Page 83 of Sing For Us

He is giving me full control of the situation.

Good fucking boy.

I hold his hand up by grabbing his wrist, and I let my tongue slowly glide over his hand. His blood is like sweet nectar on my tongue. Because I’m licking his entire hand, my face gets painted in crimson. His crimson.

Mine. Only mine.

The thought of another woman experiencing this makes me angry beyond belief.

I take his middle finger in my mouth and gently suck on it—licking away the very essence of him. He was bleeding harder than I thought, so there’s a vast supply of blood I can clean up. He is like metallic sin on my tongue as I lap at the wound like a starved creature.

“Fuck it.” Before I can react to his choice of words, he drops his knife on the ground, and slams his mouth on mine. I step out of my pants, without breaking our kiss, and kick them to the side. Noa picks me up, and both of my legs wrap around his hips. He catches me off guard by tackling us to the ground, I had this idea that he would slam me against the tree. I hit the ground on my back, and he wastes no time giving in to the temptation that lives in both of us.

Noa’s strong body doesn’t tower over mine—it presses against mine. His body fits like a glove, and I hate that.

He has one hand in my hair while the other’s touching me everywhere.

His soft, plush lips start kissing mine slowly. The pace is so slow that it’s agonizing. I yearn for him to take me hard, but he’s taking his sweet time. He moans, and I realize that I want him to draw this out.

This kiss isn’t punishing; it’s rewarding.

After weeks of being apart, this is how we treat ourselves.

Is it healthy? No.

Should we be doing this? Absolutely not.

Do I still want to kill him? Yes.

But, do I desire him? My pussy is wet again; there’s your answer.

He pushes his tongue inside my mouth, and I welcome it. It dances in harmony with mine, showing how compatible we are. I want to brace my hands on his bloody shoulders, but I’m stopped. With one hand, he takes both of my hands and pins them above my head.

My defiance turns him on as he gently bites my mouth in between kisses. I let my teeth graze his lower lip as he pulls away, and that earns me a lustful look from him.

If I could drown in his eyes, I would be dead right now.

I’m not trying to get out of his grip—I need to get lost in his eyes. I need to forget about everything for just one second.

I need to be happy for one fleeting moment in my damned life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me as he tightens the grip on my hands.

“Not discussing it with you.” You’d run away because of my feelings.

“Fine.” He lets go of me and takes a sitting position on the soft ground beneath him.

I lay for one more moment and look up at the sky, thinking about how everything is going haywire. Will I ever experience a phase in my life that isn’t clouded with murder, death, and scheming?

Probably not.

I don’t deserve it.

Since I don’t have any desire to wallow in self-pity, I sit up and take a sitting position like Noa. We are so close to each other, and in the same breath, it feels like an ocean is separating us. There is so much left to discuss with him, and I want this mission to be flawless. I can’t afford any fuck-ups because of miscommunication.

But how can two people who are in so much pain talk?

No time like the present.