Page 70 of Such a Feral Little Lamb
“You want to come?”
“Yes.”
It’s not a matter of wanting. I’m so close, so full, sosafein a way I’ve never been. God, I don’t want to leave. I want to forget about everything outside this room. In here, there are no zombies, no dead or missing teammates, no—
Mason bites my throat and swipes his thumb over the head of my cock, squeezing hard. I cry out. “Don’t drift away, little lamb. You’re all mine.”
His. I amhis. I nod and make my hands move, stroking up his arms and over his chest. Mason rewards me with a softer bite when I pinch his nipples, his hips never slowing.
“This is mine, too,” he says, giving my cock another squeeze. “All of me. Even if you leave, Isaac. You’ll never forget it.”
I won’t. He’s seared on me, and I can’t even pretend to dislike that. “Never,” I agree, the word pushed out on a breath. “I won’t forget.”
Mason kisses me hard, and I come with his hand on my cock, his teeth sinking into my lower lip. My limbs tremble from the force of it, cum spilling over Mason’s hand, and he chuckles when I shout his name.
“Such a good lamb,” he murmurs. He bares his teeth, losing himself to it now, and I lie there and pant and watch him. Fuck, he looks incredible. There’s something animal about him like this, and I like that I’m the only one seeing it, that I might be the only one to ever see it—
Mason groans when he comes, burying himself deep inside me. I know it would be unsafe, but part of me wishes there were no barrier between us. I want to feel him inside me, want to feel it spill out of me when he’s done.
He lets out another laugh and presses his sweaty forehead to mine. I wrap my arms loosely around his back and close my eyes.
“You’ll never be rid of me, little lamb.”
“No,” I agree. I don’t want to be.
Chapter Nineteen
IwakeinMason’sarmsand for a moment, it feels like home. I’m sore, my body sated, and this room might be small, but it’s warm and safe and what if we did just stay here for the rest of our lives?
I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again. Enough of that. I might have let myself get swept up in whatever connection I feel exists between me and Mason—and he might have, too—but now I have a job to do.
Find Dane. Keep the others safe. Make sure we’re all ready to get that train tomorrow.
Mason grumbles when I climb out of bed, so I kiss his forehead before I fumble on the lamp and start gathering up my clothes. It’s five, so it’ll be light soon.
He only stirs when I’m pulling my T-shirt over my head. “What time is it?”
“Quarter past five.”
“So early.”
I can’t help my faint smile. As scary as I’m sure he can seem to outsiders, he’s endearing like this, blinking sleep out of his eyes, hair all messed up. My chest swells at the red mark on his throat. I like that he kept it.
“I’ve got to go and look for him.”
“Five minutes.”
“Mason—”
“Five minutes, little lamb. I’m coming. I’m not leaving you out there alone.”
I sigh but wait for him to get dressed. It takes far longer than five minutes, of course, and I’m not at all surprised when he muscles into my space and takes my face in his hands for a kiss.
It’s slow, the kind of kiss that makes time feel strange and syrupy, and I grip his arms when my knees go weak.
“Mason—”
“We’ll do our best,” he says. “We’ll find him.”
