Page 15 of The Reaper

“Not yet,” she added, “when you are a bit better-”

“Hannah. You’re setting me on fucking fire now. I know I hesitated at first, and I regretted it, I’m sorry, but now how long are you going to make us wait?” He reached his hand to the waistband of her jeans. He undid the button and zipped down the zip. She took an involuntary sharp breath, and held on to him.

He skimmed his hand down, over her cotton panties, closer, lower. Then his fingers touched her hot, pulsing clit. Over her panties, he circled. She hummed and closed her eyes.

He was enjoying watching her. She wanted it, physically needed it. Yet he was aware that once they started this, they wouldn’t stop, they wouldn’t be able to go back, it was a one-way road.

“I know you deserve better than this, a quick fumble in a fucking prison hospital bed but… I just can’t fucking stop myself.”

“Don't stop yourself,” she whispered.

With his fingers, he slipped the crotch of her panties aside, groaning himself quietly, and one of his fingers slipped inside her. She gasped out loud. He gasped, too. The starting gun had been fired, there was no going back now. His thumb applied pressure to her clit while his index finger slipped inside further.

“You're so ready for me,” he said, and she was wet. So ready.

“We shouldn’t…” She trailed off half-heartedly. She wanted this, it was clear to see.

“You know you hardly know me, really, by the sounds of it, we only know each other like this…” he slipped a second finger inside, moving them in a beckoning motion, urging her forward. “I sound like I’m a dangerous man, a bad man, Hannah.” The other hand came up to her chin. He cupped it lightly, and then moved lower.

“You sound like you are a good girl. Hannah. Please be good to me.”

She breathed lightly, as his hand closed around her throat. His hand lightly continued on, to the nape of her neck, up into her hair, tenderly caressing. He had the strength to crush her windpipe, he realised suddenly. He would rather crush his own than hers.

She bucked her hips beneath his fingers on her, and moaned, arched closer to him. Her hands came to his chest, forgetting his injuries as she pushed against him.

Pain shot through him, his body jerked.

“Sorry, sorry…” she mumbled.

He pecked her on the forehead, laying back on his bed, but his vision suddenly blurred, his ears rang with a high pitched squeal.

She blinked at him. “You’ve gone grey.” She went to move off the bed, too, again, murmuring an apology, but he held her down.

“Stay where you are. You aren’t going anywhere,” he growled, fighting the faint his body was trying to fall into.

She lay down beside him, she turned onto her side, so her back was to him, so they were spooning, and she could back into him, gently. The blood in his ears reassured him. Her warmth caught him and pulled him back up. He slipped his hand down in between her legs.

He swirled and coaxed gently, moving side to side over her clitorus, catching it gently each time he passed over the centre.His nose was against her cheek, smelling her skin. He dipped down with his finger and again slipped it inside her, hot and wet.

He sunk one finger into her until he could go no further, his thumb now pressing on her clitorus. She relaxed into it, her eyes closing.

He recognised this, he was sure of it.

“Tell me how you want this,” he murmured.

She whispered back to him, “yes, there, keep going, a little lighter.” And he watched and listened, his breathing slow and even behind her, but it caught a little in his throat.

“Yes, yes, harder now,” she said, her body clenching. He did, he followed her instruction, pushing the palm of his hand into her whole vulva, hard. She came, she rocked, she shuddered.

They both lay there, breathing deeply, surrounded by calm. He suddenly realised how quiet the hospital was, his room. A moment of quiet, and a moment of meeting. She gently, subtly snuggled back into him a little.

“When I close my eyes, I see you, you know,” he said, gently. “I see you… on top of me, riding me hard… and it feels… amazing Hannah. I see you, in my head.”

She stroked his shoulder, his arm.

“I don't know if they are memories or fantasies… but they are good,” he said.

CHAPTER

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