Holy shit. My girl owned her passion. She knew what she wanted, what she needed. Another time I’d punish her for touching my pussy, but not now.

She was wild. Uninhibited. If she needed to play with her clit to get off… this time, I was going to fuck her hard and watch it happen.

Which I did, until I came right along with her and we lost all thought together. It wasn’t the only time we fucked. I’d meant every word about how I would take her. I didn’t want her to ever doubt I did what I said. If that meant using up all those condoms, then so be it.

14

SARAH

After the last round of sex, Huck passed out. I’d fallen asleep in his arms, but only for a short time. My hunger woke me, and it wasn’t for Huck. This time. I slipped on my sleep shirt I’d found on the floor and pulled together something to eat. It was after ten. It was dark out the kitchen window, only adding to the feel of being in a little bubble. Just me and Huck. There was so much outside of this house we had to face, had to talk about. It was coming, and soon.

For now I chopped the peppers and onions I’d pulled from the fridge for an omelet. I was sore in interesting places. My pussy ached, completely unused to being taken so thoroughly. Red marks barely ringed my wrists because he’d pulled his handcuffs out and put them to use on me this time. Fortunately his revenge was to get me close to coming over and over, then pulling back. He was inventive and ruthless and… sexy as hell. And his dick?

“I like seeing you happy.”

I turned my head at Huck standing in the doorway, and I couldn’t help but smile even more. He was in his jeans and nothing else, the top button undone. I didn’t glimpse the waistband of his boxers, which meant he was right there… easy access.

“I see that hungry look in your eye. And it’s not for whatever you’re making.”

I gave a slight shrug. “I can’t help it if you’re so jumpable.”

He grinned. “Jumpable?”

After he took a few steps in my direction with an intention in his gaze that indicated he was hungry for something and it wasn’t eggs, I pointed the small knife at him and narrowed my eyes.

“Stay back until I’ve eaten.”

He raised his hands, but the grin didn’t slip as he settled onto one of my kitchen chairs.

“It’s good to know we worked up your appetite.”

I didn’t respond because it was true—oh so true—and got back to work, finished the chopping, grabbed the eggs, and cracked them into a bowl.

“This place suits you,” he said. I looked his way as he took in my small kitchen.

“Thanks. After school and being on my own for years, there was no way I was moving back in with my dad. I realize now I hadn’t drawn much of a line where he was concerned in my life, except for where I lived.”