16. Naomi

Finn came back.

I got to apologise for my stupid lashing out, and in return, he left me a quivering lump of jelly. If I didn’t wake feel so deliciously used and sore I’d swear it was a dream.

His last act before leaving the room, wincing at the fury of the mindlinks Cillian was flinging his way, was to carefully pass me the sharp blade that had fallen to the floor.

Taking a second to cast his eyes over my naked body, concentrated heat prickled over me. He might as well have held a blazing torch and passed it from head to toe. His ashy brown hair was a mussed up disaster, those grey eyes of his gleaming.

“Hmm I’d love it if you were exactly like this when I get back,” he murmured, running a hand through my hair, stroking the nape of my neck softly.

“I’ve got stuff to do Penkov, don’t start ordering me around now,” I whispered back, trying to be light-hearted.

Except his eyes fluttered with gold. Then the ruthless animal drank in the surprise in my face at the red hot welt