Page 145 of Ly to Me
“F-for what?”
He gave a rough pinch before slipping his hand back out, then slammed his lips into mine, consuming my moans. His kisses trailed along my jaw as I panted, almost unable to hear when he said, “When I tell you to run, you better run, sweetheart.”
I slumped back against the fence, only to be yanked to his front by my waist. Something hard slid into my back pocket. “Put up a fight, Ly. I love it when you fight.”
I blinked up at him, then darted my gaze to the opposite end of the fence by the woods. “Now?”
“No. You won’t know when.” He smirked down at me. “Keep that knife on you if you know what’s good for you.”
He stepped back, eyeing my peaked nipples tenting the t-shirt he’d forced me to wear.
“Why?”
His head cocked. “Why do we have a primal kink, or why did I give you a knife for that other kink we share?”
I shook my head while reaching into my back pocket. “Why give me time?”
“Element of surprise.”
Surprises. Huh.
That was something I could do as well.
“It’s really nothin’, Car,” I said, covering the sound of the metal clasp on the sheath popping open.
“Nothing is nothin’ when it comes to you. You need to learn that I can take every one of your truths. Every single one of ’em.”
“That right?” I asked sweetly, fighting a stupid smile from poppin' up.
“And your lies, too.” Carver bit down on his lip while staring at mine.
Sucker.
I shot my hand holding the knife toward his throat. He grinned as he caught my wrist mid-flight, the blade glinting in the sunlight between us. “If I didn’t already let you put a knife to my chest before, I’d think you were tryin’ to kill me.”
“Had to check if you didn’t want to chase me now because you were too tired. Fucking me every night might be too much for you,” I teased. “Element of surprise and all.”
A spark lit in his eyes as his sharp tongue darted over his lower lip. And then he pried the blade from my fingers, lifting each with ease. I wasn’tactuallygoing to hurt him, but I did want to see how fast he’d react. It made my legs weak seeing how quickly he could take control.
“I was going to be gentle when I catch you later, but I think”—he wrapped his arms around me, resheathing the knife—“you need to be dealt with a little harder.” His lips skirted over my cheek as he murmured, “Maybe then you wouldn’t question my stamina.” The tip of his nose grazed my neck as he cupped my breast, making me squirm. “So damn ready to follow my orders, listening when I told you to put up a fight.”
Every time he praised me, my pussy ached and my thighs trembled. My body became even more his. Somehow, there was always another piece of myself to give to him.
Carver brushed his thumb over my cupid’s bow, tipping his lips toward mine like he was about to kiss me, but then pulled back.
He grinned when I frowned.
“Be ready, little Ly. Because when I catch you this time, I will fuck you, and I won’t be gentle.”
Carver walked over to where Nora had wandered off a few feet from us and started walking her back to the barn like he didn’tjust promise to destroy my body. Like he didn’t just knock me back against the fence and give me a knife to use to fight him off later when he decided to chase me.
The rest of the day went by like that as well. We drove to Oak Heart and set up my print in the system, then went to The Sanctuary, where he showed me the collection and the way it’d grown since he’d taken it from my childhood room. He was soft as he pressed me against the wall and kissed me like he alone held the breaths my body needed. He was gentle as he held my hand during the ride home, and then again when he made sure we both ate before taking a bath together, each swipe of his soapy hands over my skin a reminder of how surprisingly soft he could be.
Even with the caring and gentle gestures, I was on edge. He’d put me on high alert when he told me I’d need to run when the time came yet refused to tell me when that time would actually be. Perhaps he was only being soft because he knew how hard he’d be going later, when he’d inevitably chase me and then fuck me senseless. It was like he was plumping up a chicken before slaughter, only I refused to let my guard down.
While eating dinner, I slammed my fork down, ready to tell him exactly what Jamie had called me, and the way he was going to use that to his advantage. Carver simply raised a finger to cover his smirking lips, telling me, “I plan to fuck it out of you. Don’t spoil the fun.”
How did my body react to that, you might ask? As if it were being plunged into a frigid lake, then dragged near a pit of flames on repeat.
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