiny beneath me, her ribs straining against my chest as she siphons a shallow breath.

  She struggles, pushing against my shoulders and the sound of her strangled inhale finally breaks through the haze.

  Climbing from between her legs, I flop down beside her. Shit. I grimace as the flashbacks come rushing in.

  “Sarah?” I reach for her hand. It’s trembling, shaking like a leaf. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

  “I didn’t want you to.” She says, her voice rasping.

  “Still, that was— I’m sorry.”

  “Do you feel better?”

  I pause. Then, “yes.”

  “Good.” She rolls onto her side, turns her back to me.

  “C’mere.” I say, giving her arm a gentle tug. “Please?”

  She hesitates then turns to face me again.

  I reach behind her knee. She leans into me as I drape her leg over me, hot and wet against my thigh. Then she tucks her head into the crook of my shoulder, resting on my chest.

  A breeze cools the sweat beading on my neck and my skin prickles. I shiver, pulling Sarah close.

  She exhales softly as I plant delicate kisses on her forehead.

  “Goodnight, Sarah.” I whisper.