Page 9 of Fury

They wanted me wide awake and feeling every inch of misery, and I was. My skin was needling, I was edgy, impatient, hungry for a sensory overload of any fucking kind and pissed as hell that I wasn’t getting it. My stomach and head reeled with starvation. Peanuts in her pockets and once, a small cereal bar that was more like cemented sawdust were rare treats. There was no real food for me, but there was this, there was her.

“I want you on me, dammit,” I shot back.

I was rabid, foaming at the mouth. A suck and fuck vessel. I could smell her arousal, taste her salty wetness on my tongue already. I knew in the back of my mind, in the tiny rational section that was still functioning, that this was all a game that they had set up, but I didn’t give a shit. Every cell in my being craved that one thing. Craved her.

Any way I could get her.

“I should trust you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“But there’s no such thing as trust. You still haven’t learned that?” Her voice teased but there was an edge of grim soberness to it that I recognized.

“I know.”

She slumped down next to me, her eyes tense. She was uncomfortable, unnerved. She took in a deep breath of air like she had to bolster herself. “They forgot about me again.”

“Good. You’re stuck with me,” I pleaded for my life.

No answer, only her heavy breathing, her feet shuffling.

My scalp prickled. “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

“I’m getting dizzy. I don’t feel too good.”

I twisted my torso toward her, the chains clanking and dragging with my sudden movement. “Hold my hand. Take it.”

A soft hand grasped mine. Her skin was cool against my sweaty one.

My heart thudded in my chest, and I entwined my fingers with hers. “I’ve gotten used to the dark since I’ve been here. I’ll be your ray of sunshine, and you can be mine, how’s that?”

“Kind of silly.” She let out a small laugh, and a ripple of heat prickled through my flesh. That genuine, easy laugh was more than appreciation for a dumb joke. It was a bright instant of carefree in this dark, bleak prison cell.

I’d never take a lighthearted moment for granted again.

I’ll start with right now.

This girl was sad way down deep. An overwhelming urge to relieve her of the heavy weight of that sadness engulfed me. I wanted to make her smile again. Make her laugh. Make her forget her hell for just a second more. Show her the sunshine.

“Take my other hand,” I said. “Climb on top of me. Do it. Come on.”

She straddled my waist and grasped my other hand. I clutched her fingers tight. They were long and thin and cold. Her weight on me kicked up my pulse again.

I flexed my hips up, my every muscle straining for more of her. “Kiss me, sunshine,” I whispered roughly.

She leaned over me.Yes, now, yes. Fuck yes.

Her lips pressed against mine, and a new soft, warm world erupted over me; something smooth and delicate for just a moment. A flower opening its petals in pinks and blues and creamy yellows. My chest ached. I wanted to see those colors again, to feel cool breezes once more. I wanted to be held. I raised my head off the floor, my mouth open, my tongue ready to claim and conquer, but she moved back.

I groaned, my neck aching, my cock raging. “Please. Please, give me more.”

Her hair fell over us, its gentle drape keeping us safe and secret. I inhaled her light and flowery fragrance. That scent lifted me on a magic cloud, and I clung to it.

Lips on mine, unsealing, and soft, not hard, not demanding. Those sweet colors burst behind my lids as her warmth revealed itself to me, growing hotter. She kissed me, her tongue sliding against mine. I was lifted from the dank pit, I floated on the surface of the well, weightless. The two of us.

Her mouth released me. A small moan filled my ears, and her fingers squeezed mine.

“Did that make the dark better for you?” My voice came out low, thick.

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