Page 69 of To No End

Beyond the first time with Trace, I had never felt nervous—but something about this act rattled me. It felt wrong and desperate, like we were both clinging to something unattainable. It was frantic with unspoken fear and sadness. I fought back the feeling of tears in my eyes and continued to sweep my tongue across his, running my fingers through his hair, tugging and tilting him to my will.

He pulled me on top of him, encircling my legs around him while his were still submerged at the edge of the pool. He ripped my top open and began to place rough kisses all along my moistbody. I could feel his excitement between the thin layer of my pants, and the familiarity of his body against mine felt like home, like the most comforting thing I’d felt since arriving here. I rejoiced in it.

He palmed my breast furiously, and each time he pinched my nipples I let out a small noise of pain mixed with building pleasure. I dragged my nails along his back until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed the feel of his bare skin against mine. I lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Trace began to rub his hand between my thighs, causing me to grind my hips. He wasted no time in giving me what I wanted and plunged his hand into my pants, meeting my slick core. My small whimpers echoed in the tiny room, and the sound of them only caused Trace to work me harder.

There were no gentle movements. I began to untie his pants to free him of his constraints. I wanted to see him again; wanted to take him in my hands and mouth. I couldn’t take any more of this foreplay, the desire to have him inside me was too great.

Trace picked me up and laid me flat on the hard stone floor beside the pool. He pulled down his trousers far enough to free himself. Impatiently, he pulled my pants off as well, tossing them aside. He spread my legs apart and wasted no time in tearing the thin undergarment from my eager body. It reminded me of all the other times he’d found himself carelessly destroying my clothing.

I gasped when he entered me, reminded of how good this had felt all those times leading up to the day I was delivered to this place. A feeling I thought I’d never have again, from someone I thought I’d never see again. It felt like a fever dream, having him here and now.

Trace pumped in and out of me with fast, shallow movements, and my body arched against the floor, wanting all that he could give me. I felt the stone scraping my back, but I wouldn’t wastetime trying to re-position. Not when everything else felt so good. Trace shifted into slow, long strokes and leaned over me, running small kisses along the side of my jaw till he hovered just above my mouth. I could feel his words flutter against the soft edges of my lips.

“Say my name, for I may never hear you say it like this again.”

The truth of it hurt, and I felt the full weight of what he was requesting. All we had was this moment. There were no guarantees beyond this. We wouldn’t survive if we avoided the reality of our circumstances.

I whispered back to him, “Trace.”

He rewarded me with another hard thrust, but stalled again till I repeated his name.

“Trace, please…don’t stop,” I said loudly, the words now echoing.

He began to pace himself, continuously building my pleasure just like he had all the times before. He knew my body and how to work me so well.

“Trace!” I let out a moan while saying his name again.

I looked up at his face, seeing the scar across his eyebrow and then the dark ink running along both his arms, feeling like I had finally seen him for the first time. His eyes darkened, and I saw a glimmer of the viciousness that lay beneath the surface. Perhaps a cruelty I had never imagined. I tried to ignore the parading thoughts of bloodshed and torture that threatened to consume my attention and distract me from this pleasure.

I wrapped my legs around him tighter, forcing him closer and deeper. With each unrelenting thrust, I screamed his name until I was hoarse and, together, we met our climax. Catching my screams in his mouth as he kissed me. We lay there pressed together, his chest heaving against mine as we attempted to calm ourselves.

I wanted to stay with him in that room forever, or make our way to the terrace and escape together into the night sky, but the very real consequences of doing so loomed silently over us both.

What followed felt like a ritual. Together we bathed in the waters. Trace held my nude body and tilted my head back into the pool, letting the water soak through all of my hair as he gently moved wet strands along the sides of my face. He ran his hands across the scrapes and bruises on my back that had already formed, healing them instantly. I did not know if it was the result of him or the healing waters.

If I’d had a choice, I would have kept them. The pain was a reminder of this tryst that would fade with each passing day. He looked at me with tender sorrow.

I ran my hands along his strong arms, tracing the tattoos with my fingertips now with a different understanding of what they represented. A life he did not choose; one he escaped only by having another chosen for him. I wished for him a world where he did not have to use his hands for violence and revenge. His were already stained, and I feared that for me this was just the beginning. Goosebumps rippled across my skin despite the warm waters.

When I could no longer stand the silence between us, I made my way from the pool and began to put on my clothes. He followed suit behind me until we were both fully dressed again. For a long while, I stood there in his arms while he caressed me gently.

We made our way back toward the dormitories. Our steps were intentionally sluggish, trying to keep a slow pace and relish these last minutes together where we could pretend that we weren’t about to be torn apart by duty, yet again. When he stopped at my door, he whispered, “Be careful. I can’t protect you from everything.”

I placed a gentle peck on his lips. Anything more than that and I wouldn’t be able to tear myself away. I’d make the mistake of pulling him into my room and risk exposing us both.

“I didn’t ask you to.” I squeezed the hand I was holding, let go, and turned to enter my room, closing the door behind me without another glance.

I leaned against the door, exasperated from all of it. I wanted him to believe I was confident that I could take care of myself. I wanted to believe it, too. Ineededto believe it. But for now, I slid down to the ground, pulled my legs tightly against my chest, and began to let out quiet muffled sobs.

I mourned many things that night. I had to let many parts of myself disappear and die. There was too much to learn, to master, and I did not want to be distracted by my past. Despite Trace being here, I needed to treat him the same as everyone else if I wanted any chance of becoming a different version of myself.

A stronger, more powerful, more devious version. I would not leave here the same person I had arrived as. I drifted off to sleep, feeling heavy and broken.

CHAPTER

21

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