Page 59 of Hollyhocks

I fuck him faster. “Again!” I scream, my orgasm barreling closer to destroy me.

“My cock is yours. I’m yours. Yours and yours alone.”

My tentacles, my suckers, my muscles clamp around him. My ink squirts all over his skin, adding to his permanent mark.

“Fitz!” I cry so loud that I pull myself from the dream. “Are you going to come? You better breed me, Doe Eyes. I need you to.”

“You want to be pregnant with my child, Holly? Is that what you want?”

“Yes. God, yes.” I become louder with my cries of pleasure.

“I’ll give you all the kids you want. Imagining you pregnant…” he growls, thrusting his hips to meet my pace.

I stare down at Fitz. Sweat drips from his temples. His hair is a mess. His tongue is stained. My claws made red lines down his chest. Circular marks are all over his defined torso.

The black tattoo on his skin from my ink grows, veining up to the bottom of his pec while another part wraps around his back.

He groans, the warmth of his come painting my depths.

“Yes,” I moan, drinking him down. “Good boy, Fitz. Good boy filling me.” I bend down to give him a kiss and fall into his dream again.

He wraps his arms around me, covers us with a blanket, and we watch the sunset.

“I think I love you, Wildflower. I’ll be happy if I only ever see you in my dreams.”

“I love you too, Fitz. Your dreams are home.”

My plan has worked, but now what do I do?

I’m not ready to tell him the truth. Maybe staying in his dreams is what is best.

“Ow.” I rub the back of my neck, a pinched nerve causing me pain.

I lift my head, continuing to massage the aching muscles. “That explains it,” I grumble with a yawn, stretching my arms to work out the kinks of sleeping on the sofa.

I don’t typically sleep in the living room but last night with Holly, I felt so relaxed and tired. I have never felt that way before. Even though I have so much to worry about, she still made me feel at peace.

“Holly,” I whisper when it hits me that I did not fall asleep alone. “Holly?” I raise my voice, looking around the room for any sign of her. “Holly!” I yell, standing to my feet.

I check the kitchen, the bedrooms, and the bathrooms downstairs. Running, I take two steps at a time hoping she is in my bedroom. Maybe the couch was uncomfortable for her.

“Holly? Are you okay?” Opening the bedroom door, I’m prepared to slide in next to her. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

Or maybe she can be the big spoon. I love being held. I can’t remember the last time where I was the one being cuddled.

But the room is empty.

She isn’t in the bathroom. The door is open, and the light is off. The house is quiet.

Holly isn’t here.

There’s a sting of disappointment knowing she left without saying goodbye. I plop down on the side of the bed, trying to recall the moment she left. My head is numb. I can’t remember anything. I must have slept like I was dead.

I lie down and stare at the ceiling fan.

Yikes. I need to clean the blades.

Blowing out a breath after a second of gathering my thoughts, I sit up, scratching my bare shoulder.

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