Page 106 of Kortlek

I whimper when his hand connects with my cheek again, the stinging sensation sending shock right in the pit of my stomach. The orgasm builds, and my body starts trembling from the intensity.

My mouth parts, but no words come out. I want to beg for him to make me come, to do something to tip me over the edge, but I can’t find the words. They are stuck in my throat, and it closes up, not letting me speak.

“Is my little slut going to come?” Cove asks teasingly, biting on my earlobe gently. His hot breath ignites something within, the sparks racing in my chest. “Milk my cock with your sweet cunt, bunny. Let my cum fill your womb.’’

My eyes close, and I come, hard. A broken sob comes from my lips, and my body shakes uncontrollably, the wave of pleasure hitting me exactly when I need it the most. Cove bottoms out inside me, gripping my hips tightly so that I can’t move an inch, fully sated in me.

His hot cum coats my insides, cock twitching as my walls clamp down on him, keeping him deeply inside. He groans loudly, throwing his head back and shivering slightly, filling me up to the brim until there’s not anything left.

He breathes out, panting, keeping me in place. Slowly, he lowers me on the table, his cock still inside me. He pushes the hair out of the way and kisses the nape of my neck, his big arms encircling around me, hugging me closely to his body.

My body relaxes as the mix of our releases starts dripping out of me, oozing down the base of his cock. I swallow, my throat dry, and don’t even dare to speak.

I don’t have to.

Cove holds me tightly, careful not to crush me under his weight. Neither of us speaks for a while, but he continues to shower my skin with soft kisses, silently appreciating me. My smile is wide, eyes closed as I bask in the moment, letting the outside world fade out.

“Hey, bunny?” Cove whispers softly against my skin, and I hum, the only response I’m able to give him.

He chuckles, nuzzling in the back of my neck. I can feel his heartbeat against me, loud and fast, trying to get back to the normal pace. Cove swallows, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“We should probably go. I do not want Hudson finding us and cutting my balls off.’’

Well, that’s one way to ruin the moment.

EPILOGUE

Alow hiss echoes in the otherwise silent room, and I bite down my tongue to prevent another one from coming. I’m holding my hand extended, and it trembles under the gauze pad filled with disinfectant.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to think of a happy memory. Nothing comes to mind; it’s completely blank, and I can focus on the ache. The blood around the wound is dry, and it takes him a while to clean it up.

However, I’m ready to bet all of my life savings, everything that I have and own, that he’s pushing the cotton pad deeper into my palm, under the guise of doing a thorough cleanse. He doesn’t say much. In fact, he hasn’t spoken since I arrived.

After Kortlek ended, right around the time Cove and I managed to fix ourselves up, which was half a minute before Mom busted through the door, Dad stayed behind, waiting for the cleanup crew to arrive. Then, as expected, he lit the entire thing on fire and called it a day.

Mom brought me to their house and immediately started scolding me for allowing my palm to be sliced through. She was gone for five minutes maximum, going to grab her first-aid kit to stitch me up, when he appeared.

And now, he’s the one tending to my wounds.

Cove is behind him, leaning against the wall. He didn’t want to leave us alone, not even for a second. He’s still in the Kortlek clothes, bloody, disheveled, and handsome as hell. He’s not saying much, just observing from across the room.

My eyes return to Arlo.

His knee is bent, the box of first-aid kit right next to him. He doesn’t look at me or speak to me directly, just uses the tweezers to rub more of the disinfectant on my wound. At this point, I think he’s already poured half of the bottle just to spite me.

I know I should apologize.

My relationship with Arlo is something I never want to lose. I’ve been regretting the words that hurt him; I’ve been regretting starting that entire conversation. It weighs heavily on my heart, and I don’t know if he’ll forgive me for the outburst.

It would’ve been a different story if I had said something about him, but I dragged Blair into an argument she had nothing to do with, and it wasn’t fair of me. She didn’t deserve it, and neither did Arlo.

I take a deep breath.

“Arlo.’’

He doesn’t respond. He continues to clean my palm, and once he’s done, he puts the tweezers and dirty gauze pads aside and grabs a needle and some thread. My heart starts beating in my chest at a quicker pace, but I don’t get to protest before he starts stitching me up.

I whine, pain shooting through my palm. The adrenaline wore off a while ago, and the wound fucking hurts. It’s my first time being cut so deeply, especially on my hand, and I’m definitely not catching a knife with my hands, ever again.

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