Page 35 of Regressive

His tongue dips in and out, circling. I drop my hands to the counter, curling them over the edge, and snap my thighs shut, the sensation too much, too overwhelming—

“Don’t come,” he says. “Not yet.”

“But—” isn’t that the point? Isn’t that why he’s doing this? To show me how he can make me feel? How much control he has over me?

“Not yet. Hold onto it, Little Lamb.” He lifts his eyes to meet mine. “Hold onto me.”

I pry my fingers from the edge of the counter and skim them over those hard biceps, up to his shoulders. He dives back in, tongue working against my clit. I shut my eyes and dig my nails into his rock-hard shoulders.

“Jesus, you taste so fucking good.”

That’s what does it. That’s what unbinds me from my body, unravels the tight coils in the pit of my stomach. I rise off the counter, and he grabs my ass with both hands, stuffing his face with my pussy. His movements are slow, dragging licks across my frayed nerves. It’s good. It’s amazing. It’s too,toomuch. It’s heat and fire and boiling liquid and— “Rex,” I push against his forehead, unable to bear it anymore. “Please…”

I feel one last touch, one faint press, a kiss between my legs before he rises. I stare at him through glazed eyes, taking in his red mouth and flushed cheeks. He’s always handsome, but right now he looks boyish, like he’d been caught stealing cake.

He shifts himself, grimacing, and I wait for him to take out his cock, to grab me, to pin me to the counter and fuck me hard.

He doesn’t. He opens the cabinet next to my head and pulls out a clean cloth. How he knew they were there is beyond me, but he runs the cloth under the water and carefully cleans between my legs. Without another word, he helps me off the counter and back into my jeans.

“Are you not going to…” I start. He pauses, looking at me. “You know… fuck me?”

“Definitely,” he says, lip quirking. “But not now. Not when you’re drugged,” he says simply. “And not when I’m feeling,” he pauses, “so territorial.”

“But you just—” I shake my head. He’s so confusing. He’s never worried about consent before.

He rests a hand on my shoulder. “It won’t happen again.”

Wait, what? What won’t happen again? Because that… I really want it to happen again. “Rex—”

“Staying out late.” He interrupts me. “It won’t happen again. I made a promise to you. I’ll stick to it, but don’t forget, you made one to me, too.”

I do everything he says.Everything.

I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me out of the pantry, down the hall and out into the warm night. Rex has claimed me, inside and out of Serendee. Whatever arrangement we’ve made, I realize that reaches beyond the bond we made in front of his father and the community as a whole.

I have no idea what that means.

17

Elon

Facing the mirror,I swipe the razor down my chin, removing the last strip of stubble. Twisting my neck, I check to make sure I got everything. I don’t see anything I missed, but what I do see is how fucking tired I look.

Last night had been long.

Anex is determined to expand our territory—pushing for us to make contacts outside of Wittmore University and local buyers. No one inside Serendee knows it, but the rumors about what’s going on behind our walls are starting to gain steam. The word cult is tossed around a lot, as well as scam, con-artist, and charlatan. None of these are good for business or recruitment.

I dry off, patting my face with a towel, then my chest where a few droplets landed during my shave. I unwrap the towel around my waist and hang it on the hook behind the bathroom door and replace it with black pants. In the bedroom, I open the closet and notice a shadow under the bedroom door. I pause, waiting to see if someone is going to knock, but nothing comes. The shadow doesn’t move.

I stride over and open the door. Imogene is frozen in her spot, fist poised to knock. Her eyes stare straight ahead—at my chest, then travel downward. She swallows thickly.

“What?” I ask, pressing my hand to the doorjamb.

“Never mind,” she says, turning to leave. I snatch her wrist before she’s too far out of reach and yank her back.

“I don’t have time for your dramatics today,” I snap. “What do you want, Imogene?”

Her eyes drop to the ground. “I’m sure you’re busy—I can ask Silas.”

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