I open my mouth for Norman to take my temperature. They clean up, putting medical supplies back into what looks like a toolbox. Norman plucks the thermometer out and announces that my temperature is high.
“Give her something,” Calvin says, lifting me from the bedspread. After dragging back the covers, he inserts me between the sheets. I can only watch his face sharpen with determination as he tucks me in.
I take two pills from Norman and swallow them gratefully with a full glass of water. “Thank you, Norman,” I say.
“You’re welcome, dear. I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”
“What?” I gasp. “No. Please.” I fix pleading eyes on him, ignoring Calvin’s glare. “You can’t leave us alone.”
Norman looks uneasily at Calvin.
“He’ll hurt me,” I whisper. “He’ll hurt me for running. You don’t understand.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Calvin says. “Turn off the lights on your way out, Norman.”
“Master, she’s not well enough—”
“Out.”
With a comforting smile in my direction, Norman dims the lights. He exits the room, closing the door behind him. When I look back at Calvin, he’s standing next to the bed, untying the drawstring of his pants.
“Oh, God. No,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I c-c-can’t, Calvin, please, don’t make me.”
“Cataline—”
My face buries in my icy hands. “I’m so sorry I ran. I promise I won’t do it again. I’m so cold.”
“Sparrow, shut up and take off your shirt.”
I do as I’m told, inhaling erratically and pulling my arms through the sleeves slowly.
“Your nightgown too,” he says, followed by a deep sigh. As soon as I discard it on the floor, the sheets lift. Calvin’s naked body melds around mine from behind.
He hushes me as I pry at his arms in vain. “You’re still shivering. Let me warm you.” Distrust screams in my head, but my body sinks deeper into him.
“You killed them,” I say against the pillow. “And they shot you. You should be dead.”
“Quiet. Go to sleep.”
His embrace thaws me quickly. I stop fighting and let warmth replace the fear I should have of being wrapped in the arms of my enemy.
34
Calvin
Cataline continues to shake, even after she falls asleep. Or maybe I’m the one shaking. I’m holding her tightly. Too tightly. I force myself to loosen my grip.
A man’s eyes the moment before he dies—that’s true fear. Cataline had that look tonight, but it wasn’t for those men. It was for me. She thought I was going to hurt her for running and hurt her bad. Maybe kill her.
The security tape shows she never hesitated before fleeing. It was without a look back that she left the mansion. And me. While she’ll take any risk to get away from me, including freezing to death, I’m finding it more and more impossible to let her go.
I look down at the girl in my arms and wonder how, after these past few days, I can ever let her out of my sight. Her breathing has evened and her hair, unruly as ever, covers half her face. I brush it off her cheek and touch her forehead with the back of my hand. I ease away to give her space. Instantly she makes a noise and backs deeper into me.
“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath and wrap her in my arms. Jasmine is the only thing on my mind as I inhale it from her hair and fall asleep.
Because of the dimmed lights, the room glows ethereal when I open my eyes again. Cataline’s still secure in my arms, her back sweaty and stuck to my front. Her ass moves against me in a soft, small gyration. It happens twice more, so I lift my head from the pillow. “Are you all right?”
She doesn’t respond, but opens her eyes and turns just her face to me. Her eyes are dark, sleepy blue as she looks at me almost longingly. Without thinking, I lean in until our mouths are an inch apart. When she doesn’t push me away, I press my lips to hers.
She sighs a contented, girlish moan that sends my hand up the smooth skin of her stomach. She backs even closer to me, opening her mouth to let me in. It’s warm and silky. Reminds me of how it feels to be buried inside her.
Her ass pushes into me again, more deliberate this time. I groan and deepen the kiss, taking her breast and squeezing it hard. My hand skates up to the base of her neck to pull her even closer.
I coax her shoulder so she falls onto her back, then roll on top of her without disconnecting. Her legs surrounded me instantly, and we grind against each other. She pushes her head back into the pillow, exposing a long neck that I’m unable to taste fast enough.
My dick slides under the elastic of her mesh panties, fucking between coarse fabric and the smooth hollow created by her hipbone. One hand tangles in her hair and pulls. I hover over her lips, pulsing against her lower stomach, pre-cum sticking to her skin and underwear. My kiss is aggressive, sucking need and want off her tongue before giving it right back to her. I find each of her hands with mine and lace our fingers, raising them above her head and pinning her to the mattress.
My cock is hungry, searching for her pussy with the same fiery urgency as my kiss. Her hands squeeze mine powerfully and her body writhes as I press into her wetness. “Relax,” I say.
“I can’t.”
“You can. Just let go.”
It takes a moment, but I’m patient as her thigh muscles relax, and her grip lessens. Her body slowly melts into the mattress.
“That’s it, baby,” I whisper. She gasps as I inch into her. “That’s good.”
“Calvin,” she says against my lips. “I like having you here, somewhere no one else has been.”
I grunt, my dick throbbing at her unexpectedly arousing words. I begin to slide in and out, willing myself to keep an even rhythm.
“You’re like a part of me now,” she sighs, her mouth still close to mine.
“Keep talking, Sparrow,” I say between thrusts.
Her voice is soft, barely audible. “What it’s like to have you inside, it-it’s—” She squeaks when I plunge deep. “You make me real. When you breathe into me, when you’re inside me, expanding, coming, you make me real.”
I run a thumb over her knuckles. “You make yourself real, Cataline.”
“No. I wasn’t real until I felt you inside me.”
Her words sink into me, dragging my heart down with them. I’m her own personal monster, but tonight, admitting it to myself for the first time, I want to be her hero. I want to plant myself inside her and expand like she said until we’re both real, until we’re both the same. Her moans become more insistent, threaded with tiny wisps of breath. I watch with fascination as she inhales sharply, sucking in her entire bottom lip with her teeth.
I release her hands, anchor her hips to me, and flip us over so she’s straddling me. She stills completely, a lost but endearing look on her face. When I thrust up into her, she cries out, arching her back so her long hair falls over her shoulders. It sways each time I bounce her, and her eyes fasten up on the ceiling, her breasts beckoning me. I reach up and wrap my hands easily around her slim throat, running my thumbs up the underside of her jaw. I pull her face down to mine, rake my hands into her hair, lick the sweat trickling down the side of her temple.
With her small body in my big hands, I hold her fate. I have complete control over her, the power to do anything I want. I keep fucking her, pushing up into her, making her mine, and fearing that life will never be the same after this moment.
She comes, her pussy gripping my cock over and over, her mouth right at my ear, telling me through her moans how it feels. I let go of her head and dig my fingers into her hips as she braces her hands against my pecs. I give it to her lightning fast and with everything I have, thrusting so hard I almost send her over the side of the bed. My hands secure her to me though, and when I erupt, it’s with a hoarse growl from my chest.