Sean kissed each thigh, then her stomach, then her breasts again as her chest rose and fell, her breathing rapid. “That—” she began, then forgot what she was going to say.
“I agree,” he whispered, and she felt a smile on the side of her neck.
“Are you smug?” she asked.
“Very.” He kissed her, then rolled over and opened his drawer. He took care of business quickly, and rolled back.
Sean lay on top of her, not using his full weight, but her body began to tense up again, and not in hopeful anticipation of making love. The all-too-familiar panic rose in her chest. She willed it back, hating this awful feeling that she had no control over. She could scarcely breathe, but she’d push through. This was too important—Sean was too important—to let her past interfere tonight.
Suddenly, he reached under her waist and pulled her smoothly over on top of him, her legs straddling his. “You drive, princess,” he said.
She didn’t question; she didn’t want to analyze how he understood what she wanted without her saying a word. How he made it natural and sexy all at once. Her trepidation disappeared and she kissed him. She went slow, guiding him inside her a fraction of an inch at a time. She reached up and found one of his hands, and he clutched her fingers tightly. His other hand held her hip.
She moved to adjust her position and he groaned, his hand tightening on her waist, holding her there. She sank deeper, feeling the perspiration on her skin and his. Her mouth was open, parched, and when his penis jerked inside her, as if it had a mind of its own, a startled sound of excitement escaped; then she softly moaned as she eased herself completely over him, her sensitive spot rubbing lightly against Sean’s pelvis, the wave slowly building again deep inside her.
“Sean,” she whispered, and wondered if she had said anything out loud. Then she didn’t think, only felt as he held her hips, not letting her move.
“Lucy, you’re making me crazy.”
“How?”
“Open your eyes.”
She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to break this magic, where she didn’t have to see, didn’t have to think, only feel. All she wanted was to feel Sean, on her and inside her and with her.
His hand touched her cheek.
“Lucy.”
She reluctantly looked at him in the dark. But it wasn’t completely dark. She saw him perfectly well with the streetlight through his partially closed blinds. His square jaw was firm, but his eyes were staring back with such intensity she couldn’t turn away.
Sean took his other hand from her hip and clasped both her hands, pulling them up toward his head, so she had to lie across his chest. He arched up to kiss her, his skin slick with sweat, his muscles hard with restrained passion.
Her insides quivered and he groaned, his hands tight in hers. While looking at him, Lucy moved her hips slowly, back and forth, the most incredible sensation returning. Was this even possible? She didn’t know, she didn’t care, and she was simply thankful because her body was combustible and she needed to explode.
Sean let go of her hands and reached down to squeeze her ass, hold her still for a moment. She didn’t want to sit still—the friction was incredible, sending small shocks through her body.
She squirmed forward, Sean’s body hot beneath hers.
He whispered, “You do that and this will be a short trip.”
She stopped moving, but then her muscles involuntarily contracted, and he hissed. “I think—” she whispered.
“What?”
“The wave. Again.”
She raised her hips until he almost slipped out, then sank back down. Lucy gasped, stunned and happy all at once, and her body pulled Sean deep inside. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, holding her close, and joined his orgasm with hers.
Lucy relaxed all at once, her body falling across Sean, limp.
Sean didn’t want to move. Lucy was as pliable as putty lying on top of him, a small smile on her face. He touched the corner of her mouth and she kissed his thumb.
“Hmmm?” she said.
He kissed her, then gently eased her onto her side. “Stay.”
“I can’t move.”
“Good.”
A moment later, he crawled naked back into bed, pulling the comforter tight around them. Lucy spooned against him, her breathing already even. His arm around her waist, he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her ear, and vowed never to let her go.
THIRTY-FOUR
The sun has not yet risen. I see snow falling lightly to the ground outside my windows as I rise from my warm bed.
I am calm, as I always am when I end one cycle and begin the next. Though this morning I am not as pleased as I should be, and I wonder about that while I shower.
One reason is that the female I currently have has potential; she learns to obey well. If I had more time, I know I could put her back together the way God intended.
But Lucy Kincaid stole my time. I cannot shake her from my thoughts and my nightmares. I am driven to teach her. She is the most ill-prepared for my instruction. She’s the most defiant. I see it in her eyes, in the way she walks. I’ve been watching her for weeks, and never would I have chosen her as one of my students.
But it is not always up to me. Greater powers are at play. Who am I to question? She placed herself in my life when she sought to send me back to prison. She overstepped her bounds, if she even accepts that she has any.
She will be a challenge for me, a test. God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and as she is merely a woman, I can break her.
I cook my breakfast and eat as the sun rises, though with the dark gray clouds I can see but a faint shift from dark to less dark. I put the leftovers in a bowl.
I cross the worn kitchen linoleum and go down to the basement, as I do every morning. The female is lying in the corner of the cage, under the single wool blanket I am generous to provide.
She looks at me but shows nothing. No fear. No anger. No soul.
I have broken her.
I put the bowl in her cage and see if I am right. She doesn’t move, doesn’t crawl toward the food, though her nose twitches like a cat’s. She smells it. She wants it.
And she waits.
“You may eat,” I say.
Slowly she crawls across the hard-packed dirt basement. There is blood in the corner from her punishment last night. I had given her ointment and a clean towel—I do not want her to get an infection. I’m not inhumane.
I refill her water bowl and leave it with her food.
Her response should please me, but I am not happy. She broke far faster than the others. A trick?
I could give her to another who will appreciate my time training her to be a proper, obedient woman.
But I do not trust her. In the end, they all turn away from the Truth.
She whimpers as she eats.
I sigh. No matter. She’s going to die soon anyway. I don’t have the time to finish her training. Break them, then put them back together the way they should be.
I turn and walk back up the stairs to prepare for the next female.