Page 93 of Heartless Game

Gold and orange light dappled the trees, making the forest glow. As he walked with me, I had to bite my lip to keep myself from begging him to stop, to go back to where we were safe. The forest now felt like our place, and the world outside, even his home, brought the certainty of trouble with it. I wasn’t sure how long this peace would last between us, but I doubted once Reina and his family intruded, we’d be able to continue like this. And I didn’t want to lose this. Didn’t want to give up what we’d found as we’d fucked like beasts all night on the forest floor.

But I would’ve sounded crazy, or needy, and besides, we couldn’t actually stay in the trees, so I didn’t say anything as we left the trees behind, back on Isaac’s property as he carried me up the path to his home.

37

Isaac

My control had snapped like a twig. I was determined to leave it behind in the trees. To be this new, maybe not improved—okay, definitelynotimproved—version of myself. Because that version of Isaac Silver, as villainous and monstrous as he might be, had one thing Good Guy Isaac Jones didn’t have: Tovah.

Every moment from the night before replayed in my head as I held Tovah tight to my chest and carried her back inside. The way she’d tricked me, chained me, teased me. The way I’d chased her through the house and outside. How she’d run and run, and run, until I caught her. How she’d protested at first, until she’d admitted how badly she wanted me, too.

My body only makes sense when it’s with yours, she’d said.

And then I’d fucked her. I remembered every moment of that, the feeling of her impossibly snug pussy squeezing my cock, her gasps, her moans, her cries, the glassy look in her eyes as she’d come for me again and again. I’d fucked her in a dozen different positions, filled her with cum more times than I could count, and even though my body ached and my cock felt raw from all the friction, I wasn’t done. I wanted, needed more.

My body only makes sense when it’s with yours.

Maybe I could freeze time while I was inside her, so I could fuck her for all of eternity without worrying about the outside world trying to destroy us.

But I’d seen the hint of pain in her eyes this last time. It had been too much, and I needed to take her home, warm her up, bathe her, feed her, let her rest. And then, only then, could I fuck her again.

Sounded like a good plan to me.

I carried her, my bashert, into the house, leaning down to sniff her hair and luxuriate in the smell of lemon and sugar, pine and dirt. She smelled likemine.

My bashert.

My destiny.

My soulmate.

I’d called her my bashert. I’d only ever called one other person bashert. And while part of me fought against the word and what it actually meant for me and for us, it felt so damn right. A voice in my head, quiet and resigned, reminded me I couldn’t have a bashert, not with the dark, violent future that loomed before me. But for now, I was ignoring that potential nightmare, choosing to lose myself in Tovah.

“You don’t have to carry me,” she said, sounded worn out.

“I like carrying you,” I told her. “You feel good in my arms, so that’s where you’re staying. Are you really going to fight me on it?”

She sighed, snuggling in closer. “You fucked the fight out of me.”

I grinned into her hair.

Hell, yeah, I did.

Once inside the house, I locked it behind me, making sure my precious cargo stayed safe from whatever might threaten her. Then I headed up the stairs, bypassing the bedroom and the temptation of the bed with the broken chains for the shower.

Placing her carefully on the tile floor, I turned on the shower, testing the water and playing with the hot and cold faucets until the water was the perfect temperature—hot enough to warm her but not so hot it would burn that perfect, lightly tanned skin.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” I said, leading her into the shower and placing her under the spray. As I did, I glanced down for a moment at my own body…

…and spotted what looked like dried flecks of blood on my cock.

What the fuck?

My breathing froze, a nightmare coalescing in my head.

I’d fucked her so hard, I’d hurt her. Tore something, ripped her up inside. Was she in pain and hadn’t told me? Had that not been pleasurable for her at all?

Trying to keep my breathing even, I gently said, “Can you open your legs for me, bashert?”

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