Page 97 of Burn for Me

The name echoes in my mind like his voice bouncing off the concrete walls, forcing me to freeze and a shaky breath to escape my lips. Without hesitating, I quickly shove my notepad into my uniform and race across the wall, down the steps, and into the courtyard. I half-expect to hear his voice urging me to slow down or teasing me about my eagerness with his warm chuckle. But it doesn’t come.

As I step into the large area, I look around to make sure my soldiers don’t see me almost in tears from how fast my heartis racing. However, I don’t get the chance to scan the full area before I’m drawn to the base's bulletproof door, which swings open with such force that it sends the scent of the person's clothes wafting in my direction.

I can’t help but smile, knowing that only one person carries a lingering scent of something smoky that makes me melt in the best ways. I no longer think of flames licking at my skin or dolls burning against wood. While I still have flashing memories of his body, sweaty and tight around mine while beams fell, the fear of fire no longer lingers in my mind. Instead, it's the fear of losing him that worries me. But that fear fades away when tattooed arms wrap around my body, and a hand with a skull imprint covers my mouth—not to silence me, but to give me a mask I’m proud to wear.

“Couldn’t get to me fast enough?” I nearly squeal as I leap into Sam’s arms, burying my nose firmly into his neck and wrapping myself around him like a spider monkey. If he was already at the entrance, he must have been running as fast as I was, if not quicker.

“I thought your demons were chasing you, so I was trying to save you.” he huffs with a laugh, his hand tangling in my hair.

“They don’t chase me.” I tease between heavy breaths, leaning back just enough to trace his features with my eyes, searching for new scars or bruises. “They worship me.”

"You're damn right they do, and if a single one steps out of line, I'll take care of them," he murmurs with a grin that I don't get to enjoy as he crashes his mouth into mine. He uses one hand in my hair to tilt my head to his liking while the other wraps around my waist, holding me firmly against him.

“I want to hear the stories,” I murmur against his mouth. He pulls back just enough so I can still feel his lips brush against mine, but he can speak properly now.

“Will you let me watch you write them down?”

He’s always been such a weirdo with his fascination for watching me do things. He steps back, pulling us into the building, but I refuse to leave his arms, burrowing into his neck instead.

“I missed you.”

“There’s no need to miss me when I’ll always come back to you.”

“For better or worse?”

“Till death do us part, Little Devil.”

This is what I’ve needed my whole life—someone to love me when I can’t love myself, someone to give me a chance to prove I’m better than I seem–someone who can take all my bad and cherish all the good. I’ve always needed him.

Whether it was God or the devil, they knew it too. Perhaps they are the same, both aware there is no salvation without damnation.

It's good that he thrives in destruction while I find joy in preservation.

Epilogue

9-2-2025

I did it first.

-Sam

Caspian clearly wanted to show off his accomplishments, acting as if Jasmine hadn’t helped put the place together and I hadn’t contributed to choosing the ring. He ruined a beautiful opportunity to allow me to ravish my little devil once more, leaving me with a short fuse and raging hard-on since Jasmine was in a rush to get dressed.

We were already running late because our training ran over–more like the kids we were training couldn't process simple commands, and Jasmine refused to leave until they did. My knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel due to Jasmine's dainty fingers tracing mindlessly along my leg; I huff in annoyance.

“You can stop pouting; it's not a good look on you.” She teases, and I shake my head. I'm being tested. My restraint is wearing thin. She thinks she is safe from me because we aren't in our quarters? She should know better by now, especially since our little run-in of making her watch the cameras while I railed into that perfect pussy just to prove a point that I didn't care where we were.

“Watch it,” I warn, hissing slightly as her fingers brush against the zipper of my jeans. I pull into the gravel driveway, park the car, and stare at the house. Caspian has done well, but it reminds me of what I’ve become.

I’ve always been second in command, but lately, the base and the team have started to feel more like my own, especially since he has been focusing on his relationship. Meanwhile, Moe insists he isn’t ready to handle such a big responsibility yet. I still make light trips to one specific faction, but those visits never last long. To be honest, I would rather not go there at all. I enjoy being here—home.

The car door shuts, pulling me from my inner turmoil as the scent of jasmine begins to fade from the interior. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to compose myself, before quickly rushing out of the vehicle as another car door closes. Turning back, I see Moe hurrying up the driveway. I admire his physique; it's reassuring to know that he's taking care of himself even while traveling the world. He's taken on the task of managing separate bases and corresponding with the people who need reminders about their responsibilities.

“How was the flight?” My question is simply to try and distract my dick so it doesn't throb out of my pants. He shrugs and steps by my side.Thanks for the distraction arse hole.

I walk beside him, watching the light rain cling to the skin exposed by Jasmine's sundress, and I grin. She has discovered how to embrace her true self—psychotic and tempting, yet elegant and refined. It took me some time to adjust to the little things I didn't know about her, but I’ve stored them deep in my mind, locked away so I’ll never forget.

As we approach the porch, I drop my hand to the small of her back, and Moe shoves his hands into his pockets.

---