Does It Hurt? by Carlton H. D

Author:Carlton, H. D.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Sawyer

What a little shithead. I did die, and he’s just trying to convince me Heaven is real before he pulls back the veil and reveals a hellfire that will burn me alive.

There’s a flutter deep in the pit of my stomach, steadily growing stronger until the flap of wings has morphed into the breath of a dragon. I’m already burning alive, and only his hand has touched me.

I wet my dry lips, my tongue darting out for no more than a second, but his eyes have latched onto my mouth, the blaze within them powerful. It’s then I realize he is the hellfire.

His hand slides away, and with only a moment of hesitation, I walk past him. I feel him fall in step behind me, scorching a hole into my back.

I coerce my muscles to relax as I walk straight across the hall and into the tiny bathroom. It’s barely big enough to fit a stand-in shower on the right side and the sink and toilet on the left.

Swallowing nervously, he brushes past me to turn the nozzle, the spray stuttering before the stream evens out. The water pressure is awful, which usually calls for long showers.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not yet.

He turns to me, leaning against the wall next to the stall, and crosses his arms. Flicking his sharp gaze down my body, he commands, “Undress.”

Oh, shit.

This got intense way too fast, and it’s almost instinct to heed his demand.

No, Sawyer. Bad girl. He’s mean. He’s terrible to you and thinks he has a claim on you. So what if he saved you? You probably would’ve woken up eventually anyway. It’s not like you were on the brink of death—he’s just dramatic as hell.

My subconscious is screaming at me nearly as loud as the pounding headache, but it all fades away as his eyes heat, searing into my flesh while he watches my hand drift to my t-shirt, moving without my consent.

Goddammit. It’s my pussy in control, not my head. Not even my heart.

This is the first time Enzo and I have truly spoken since the storm, and the fact that I'm already undressing for him is almost pathetic. Though completely unsurprising. Getting naked for him is as natural as it is for myself.

I bite my lip as I pull it over my head, cautious of my injury. Next, I shimmy out of my jean shorts, left in my green bathing suit.

I feel the touch of his gaze as intimately as if he were caressing my body with his fingers.

“Those, too,” he says, voice deeper and huskier.

“These can get wet,” I argue weakly. “They are designed for that.”

He meets my stare, the muscle in his jaw pulsating. The moment he does, a deep throb pulses between my thighs. My pussy aches from a single look, and if that isn’t giving someone too much power, I don’t know what is.

“Take them off. Now, bella.”

The pulse intensifies, and he doesn’t miss the way my thighs clench, though I try to distract him by untying the strings around my neck and letting the top fall.

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