Page 13

13

Isaac

I woke up in the dead of night to soft snores in my ear and the warm weight of a woman in my arms.

Tovah.

I couldn’t resist pulling her tighter against me. We had gone to sleep lying side to side, but at some point in the night, one or both of us had moved, and she was sprawled out on my chest, her curly pink hair tickling my chin and nose. Our cuffed arms lay connected across her back. My wrist ached from the way the handcuff dug into my skin, but I couldn’t lie—I liked the assurance of knowing she couldn’t go anywhere . Her captivity satisfied the monster, who was frustratingly obsessive over this woman I truly couldn’t stand.

What was it about her? There was no plausible reason I should be so compelled, so obsessed. There’d been plenty of pretty girls over the years, but none of them got my cock hard the way she did. None of them were here in my bed, handcuffed to me. None of them made me want to know them, inside and out, mind, heart, and soul. The monster had slept through all of them. There was something about her: the rebellious, I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude toward other people, her compassion and care toward her friends, her intelligence and savvy, her strength and sass when she stood up to me and fought me, which no one did. Or maybe it was her determination to find the truth and share it with the world, no matter how it hurt her—even while she hid her own truths.

Speaking of which.

I reached out with my free arm, fumbling around on my nightstand until I grabbed my phone, holding it up to my face to unlock it in the dark. Once it was open, I pulled up my texts and messaged my sister.

Any info on Tovah Lewis?

Why are you awake? It’s late.

Can’t sleep.

Girl trouble. I never thought it could happen. For Reuben? Sure. For you? Never.

I smiled despite myself. Reuben was my second youngest brother and was always getting into some mess with a girl.

But Tovah breathed in my arms, reminding me why I’d texted my sister in the first place.

Info, please.

Nothing. Whatever there is on her is buried deep and locked down. I keep hitting a brick wall. Maybe you should try your friend Jack’s brother, Micah? He’s an expert hacker, he should be able to find something.

I sighed. That would mean telling Jack more than I needed to, but maybe it would help if he knew where my head was at. Not to mention he and the team were going to have to help me babysit my captive, so he was going to have to know sooner rather than later.

Okay.

Love you. Stay out of any messes I’ll have to clean up later.

I didn’t respond. I did love my sister, but I couldn’t say it. Hadn’t been able to say those words since my mother was killed.

Tovah murmured something in her sleep. I put down my phone and leaned in closer to hear her.

I was shocked by the word that came out of her mouth, on a breathy moan.

“Isaac…”

Was she dreaming of me?

Fuck. Was she having a sex dream about me?

My cock, trapped by her bare, silky thigh, went hard in my sweats. I curled my free hand into a fist to keep myself from reaching between her thighs and testing to see if my hunch was right and she was wet.

I couldn’t do it. I’d already crossed so many fucking lines when I’d let the beast out and had eaten her into multiple orgasms without her consent. I couldn’t touch her in her sleep.

But…

Couldn’t I?

She was here. Asleep. Helpless. In my arms.

And there was no one to stop me but me .

On that realization, I slipped my hand between her thighs, gently swiping my thumb on the boxer briefs of mine she was wearing.

And grunted in pleased shock.

Wet.

She was dreaming of me.

And I was going to make her have an even better dream.

Sliding my fingers under the elastic, I began to play. She was mostly hairless, with just a small triangle of short curls. The idea that she waxed for anyone else made my heart roar with frustration. But it didn’t matter. She was here now, with me, and wouldn’t be touching or touched by anyone else as long as she was mine. I stroked my fingers up and down her slit, gathering some of her wetness before focusing my middle and index finger on her clit, hiding under its hood. Slowly, carefully, gently—maybe even tenderly—I started tracing small, light circles around it, barely rubbing. I was rewarded by more wetness as her arousal grew.

I was rewarded more when she moaned my name again.

Fuck.

All I wanted to do was slip my cock inside her pussy, but I’d meant it when I’d told her she had to earn it. And while I could excuse myself for touching her, I wasn’t sure I could rationalize full on fucking her while she was asleep. Instead, I appeased myself by playing, drawing more circles, patterns, even tracing my name on her pussy as she moaned and shifted in my arms.

That’s right, little snoop. You come for me . And only me. Whenever I want you to.

I sped up my circles, following her breathing patterns and movements, this time not so lost in her cunt that I couldn’t pay attention to what she liked and didn’t like. She was perfect this way, vulnerable, open, unaware and unable to fight me. And when her thighs tightened and she inhaled, somehow still asleep but close to coming, I stuffed two of my fingers inside her while playing her clit with my thumb, and oh fucking god, the way she squeezed them so tight when she orgasmed.

It made me do something I hadn’t done since I was a teenager: come in my sweatpants.

Some-fucking-how, doing nothing but playing with her pussy was the hottest sex I’d had in years. Maybe the hottest sex I’d ever had.

Yeah, I wasn’t fucking turning Tovah Lewis over to my father to be killed. Not when she was such a perfect little plaything. Not when she was the only bit of light in the darkness.

This was the moment where I should’ve unlocked the handcuffs, gone to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Maybe even slept in another room to get distance from her and this uncomfortable feeling in my chest, like something had been cracked open and was leaking out. I couldn’t risk feeling about her this way, about feeling anything about her at all. Not when I knew that she wasn’t for me, long-term. No one was. I’d learned that the hard way as a young boy when my mother was killed right in front of my eyes.

So yeah, I should’ve gotten the hell out of that bed, washed away the reminder of what Tovah did to my body, and put a wall between us, literally and figuratively.

Instead, I rearranged Tovah so she was curled into the nook below my arm, her head resting on my chest, and closed my eyes, reveling in a feeling that would never, ever last. And swiftly fell asleep, and slept better than I had since my mother was killed.