𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

44 || Dinner Party

I find myself craving his every touch so much so that I'm never satisfied.  "You'd never willingly admit to it."

I make out the twitch of his lips before they come down onto mine in a soft caress. "Smart girl." He murmurs, pulling away slightly before those lips of his are back on mine.

My head tips back at an impossible angle, and I'm barely able to keep up with the logistics of this upside down kiss, but I'm lost in it all. So much so that the air caught in my throat, and my hair trickling down my arched back makes me feel like I'm floating in his rough hands. Hands that grip onto me like he doesn't want to let me go.

This time when the wet heat of his mouth lowers onto mine, he nudges me deeper into the wall with his hips, while his hands holding my wrists behind my back, tighten, shift and by the time I feel something threaded around my wrists, he's pulling away with a soft inhale, one that's nothing but a low satisfied hum as he steals what's left of my breath.

Only when I'm pulled back and pushed down into what I can only assume is a chair do I try to untangle my hands and realize he's tied them behind my back.

Confusion washes over me, especially when the warmth of his body steals what little heat surrounds me.

Its a moment later when my eyes are forced to adjust to the blaring white lights that suddenly flicker on, and when I do finally adjust to my surroundings, I'm staring at nothing but an empty room, filled with locked up casings I can only assume hold weapons.

I crane my neck to his dark figure across the room. "What the fuck, Adrik?"

His eyes snap to me, unforgivingly hard and his face gives nothing away as he approaches me. Those stark deep ocean eyes, paired with his chiseled features, hauntingly empty and beautiful never fail to make my stomach dip.

I don't think I'll ever get use to the perfection.

Yet just as he makes it to me, and reaches down, his hands go to either side of my chair and he lifts the chair, and turns me around.

The sight that greets me now, takes me by surprise and not the kind that end in ecstasy and happy endings.

Not when I'm staring at a table, with nothing but a gun set atop it. "Well, this is not where I saw this going."

He ignores me and I watch as he moves to the other side of the table, picks up the gun, unloads it, before swiftly loading a new clip into it.

He does this in less than five seconds, and when he sets the gun onto the table in front of me, barrel facing away from me, his eyes come back to mine. "Get out of the ropes and take the gun."

I don't like where this is headed. Especially not when his voice takes on a serious edge. "Then aim." He takes one step to the side, allowing my eyes to draw to the far wall, where an array of faux human targets are position. "And shoot."

I look from the targets, to the gun, then finally to him, my words far more guarded than before. "Why?"

He crosses his arms and eyes me like he's able to read every little change in my demeanour, "Because I need to know you're capable of defending yourself."

My jaw tightens, and his words on the drive from the safe house come back to me. "I thought you said you didn't care what happened to me."