Page 41 of Flames

“It’s alright, Little Star.” My muscles sigh at the sensation of having her close again. I feel her heart beating against my chest and breathe in her scent. “It’s alright.”

“I missed you,” she sniffs. “But I miss Sam too. So much.” She stares up at me, her cheeks wet and flushed, her fingers gripping my shirt. “What do we do? The voice said we need Sam, but how can we get him back without putting Tanner at risk again?”

“I don’t know.” I kiss the tears on her left cheek. “I promise you; I’m telling the truth when I say I don’t know.” I move my lips to her right cheek and kiss the wetness there too.

Nova closes her eyes and slides her hands up my chest to loop around my neck. Then she finds my mouth and presses her warm lips to mine. Cupping her face with my hands, I allow my tongue to caress hers. I feel her nipples stiffen against my chest and tug her closer.

Frantically, she reaches for my shirt. She pulls it up over my head and tosses it to the floor, then runs her fingertips over my stomach, following the dips and grooves of my muscles. She kisses my shoulders, trails her tongue over my ink, then removes her own shirt.

She’s not wearing a bra. I put my hands on her arms and make her stand still while I savor the sight of her, then I lower my head and swirl my tongue over her waiting pink buds.

Nova lets out a small mewing sound, then tugs at my belt. She unfastens it quickly and shoves my pants down until my erection springs free. She doesn’t look at it, doesn’t touch it, just presses her hands on my shoulders and stares into my eyes. Fuck me, Kole. Please, fuck me.

For the first time in days, her voice fills me up. With a growl of anticipation, I tear down her pants and her underwear, tug them over her bare feet, then grab her and lift her into my arms. Slamming her back against the stone wall, I hold her steady and lower her onto my waiting cock. She slides onto me with ease, gasping as I fill her up. Her legs tighten around my waist, and I use the wall to steady her so I can hold her hands up above her head.

She fixes her eyes on mine and keeps them there. I watch her face as I plunge up into her, then tilt my hips to find an angle that makes her cry out. Still, she holds my gaze.

A tsunami of pleasure floods my muscles. I try to slow down, try to prolong the inevitable, but when she whispers, “Fill me up. Show me how much you missed me,” I explode. I shudder and slam forward, pressing her hard against the cave wall. I kiss her collarbones, then her breasts, then pull out of her cunt and drop to my knees in front of her.

“I need to clean up,” she says, combing her fingers through my long, loose hair.

“You need to let me worship you,” I growl, nudging her legs apart and bringing my tongue to her swollen clit. As soon as I start to suck on it, she holds my head and grinds forward into my mouth.

I find the right rhythm, the one that makes her start to mumble and pant, then increase the pressure. I sink two fingers inside her, then a third, then hook them forward until she shudders with pleasure.

I work her with my fingers and my tongue. I love that I can taste myself on her. She is mine again, and she always will be. Suddenly, I find it; the right combination of pressure and motion to bring her to the edge. She slams both hands back against the wall behind her. Her knees buckle, and she cries out as her hips jerk forward. I don’t stop until she shakily puts her hands on my shoulders and sinks to her knees.

We are both on the floor now. Her face is flushed, her body beaded with sweat. Sparks flutter in the air around us. She strokes my beard, kisses the spot below my left ear, then leans into me. I wrap her in my arms and hold her close.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I can breathe again.

27

SAM

I peel my eyes open and dull gray light filters past my lashes. Everything hurts. Every millimeter of skin, every crevice, every cell. My hands are stiff. I almost expect them to creak when I move them. Something rough is beneath my hands. I curl my fingers into it and realize it is sand. Half-sand, half-dirt. I groan and turn over onto my back. I stare at the sky for a moment. It is a murky shade of blue. Early morning, clouds are obscuring the sun.

Slowly, I heave myself up into a sitting position, then flop forward. I rub my knees, and my thighs, trying to wake them up. This can’t be a memory; it is completely alien to me. I have never been to this place before.

The sound of rushing water, tumbling down over slick rocks, makes me look up. A lake is in front of me. To my right, a tall powerful waterfall juts out from a cliff. Where it meets the surface of the lake, white foam bubbles and swirls.

Somehow, I manage to clamber to my feet. Pine trees surround the lake and curve behind me, thickening as they become a forest. Their smell reminds me of the cabin, which reminds me of Nova.

I thump my chest hard as if the gesture might psychically shake her face from my heart. It is too hard without her. Too hard and too lonely.

I look down at myself. I am wearing the same clothes I wore when I was taken from her—a black t-shirt and black jeans. They are torn now, slashes in the knees, and across my stomach.

Beneath the gaping sections of fabric, my skin is surprisingly intact. But I feel as if I am wearing a thousand cuts.

“Hey! Down there! Don’t move!” A distant voice floats toward me. I search for its owner but find none. It came from somewhere above the falls. I’m certain of it.

I walk slowly in the voice’s direction, even though it told me not to move. But then suddenly I fall to the ground. I feel invisible restraints tighten around my ankles. My arms are flung back, and my wrists are bound behind my back.

I don’t fight it; there is no fight left inside me now. Instead, I sink to my knees and wait for my next punishment to reveal itself.

28

LUTHER