After Ryan's lips leave mine, I feel as empty as a shell, already missing his mouth on mine. He is leaning further back on the couch, giving me space, but I can still feel his breath on my skin.
Cautiously, I lift my chin to examine his face, and the picture stops my heart. What I observe isn't the emotionless man with storms brewing behind his eyes; I see the passion and the flames—his eyes are almost entirely black.
I barely dare to breathe. I'm afraid of the lustful expression on Ryan's face, terrified of where this might lead since I know we both want each other. The atmosphere is electric. And my pulse is already elevating at the thought of kissing him again, but I'm also afraid, scared his kiss might not have meant anything romantic.
"What did that kiss mean?" Embarrassingly enough, my voice comes out like a hoarse whisper, still weak from whatever drug I was injected with.
Ryan, however, doesn't seem to mind, something resembling curiosity flar
Ryan Dinner had Amelia passing out almost directly—the tiny terror is snoring on the couch, collapsed with both her arms and legs akimbo. She is rather cute, but I have a feeling she would attempt to murder me in my sleep if I gave her such a compliment. To be honest, Amelia isn't the type of woman I would go for if I were looking for a one-nightstand. Usually, I'm into tall girls with perky breasts and lush lips, while Amelia is short and kinda flatchested. Yet Amelia makes me hornier than anyone else. Her voice is sick—breathy and a bit hoarse. Mesmeric. Thinking about how it would sound having her cry out my name into the wind keeps me up at night. I'm so screwed. And not only that, but Amelia comes with this natural beauty that makes her hard to forget. Without wearing an ounce of makeup, her eyes glow in this shade of emerald green that makes it seem as though she can look straight into your soul, and while she is skinny, her ass is volup
Ryan Darkness has fallen, and I'm alone inside my cabin, staring at my demonic reflection in the mirror. My fingers are busy fixing my bowtie, and once satisfied, I smirk in reward. I'm dressed in a black suit, feeling like a modern grim reaper; even my eyes are fermenting storms because I mean business when the fedora is on. Hatred, revenge, calamity, and judgment, only ugly emotions and thoughts rummage through my head. I'm not a good man, probably colder than the devil himself, but I care about those closest to me. And if I could choose between selling my soul to him down there or saving the ones I love, I would go with the first option every day of the week. A knock sounds on the door, and I turn around with a cruel smile—it seems Giovani has arrived with Felicia. I walk to open the door, fascinated with the fantastic view of Felicia down on her knees on my porch. Giovani is standing behind her, keeping her up by holding her hair with his
Amelia"What do you mean Ryan will tie Felicia to a damn chair and have her hover right above the infected?! And how can you be okay with this? Are you mad?!"I'm boiling with rage and glaring at Courtney with fire in my eyes. Talking hurts my throat, especially yelling, but I have to speak up! Violence in any form is not tolerable in my eyes.It doesn't matter that Felicia hurt me; she shouldn't be tormented for it! The girl is sick in the head—what she needs is a psychologist or whoever crazy people talk with!"I didn't think it would upset you!" Courtney is sitting in Ryan's kitchen and tapping the empty chair next to her. She looks too unbothered for my liking. "It will be over soon anyway; why won't you take a seat?"Maybe I should?Since when have Ryan listened to me anyway?First, I freeze up at Courtney's words and drift forward like a ghost. I'm about to sit down, but then I shake my head. "I can't sit down while Ryan is out
Zoya I was born in Sweden, but people often ask me where I come from, thinking just because I'm a woman of color, I can't possibly have been born and raised here. And as a person, I rarely show emotion. I'm a force of nature, an assassin trained to kill. There are no friends on the battlefield called life, and I don't trust anyone. I was handed a knife at three and hired to protect lady Felicia from a young age, but today, I'm putting an end to that. I'm standing in the courtyard, locking my eyes on the scene taking place on the wall. Giovani is removing the duct tape from Felicia's lips, and then I hear her piercing scream. It sets my heart in motion until I can no longer breathe. I did this to Felicia, to my master, but the reason I'm horrified is that of my lack of tears. I wrap my arms around me, and then I stand there, hugging myself while the snow circles down from the sky. In my eyes, the white color has turned to red. Am I even
Amelia The scent of firewood is drifting through the cabin. I'm sitting next to Ryan on the couch, wearing nothing but my nightgown. Neither one of us is speaking. Instead, I'm staring at my naked feet and listening to the universe laugh at me. Ryan inhales deeply and glances down at me. His fingers are centimeters away from my thighs, resting on the couch. "Are you mad at me?" His question cuts into me like a knife, and I pull my lips into my mouth, already breaking apart at what I'm going to say. I've always believed myself to be an angel, but it seems even someone like me is flawed and just as ugly as everyone else. "No, I'm not mad at you." I meet his blue, concerned eyes with a sad smile. This will be a tremendous step for us. I'm about to pour out my heart, and it's not easy giving someone your complete trust. "I should be mad at you, but..." I have to bite my lips to hold back my tears. "Felicia hurt me, again and again with that knife, and...
My thoughts are too hazy and many to make sense of. So I give them up when more fireworks go off within me. Unable to control my body, I throw my head back on the couch, relishing the assault of Ryan's skilled tongue on my clit. God, I'm so wet and slick for him. I'm actually feeling light-headed—fainting is a possibility. Ryan's palms are stroking my waist, and he lifts his head, flashes me a sexy grin, and dips down again, adding more force to his tongue. I lift my bottom in response and moan when his tongue finds that burning, delicious spot. Fuck me. I'm squirming beneath him, bathing in my own sweat. His mouth is like a drug, and I'm the dirty junkie—I can't get enough of this man! "It feels... Too good..." My voice sounds too animalistic to be mine, breathier than ever. Something is building up within me, but Ryan is the devil; he stops licking me as if he knows precisely what is happening. "What do you want, Amelia?" He is kissing a pat
Ryan's arms are gently squeezing me. His breaths are slow, heavy, and at peace; meanwhile, my heart is galloping inside my chest. I'm too curious and renewed by our lovemaking to fall asleep. So instead, I turn around on the couch, facing Ryan. Thick eyelashes are fanned out on his cheeks, brown hair is dangling over his shaped eyebrows, and the side of his face is resting on his huge bicep. He looks gorgeous, and I feel butterflies swarm my insides when he opens his eyes to faintly smile at me. "Can't sleep?" Ryan's eyes are locked on my face. He looks tired but is keeping himself awake. I chew on my bottom lip with a smile of my own. "I have too many questions," "Ask away..." "The questions will be rather deep, and some you might get angry with me hearing," Ryan chuckles. He is simply stunning. Taking him in, the air rush out of my lungs, and my heart kicks up speed. Those curling lips combined with that glint in his eye are enough t
Zoya Some people claim we overthink and feel too little, and in my case, that would be correct. After some thinking through the night, I know that I can't stay here if I ever want to sleep again. It doesn't matter that I get butterflies when Billy winks at me, he is taken, and my mind is set on survival; therefore, I need to get out of here. I'm sitting in Billy's hallway, putting on my shoes to the sound of birdsong coming from outside. It's such a pleasant sound in comparison to what I heard last night. The sound of Courtney moaning will haunt me forever; Billy pounded into her all night. The two of them were busy destroying his entire second floor. Disturbing squeals filled my ears all night, and nothing could muffle out the sound of Courtney; her animalistic sounds reached me even when I was trying to hide under my blanket. So even though becoming Billy's bodyguard is an exciting offer, I won't ever be able to sleep inside this cabin, not
Ryan My memory is foggy. The last thing I remember is that uncomfortable hospital bed with my five grandkids crying and holding my hands. Maeve was smiling sadly from a chair in the far back, and Wyatt leaned in to whisper: "I love you, dad." Did I die? I glance down at my hands, oddly aware that I'm not dreaming. My wrinkles are there, but my back pain is gone. How peculiar. What is this place? I've never been here before, yet I feel at ease. And the air is so fresh, like apples, a rainy day, and the ocean breeze combined. Breathing it in is like experiencing a rebirth, and I look ahead, wondering what I might find if I keep walking. Carefully, I walk forward, lifting my head to be blown away by the waterfalls crashing down and landing nowhere. "This place sure is beautiful... Like a dream..." The sky is darker than black, but the flowers on the floor, growing on the walls of the mountain in clutches—they are glowing in these
Maeve We have spent one week in the hybrid village. I haven't recovered entirely yet, and I'm not sure if I ever will. We are giving the magical healing thing one more day before giving up and accepting that I'm blind. The world is scary when everything is dark, but things still feel light even if my vision is gone. Like my feet when I'm around Wyatt. We have talked things out and decided to become a couple. Even though I'm blind, he is still the sexiest man on earth. And me being blind isn't precisely a handicap—now I can freely grope him, squeeze his super-hero muscles, and blame it on being blind. It makes him laugh every time, especially when I was using that excuse when I was licking his abs yesterday. And fuck me. Wyatt seriously has the mightiest abs, like rocks inserted into his body and then draped over with human skin. He is seriously so gorgeous—a sex god sent to earth. Flames sear within me—merely thinking about having Wyatt to mys
Maeve Wyatt gently places me down on a bed. The innkeeper told us to get some rest before she attempts to heal my eyes. She used up most of her stamina, patching up my wounds and stopping the bleeding—it no longer feels like I'm leaking. "I shouldn't have brought you with me," Wyatt says as he crashes down behind me. "It's my fault that Bob and Garett died." His sheer weight got me tumbling into him, and his arm falls over me, holding me in place. It sounds like he is crying. It breaks my heart because I feel at ease with him, safe. He is like a giant teddy bear, but right now, he is vulnerable, and it tears me apart. I suck oxygen into my lungs, fully aware of my heartache. "Hey," I whisper at Wyatt, holding his shaking hand. "It's not your fault that they died—we didn't know Marcus had a bomb, and Bob made his own decision to save me." "I know, I'm just..." He is breathing into my neck with his curly locks brushing against me. It tickles. I
WyattI approach the hybrid town through the forest with my skin bleeding and pants leaving my body. My exhaustion is rising, and my thoughts are scattered, running wild with worry as I clutch Maeve to my body. She was so close to dying. Shit. I will never let her go again, never look away!"Wyatt..." Maeve chuckles a little. Her head slumps to my shoulder, where she rests with her eyes closed. It's beyond me how she can appear so peaceful after what we have survived. "You can slow down. No one is chasing us, and we are both alive.""But you are-..." I stop talking, confused about the growing smile on Maeve's lips. Why does she seem so entertained? It's annoying not to know!"I'm what?" Her hand strokes over my chest, and she digs her cheek into my naked skin, inhaling my scent. My heart swells. I care about her so much, and she is injured because of me. "Well… I'm alive, Wyatt. I'm grateful for that, and if I'm blind, then so what? At least you ca
WyattWhen I can see again, I crawl on all fours while my heart is aching with the knowledge Maeve is hurt. I'm a hybrid, and my skin is burning. One of my legs is hurting tremendously—nothing important. It will heal in mere minutes, but Maeve won't heal if she is injured.She is a human who might need a hospital—Shit, I shouldn't have taken her with me! I won't forgive myself if she is dead or injured! I'm already responsible for my mother's death, and now maybe I've also murdered Maeve.I'm such a monster!A fucking idiot!Maeve isn't a superhero—why the hell did I bring her here?!"Maeve!" I call her name through the smoke, making my way forward over rocks and debris from the mansion. White fragments are circling in the air like snow, and I cough as I crawl. My heart is beating a mile per minute. "Maeve?!""Fucking shit! That hurt!" Bob swears to the right of me, and I watch him stand up, entirely unscathed as if
WyattMy heart is in pieces, shattered, as I walk into the building where Marcus is supposed to live. I should plan on how to kill him, how to make Marcus suffer as he deserves. Instead, my entire focus is on what I told Maeve yesterday.I told her the thought that has plagued my mind for as long as I can remember—that I can't have children. If I could decide, I would have plenty of children, at least three, but I don't want my lover to die.I wouldn't be able to live with the grief of losing Maeve in childbirth. My father raised me and handled his sadness, but I don't want my life to be a repeat of his tragic one. He had Giovani and me by his side, but his gaze would always turn sad whenever we would pass a lake as if he could imagine my mother being there.Halting in my tracks, I glance over my shoulder, finding Maeve tilting her head at me with a weak smile. She is beautiful, like a gemstone in a place with rocks. Her soul is so pure. I love how
MaeveAs we drive through the woods, past ghostly trees, I hold on to Wyatt as if he is my lifeline. My guy tells us to turn around the car, but Marcus chasing our families and sending his men to kill us must end. I'm tired of running, and I don't want my children to fear him like I've done since I was a child.My mother, Zoya, taught me how to fight at the ripe age of four. It was when we started, and no child should be using guns that early.In the future, I want my children to enjoy their childhood. I want them to play with the other kids instead of teaching them how to use a flamethrower.I look out through the window, squeezing Wyatt's hand. "I hope us murdering Marcus will be easy. I have a bad feeling about visiting him, but we have to end this horror story.""I think it will be easy to get rid of the man," Wyatt replies. "Marcus is old, almost blind if you ask Bob. Victor was his strength, and he is dead."Bob meets my eyes in the re
MaeveMy breasts feel heavy when Wyatt carries me outside of the car. I'm wrapped around him but not able to circle his large torso entirely. He is too broad, too damn powerful, and the awareness makes my clit throb with hot, pulsating need.He is this ridiculously tall mountain of a man, while I'm the lucky woman allowed to touch him. My heart is beating double-time in my chest. I can't wait to fuck him, or get fucked by him, whichever is fine. I was drawn in hours ago, tricked to get turned on, when Wyatt let me touch his enormous pecs much more prominent than my boobs."I'm so hard for you," Wyatt speaks huskily; even his voice sounds like sexual frustration. His breath is warm, evaporating in the frozen air. "I wish you could touch me."Pure ecstasy hits me when I hear his deep, raw voice filled with desire. I can't confirm if his words are valid, but I'm dying to find out. I'm quivering with anticipation as Wyatt explores the surface of my clothes.
WyattHandshakes are special because some people only touch your skin, while others affect your soul.Maeve is sitting next to me in the middle seat of the car. I'm glancing out through the window, pretending Maeve's hand on my thigh doesn't reach deeper than the surface of my jeans. The truth is that she is under my skin, and I can't remove her from there.My eyes briefly glance down at Maeve. She is sleeping peacefully, and with a heavy sigh, I brush her hair with my hand."You're a pain in the ass..." A soft smile touches my face, and with warmth flooding my senses, I hug her to my chest. "But I wouldn't want you ever to change."Maeve snores in response, and I chuckle.When I was younger, I was always smiling and trying to make people like me. I feared being lonely, which surprise-surprise made everyone think I was annoying. Little Wyatt was too horny for attention, and I was bullied for it.As a child, I was small and motherless.