Page 44 of Hollow

“Good.” She smiles. “Me neither.”

She sits up, straddling me on the narrow cot, and pulls off my flannel shirt. Underneath, she’s still wearing her cardigan and a simple camisole. She hesitates for a moment, then slips off the cardigan, too, leaving only the thin camisole. The blue tracery of her veins is visible beneath the pale fabric, the delicate structure of her shoulders.

“You’re still sure?” I ask, giving her one last chance to reconsider.

In answer, she takes my hands and places them on her waist. “I’m sure.”

I slide my hands up her sides, feeling her shiver, but not from cold this time. When I reach the edge of her camisole, I pause, looking up at her. She nods, lifting her arms so I can pull it over her head.

In the low light of the greenhouse, surrounded by plants and the smell of herbs, we learn each other slowly. Her body is both stronger and more fragilethan I expected, responding eagerly to my touch despite her illness. My tattoos fascinate her. She traces each one with her fingers, then her lips, like she’s trying to memorize them all.

My cock twitches. Demanding to be inside her.

Every inch of me wants to give in to that demand, but I force myself to go slowly. She deserves more than a rushed fucking on a greenhouse cot. Especially now. Especially with me.

She must sense my restraint because she rocks against me, the friction making us both gasp. Her eyes lock with mine, pupils wide in the dim light.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” she whispers.

“Maybe I want to be.”

I kiss my way down her body, lingering at the places that make her breath catch—the hollow of her throat, the curve under her breast, the jut of her hipbone. Her hands tangle in my hair, not guiding, just holding on as if she needs an anchor.

When I reach the waistband of her pants, I look up. She’s watching me, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

“Yes,” she says, before I can ask.

I ease them down her legs, taking her panties with them. She kicks them away impatiently, and then she’s naked beneath me, all pale skin and perfection. My hands tremble slightly as I touch her, and I can’t remember the last time that happened.

She reaches for my belt, fumbling with the buckle. “Too many clothes,” she complains.

I help her, yanking off my remaining clothes untilthere’s nothing between us. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes me in, and she swallows.

I can’t take it anymore. I pin her beneath me on the narrow cot. She gasps, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only anticipation, desire. I capture her mouth with mine as I slide my hand between her legs, finding her pussy wet and ready. She arches against my touch, a small, needy sound escaping her throat.

“Protection,” I mutter against her skin, somehow managing one last rational thought.

“I’m on the pill,” she pants. “And I’m—I tested?—”

“Me too,” I say, understanding what she’s trying to tell me. “I mean, I’m clean.” Thanks to The Hunt, The Vault and all theextracurricular activitiesof the island, testing is a norm around here.

She nods, relief in her eyes.

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” she whispers, wrapping her legs around my hips.

I position myself at her entrance, watching her face as I push forward slowly. Her eyes flutter closed, lips parting on a silent gasp as I fill her. The sensation is almost overwhelming—tight, wet heat enveloping me inch by inch. When I’m fully seated inside her, we both pause, breathing hard.

“Okay?” I manage to ask, strained with the effort of holding still.

She opens her eyes, and the look in them nearly undoes me. “More than okay.”

Chapter 14

Briar

I feel every inch of him with every part of me.

I don’t know why I’m fucking a man I barely know.

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