Page 51 of Lamb

“You’re right; my bad,” I said, sitting down over the snug, curved seat of my bike, her body conforming to mine as I began to buckle into my helmet. “You’re thirteen now, right? Wow, such a big boy.”

The satirical energy was lost as Pretty let out a downtrodden sigh. “I don’t know why I agreed to go with you.” His engine rumbled into the chilling winds, and my own struck up beside it, smothering any more chances for conversation.

I sent one last look at the huge concrete building, the barred windows, and the large storm doors, thinking about the final look on Wolf’s face. It only lasted a moment before I spun on my wheels and headed toward the gate.

Chapter Fourteen

ASH

Ipulled and heaved and …

The lock did not budge.

It stared at me, laughing as it blocked me from my precious poison. The small padlock had been inserted into one of the supporting columns of the stairs, and inside housed all of Lamb’s alcohol supply. I looked at the clock for the millionth time since he’d left this morning. He’d given me a drink just before he had departed, but we were ticking well past my next supply. I had nibbled on the sandwiches he had left me on the counter, the soft bread like wet sand and the cheese like a piece of cardboard, but it was doing nothing for the growing ache in my stomach and the intensifying shakes in my hands.

I felt cold and feverish, sweat trickling down my brow; a mix of the impending withdrawal and my furious attempts to physically rip the padlock from the wall. I hated waiting at this man’s beck and call, depending on the moment he would give me my next drink. My body and mind could spiral if he so wished. It was infuriating.

I grunted, letting go of the padlock and collapsing into a pile on the floor. My legs sprawled out on the tiles, and I shivered as its cold touch sank into my bones.

Darkness had coated the house in a shadowy, murky monochrome. Trickles of light bled through from the lampposts out on the street, giving a golden edge to the sofa, the table, and the few appliances dotted around the room. More than a few, actually.

It was not until I was left to my own devices, and mentally acute enough to explore around the house, that I found no porn magazines or secret stashes of cash, though all of that was digital now, so I hadn’t expected to come across any. Instead, I had come across even more books; how-to’s, guides, and textbooks all explaining something different, from changing a car tyre to beginner hacking and an encyclopaedia on diseases. It was the most eclectic collection I had ever seen, as if he had just up and stole the whole non-fiction department from a library.

Second to that was the number of devices here, there, and everywhere. If there was something designed to shortcut a task, Lamb had it. His blinds were remote-controlled, doors locked with a keypad, a vacuum robot rolled out across the floor, hoovering and mopping as it went. Even the windows could only be opened via thumbprint. It did not work for mine, of course, but it had been worth a try.

I’d debated checking the door lock, but after Lamb and my conversation this morning, part of me didn’t want to know whether he’d left it unlocked. Because if it was unlocked, I wasn’t sure what I would do. And the fact I was debating that was scarier than believing I was locked in here. So, for the foreseeable future, I was Schrodinger’s cat. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I had told Lamb to stop treating me like some pet, yet here I was, tamed and waiting on my mast—nope, still could not say that one—ownerto return.

It was pathetic, and—

The door chime rang through the room, and before I could even comprehend what I was doing, I had sprung to my feet, racing across the dark living room.

Lamb stood, wide-eyed, as I screeched to a stop. He looked me up and down, taking in a quick assessment of my state before his eyes reached mine.

“You are home!” I gasped, elated relief rushing across my chest.

Lamb stood, static in the doorway for a long time, before stepping through and closing it behind him. It chimed as the lock engaged and he put the small bag of what looked like shopping onto the floor beside him.

“You are late,” I growled, folding my arms over my chest. They shook against my ribs, but I did not care. The spurt of energy that bolstered through my chest had a fire lighting inside, and though it did nothing to warm me up, I could not ignore the heat spurring my tongue. “Do you know how long I have been waiting for you to—”

Lips swallowed my words, a warm tongue slipping over mine, a gasp lost in the mix of mouth and moans. His warmth mingled with mine, body crushing against my chest, hands going around my hips and, before I could process, lifting me off the ground.

My fire erupted. One moment, I wanted to rip his hair from his skull for making me wait, and then next, I was bursting with need, anger, and impatience. My demandofhim turned into my demandforhim. My addictive habits, and borderline withdrawal, craved to drag something out of him, something to fill my need, something to calm the raging hole gorging out of my middle.

Legs wrapped around his waist, arms clinging his shoulders, we moved backwards before my ass dropped onto the back of the sofa, legs sliding down to the back of his knees. His headfollowed me, unwilling to break the kiss, the scent of his warm cologne and the sharp taste of mint coating his tongue sending shivers down my spine.

He traced the back of my teeth, exploring my mouth as his hands reached around my neck, cupping my face and holding me in place. His movements slowed, the feverish force settling into a slow, lingering burn.

Satiating whatever demon had taken over him, Lamb slipped his tongue from mine, peppering kisses, capturing my lips again before he dragged himself away.

I was drained, the shivers lost to the burning shooting up from my core. The hole was filled, if only temporarily, with the molten warmth he had placed there, bubbling and simmering from his touches. The only reason I had yet to collapse back into the sofa was Lamb’s hold still secure around my face, one thumb tracing the edges of my jaw, the other soothing over my swollen, wet lips.

“I’m home,” Lamb rumbled, the vibrations going straight down to my vagina, and I almost slid right off the sofa then and there.

“I need you to stop doing this.” I sighed, melting into his touch as a weightless feeling lifted my chest.

“Doing what?” Lamb purred, reaching down to steal another soft kiss from my lips. I found my own trying to follow it, but my body was too heavy and devoid of strength to do so.

“All of this,” I whispered, not liking the feeling of those emotional claws climbing their way into my chest. In my gooey, jelly-like brain, I could feel the lingering weight of doubt dragging me back down from cloud nine to the cold, cruel earth below. “Stop being kind to me. Stop touching me. Stop kissing me.”

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