Page 11 of Fury

“Why do you stick around anyway? Why haven’t you gotten out?”

“I’ve tried to run away, and I’ll try again. The last time I got caught, he said he’d kill me. He realized my dedication to him has tarnished. But I’ll deal.”

“You’ll deal? Why don’t you—”

“I like being alive.” Her voice was firm, steady. “No matter what, I want to stay alive.”

My arms hung at my sides, shame dripping over me like a splatter of paint down a wall. Her confidence in a better day, her desire to live, her bravery, the sheer force of her will humbled me.

Was I like that? I just existed, walked through paces set by everyone around me. She made tough decisions every day. She held it together. She calculated and risked and pushed through.

My mouth dried, my skull pounded. I was coming down again. I needed her on me, her touch, her skin, her mouth, more than fucking food. More than a hit of any chemical. I wanted to feel her tits in my hands. I didn’t fucking care that she could be doing this on their orders. Who the fuck knew for sure? She was my banquet and I wanted to feast.

My tongue lashed against the side of her neck. “Blow me again at least?”

“Once was enough for today.” She drew a fingertip down the center of my lips, and I let out a low hiss. My lips captured that slim finger and sucked. Fuck yes, I was desperate. A monster of need.

“More tomorrow,” she said, her voice low. “When you’re really hungry.”

She was hungry. I could tell by the way her lips parted as I sucked on her finger, how she lingered over me, rubbed a foot against my calf.

I wanted her to be hungry for me.

I released her finger. “I’m starving here. You don’t have to stand on ceremony or keep to some schedule with me. Suck away.”

“You’re funny.”

My pulse skipped at that playful tone in her voice. Was that a yes?

My every muscle tightened as she gently stroked the underside of my balls, murmuring something. I couldn’t hear her, I didn’t care. I was mesmerized by her warm, sure touch, her sultry voice. That voice was heat blooming over my skin from the inside out. My heart raced in my chest, and a cool sweat broke out along my scalp. I wanted to come now, in her hands. I’d do anything she said just to fucking release this volcano between my legs. I wanted to come for her.

I was at her mercy.

“Tomorrow.” Her thumb rubbed at my tip, and she released me.

I grunted. Not happy. “Come on. Wait, wait—what’s your name?”

“That doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Yes, yes it fucking does matter to me. I want to hear it. All this time, and I don’t know your name.” I wanted to know it as bad as I always wanted ice cream on a sweaty, dusty summer afternoon. As bad as I now craved a shower, sunlight, my bike underneath me and a cold wind battering my face.

“Tell me. Give me that at least.”

She leaned over me. “My real name is Serena.”

The syllables cascaded over me like ribbons of silk fabric.Fucking goddess.I was right all along.

“Serena. That’s pretty. I like that.”

A smile flickered over her lips. “You like that?”

Did that give her pleasure? A lift? I fucking hoped so.

“Like serene? At peace?” I asked.

“Yeah. Untroubled and tranquil.” A quick smirk passed over her features. Irony. Weariness. “My grandmother was Italian. It was her mother’s name. I loved her name, though. Eleonora.”

“That’s real pretty too.” I grinned at her. “Never met a Serena before.”

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