Page 42 of Once Upon a Fable
Of her nails on my skin. Of her teeth on my throat. Of her legs spreading as I subdued her to the ground and—
Stop!
My hands shook as I dropped my eyes.
Don’t.
My nostrils flared as I struggled with self-control. I balanced on a knife-edge of staying where I was or launching myself at her.
And then her voice cut through my raging pain. Soft and tentative, grateful. “You didn’t have to do that.”
The shock of her kind tone wrenched my head up. My cock stopped trying to buckle me beneath its command. I sucked in a breath. “Do what?”
She licked her pink lips. “Swap the bread.”
Her thankfulness sent me reeling. No one had ever been thankful. No one had ever used that tone toward me.No one. I cleared my throat, scrambling for forgotten words. “It was wet.”
“I’ve eaten worse.” Raising a shoulder, she half-heartedly shrugged. “I camp a lot. I don’t always make an effort to cook decent food. I don’t care about dirt or rain.”
Was shetalkingto me?
Was this a trick?
Some sort of ploy to make me interact with her?
You’re already interacting with her.
You’re feeding her, housing her, wanting to fuck her.
I balled my hands, distrust overshadowing my sudden compulsion to keep her spilling her secrets.
“What’s your name?” The question was sour on my tongue.
What the fuck?
Why would you ask that?
Who cared?
I didn’t.
I didn’t plan on keeping her around long enough to know why she camped or climbed or didn’t care about dirt.
She was dangerous.
I knew that now.
I couldn’t keep her as a pet. I couldn’t house her during winter and use her body whenever I wanted.
She has to go.
Gritting my teeth, I steeled myself against any other unwanted softenings.
I would carry out the unpleasant task of her demise tonight. Today. This very fucking moment before it got any more complicated.
I raised my hand. “Don’t. Don’t answer—”
“Gemma.” She bowed her head as if coming to the same conclusions I had. Spying a weakness in our boundaries, knowing that the more weconversed, the more connections would spring.
