Chapter 99
38
JESSICA
There’s a part of me that thinks this is just a nightmare. That if I dig my nails deep enough into my palm, I’ll wake up in my bed. Back home. Whole. Before the cell. Before Riot. Before any of this.
I keep thinking if I stand still long enough, maybe I’ll feel like myself again. Maybe the wind will scrape off whatever Riot did. Maybe I’ll stop flinching at nothing. Maybe Grayson will stop looking at me like I’m breakable.
Or worse–like I’m not.
I crossed a line. Or someone did. Or maybe we all did and now no one wants to say it first. My heat broke. The fever’s gone. But everything else–my instincts, my body, the part of me that still wants to crawl out of my skin–it’s still here.
Riot touched me like I belonged to him.
And some part of me let him.
That’s what I can’t say out loud.
It wasn’t choice. Not really. But it wasn’t exactly resistance either. It was survival. It was instinct. It was need warped into something feral and ugly.
“Grayson…“I said, turning around so I could face him. We decided to watch the sunrise earlier after our fight last night. It was something we should’ve done and I am so pathetic for saying all of those words to him.
When I look up, he looks so tired. His eyes are red and puffy and he looks like he really hasn’t gotten any sleep ever since he rescued me. There’s also a fine line on his forehead now and I wonder how much thinking he does to keep us alive.
“You look like shit,” I murmur, softer than I mean to.
He huffs out a breath through his nose–half–laugh, half–exhale. “Thanks.”
I step closer, even though my chest tightens when I do. There’s still this horrible thing inside me that wants to run the second he gets too close.
“I didn’t mean it,” I say. My voice cracks a little. “What I said last night.”
Grayson frowns as if the fight still bothers him. “Which part?”
“All of it,” I admit. “Some of it. I don’t know.” I rub my arms. “I’m still not… okay.”
He nods like he already knew that. And I guess he did.
My fingers twitch at my sides, and I hate how I am hesitating now, touching his face. “I keep trying to shake it off. Wash it out. But it’s still there,” L whisper. “I still feel him sometimes. On my skin. In my head. Like I forgot how to be clean.”
That’s the part that makes me bite down on the inside of my cheek. I shouldn’t be saying this to Grayson. I shouldn’t be dumping my broken pieces in his hands when he’s already holding so much.
But I want him to know. I need him to know. Because if anyone’s going to look at me like I’m not ruined, it’s him
His hand lifts slowly. Carefully. Like he’s afraid ‘ flinch. And maybe i do a little. But I don’t pull away when his fingers brush the back of my head, his palm cradling me against his shoulder
“Which part of you did he touch, Jess?”
My breath catches.
1/3
Tue, 26 Aug
Chapter 99
$ ཊཱི63%
His hand curls around my jaw, not rough, not demanding–just… there. Anchoring. Thumb brushing my cheek like I might disappear if he lets go.
Then-
His lips graze the bridge of my nose, warm and featherlight. A barely–there kiss, like he’s afraid to startle me.
“Here?” he murmurs. His breath is warm. His voice cracked.
He kisses lower, slow, careful, reverent. The slope of my cheek. My temple. My jaw.
“Here?”
I can’t move. I don’t want to. My lungs feel too full and too empty at the same time. Every place he touches burns–in the best way.
His fingers slide up to my hairline, brushing a few loose strands back, and he kisses just above my eyebrow like it matters. Like I matter.
My senses go sharp.
I feel the wind shift against my back, cooler now, slipping between the trees. I hear water lapping quietly behind us, the lake soft and dark and watching. His hands slide down to my hips. “What about here?” he whispers, kissing the side of my neck. “Or here?”
Tears sting the back of my eyes before I can stop them. My throat tightens, and I shake my head. “I–I’m sorry..”
Grayson pulls back just enough to look at me.
“No,” he says. “I don’t care where he touched you, baby. I will still love you the same.”
I blink, and the tears fall, silent and hot down my cheeks. He just kisses one. Then another. Then my jaw, just under my ear. His breath fans over my neck.
His hand moves to the small of my back. His touch never strays, never shifts into something else.
“You’re not dirty,” he whispers. His lips graze the corner of my mouth, not quite a kiss. “You’re not ruined.”
The words break me open.
I lean in. Just a little. Just enough that my forehead brushes his. My fingers curl into his shirt.
“You’re still mine,” he says, and this time he kisses me for real.
His lips move over mine like he’s relearning every ridge and curve–soft at first, then rougher as his intention sharpens. I taste myself–salt and fear and something foreign under his tongue–then I taste him: woodsmoke, pine, and a raw need that lifts me off my feet.
My hands press into his chest, nails digging through his shirt, sinking in when the movement pulls me closer. I grind my hip against his, and he answers with a bruising press of thigh against thigh, his board–hard length seeking me beneath my jeans.
He lifts me–arms under my knees, back, pulling me flush against him–and carries me toward the cabin door without breaking the kiss. I wrap my legs around his waist absentmindedly, driven by instinct, by the ache that’s been gnawing at me since the night he saved me.
“Mine,” he murmured against my ear. His fingers moved down my thing and I felt him opening me up for him. “You’re mine.”
He thrust two fingers inside me and I gasped, my body arching against my will. His pace was slow, almost teasing, like he was savoring every second. He curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made me cry out.
“That’s it,” he said, his voice dark and possessive. “Let me hear you.”
Grayson’s free hand tangled in my hair, tilting/my head to the side as his lips found my neck. I moaned, my body pressing closer to his as he continued to thrust his fingers inside me.
“You’re so perfect Jess,” he whispered, his voice rough as he added a third finger, stretching me just enough to make me whimper. His lips moved lower, sucking a mark into the curve of my shoulder as his tongue soothed the sting. “You don’t need to think of anything that would make me love you less.”
2/3
09:41 Tue, 26 Aug 0
Chapter 99
๑
M
His thumb pressed harder, circling in tight, quick motions, and I could feel the heat building, spreading through me like wildfire.
“Come on, Jess,” he urged, his voice husky, and I couldn’t hold back anymore, my body shuddering as pleasure crashed over me.
My breaths came in shaky gasps, and I could feel my skin tingling everywhere he’d touched.
63%2
He leaned back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I was okay. I wasn’t sure what to say–what even could you say after that? So I just buried my face in his chest, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t push me to talk. Instead, his arms wrapped tighter around me, holding me together as I fell apart.
+38
09:41 Tue, 26 Aug M
Chapter 100
