Page 93 of Fall into Savagery

“Good.”

My thumb came up to the tender skin beneath her eyes. The bags were slowly getting better, but she still looked tired. I wondered if there was still something worrying her. Ever since we got Damien, our entire group had been walking on eggshells with each other—mainly, it was us walking on eggshells around her, afraid that one push from us and she’d break.

Hell, Nikolay hadn’t even threatened to punish her for sneaking out with us to get Damien back, when usually, that would have been the first thing on his mind.

As for me, I was still feeling bad about asking her to stay strong when I should have been strong enough to hold her together when she wanted so badly to fall apart.

I didn’t often feel guilty over my actions, but it felt like I couldn’t do anything right with her these days.

She wrapped her fingers around my wrist, bringing me back to the present. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. I should be the one taking care of her, not making her worry about me.

I smiled. “Would you like to spend the day with me today?” I asked.

Her eyes brightened, and the small pressure I had felt on my chest since the moment she asked me to let her fall apart lessened marginally.

I didn’t know why, but a part of me thought she might not want to be around me, at least not without the other two.

“What are we going to do?” she asked excitedly.

“Whatever you want to do,” I answered. Hell, I could watch paint dry with her and still cherish the moment like the special memory it would be.

Fuck me, but I was everything Nikolay accused me of. Fucking whipped.

I shook the thought away and pulled her up to a sitting position on the bed, taking in her clothes.

Back to her standard pajamas.

A T-shirt, usually one of ours—and in this case, Nikolay’s—and her panties.

“You look absolutely sexy like this,” I said.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling, looking off to something past my shoulder.

“So, better than the nightdress?” she asked drily.

“Fuck, yeah. I see you wear something as atrocious as that, and I’ll cut it up again.”

Just the thought was giving me a hard-on.

I fucking loved seeing her in ruined clothes.

Before she could reply, I leaned down and kissed her.

She whimpered and, like the good girl she was, opened her mouth so I could deepen the kiss, just as I flung the blanket off her.

My hands roamed over her body. I brought them inside her shirt, feeling her soft, warm skin, feeling the fragility of her beneath me. I could so easily crush her.

And yet, all I wanted to do was cherish her.

I kissed her harder, climbing into the bed and crawling between her legs.

My hand found her nipple, and I played with the hardened nub as I continued to kiss her, my tongue gliding against hers in the best way possible.

Her arms went around my neck, tightening it a fraction at a time as if she was afraid I would let her go if she didn’t hold on to me tight enough.

She should’ve known I wasn’t capable of that.

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