Page 12 of The Reaper

She paused. That sounded frankly terrifying. She looked back at the glass window into the corridor, the blinds semi open.

“It’s an old prison, Eastward holds a lot of secrets. A lot of people have passed through here…”

“Sometimes I wake up and I’m not sure if I dreamt it, or if it really happened. But sometimes I’m sure someone is watching me.”

Hannah blinked. “Well, this is a secure prison hospital, we have guards, no one could get in here and hurt you.” She stroked him, skimmed his chest again, determined to reassure him. “They are just dreams, you are on really strong painkillers, your brain is trying to heal…”

“Yeah…” he trailed off.

“I know it will be okay, your memories will come, the doctor's here are good, everyone is looking out for you,” she said, trying to sound reassuring.

“I know, I know I'm in good hands,” he said, suddenly more quiet, distracted by something.

He licked his lips and then added, “Hannah, you touching me, just now…”

“Oh sorry, did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay, I’m…” He looked down into his lap, she followed his gaze, and saw. He was hard. His erection tenting the blankets proudly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassed. He tried to sit up and adjust himself under the covers.

“No, don't apologise,” she breathed. She leaned closer, looked again.

“Well, we were talking about important things there and then… Hannah, you touching, on my chest… Fuck.” He tried to sit up further.

She felt heat, in her face, in her stomach, in between her legs, she glanced down and yes, the bedsheets still protruded upwards.

“I know I’ve felt that before, with you, I just know it,” he said, reaching for her face. He cupped her cheek firmly, his fingers lacing into her hair. “I know it’s stronger than I’ve felt with other women in the past. When we kissed the other day...” he trailed off. He tilted his chin up to her now, inviting a kiss. This was music to her ears, yes, yes, could he feel it?

She felt drawn to him, that pull she couldn’t resist. She leaned down and kissed him, with her mouth open, their tongues finding and flicking each other’s, their lips consuming each other. Yes, this was it, she felt sure, this was right. She put her hands on his cheeks, too, into his hair, holding him firmly, unwilling to let go. She felt his teeth lightly bite her lower lip, and she groaned.

“Jesus,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual, more gravelly. His eyes fixed on her and meltingly dark. “Fuck. I wish I could remember being with you.” He looked at her then. “I actually think I do remember being with you, I think I remember… Hannah, I hope this is okay to say… I remember coming, you orgasming, and me, too, together…”

Her thoughts rushed about, arousal coursing through her body. She realised she was breathing and sighing wantonly. “Yes.” It had happened in her dreams, too, of course.

“Sorry, Hannah, I’ve just got a raging hard-on that I can’t seem to do anything about-”

“Can’t we?” she asked suddenly. Her impulsivity shocked her. Head first down the rabbit hole, fully committed.

He blinked. “Can we?”

It hovered there between them, like a curtain, a thin line, and it would take not much to cross it. She had thought about it with him. She had wanted to, she had thought it would entitle her further to him. His touch on hers, as a lover, like a fingerprint, like a signature. Her skin would forever remember him. Butthen, it might mean he would remember never being with her before, and then all of this would fall away from her.

Hannah stilled suddenly. His question. She should show more moderation, more control. She felt she’d pushed too far, too soon. She had never really imagined the physical side of this. She’d just needed him there, a threat for Roper, looming over him, her back up plan, her trump card. But now things were getting physical, she was feeling things she’d never felt before. She was throwing rationality out the window at a rapid rate. This was her place of work, after all. And here she was, her panties getting wetter and wetter.

She had to back down, retreat. “Sorry, you are recovering…” she stammered, looking away, pulling away, she tried not to feel embarrassed. She was pulsing with desire, she felt guilty, like she shouldn’t. But when he phrased it like that, it did give her a reason to think twice. To slow things down. It was almost like he knew he was a dangerous man, and he was trying to warn her. Her core panged and pulsed like it had a heart beat of its own.

He was right to warn her. The Reapers were a dangerous group. She knew she shouldn’t like that, want that, crave that. She did, though. She found all of this arousing. She had claimed this dark, mysterious stranger. Dangerous, possibly so dangerous. Possibly someone who could hurt her. She bit her lip.

She was scared he’d see her guilty desire, the thoughts racing through her head of how wrong this was, how it crossed so many lines, yet how right it felt. She broke their gaze, broke the moment, pulled away.

“Sorry,” she repeated.

“No, you misunderstand me. You want to…” he asked between gritted teeth. She saw movement under the sheets. Was it his hands? Was he touching himself? She was sure she recognised the action, she was sure she could distinguish it. Him gripping his cock, pumping lightly.

“Why wouldn’t we?” she countered, very aware she was playing with fire.

His mouth dropped open just a little bit. He was aroused, no doubt about it. He was curious. A hint of surprise. He almost expected her to say no, he’d expected his arousal to be out of place, inappropriate, unwelcomed. It wasn’t. He had felt embarrassed, in front of her. He didn’t need to, she wanted him to know that.

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