Someone spoke, and she knew she needed to focus on the words to understand what was happening, but it felt slow like she was trying to walk through sludge. Where was she? What bed was this? Who was coming?
Him.
He was coming.
A wave of relief so acute swept over her she began to cry. But no, he couldn’t come. They were waiting. They would get him, and she didn’t want that. Who would make her feel safe then? Who would give her answers? Who would she trust? Did she trust him? No. Yes. A bit. Maybe. What was she thinking? Why was she so feverish?
Minutes or hours or nights passed she didn’t know; she looked at the ceiling, writhing on the bed to find some semblance of comfort, her body burning as she breathed, her heart pounding in a way it was scaring her. She tried to inhale to calm down but couldn’t focus enough, could focus on nothing.
All of a sudden, the ceiling disappeared, the room going pitch black.
She whimpered.
She didn’t like the dark. Memories of being trapped in dark spaces came to her, her fear making her shiver as she began to sob. She was alone, and she was going to die, overdosed by a drug she didn’t know, as bait for a man she didn’t know, by strangers who didn’t care. Nobody cared. What was even the point of living?
Something cold pressed against her cheek, making her seek more of the coolness that gave her a brief moment of respite.
A hand. Leather.
“Shh.” The voice of death came from the darkness, his voice, right next to her ear. “I’m here, flamma. Shh.”
A sharp cry of relief left her unbidden even as her mind revolted. No, no, he couldn’t be here. She had to warn him. But she’d promised he wouldn’t hear her voice again. But she didn’t want him to die. Fuck the promise. He had to live.
“It…it’s…a trtrap,” she stuttered somehow, her teeth chattering as her eyes tried to find him. She couldn’t see a thing in the utter darkness, but she felt him—muscled, solid, there.
“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her, his voice soft, soothing almost, the leather going to the other cheek.
She shook her head, unable to see him. Finding the hand on her face, she touched his leather glove, gripping his wrist, sobs bursting out of her chest. “T…they drugg…gged me.”
“And they will pay.”
The promise of retribution in those words, knowing he would follow through, calmed her down just a bit. He was there. She would be okay.
“The drug is fatal. I don’t know the dosage they gave you, but I’m not willing to take the risk. You have two options,” he told her quietly, his dark voice making her focus for a moment. “Either I work the drug out of your system while you’re barely conscious or I make you unconscious and let it flush itself out. That is longer and riskier.”
She didn’t want to be there longer. She shook her head against his hand again, and he probably understood.
“The drug will make you delirious as the effects sharpen. You won’t be fully conscious.”
“I trust you,” she managed to whimper as a bolt of heat ran through her body, making her spasm.
“That’s exactly what sealed your fate all those years ago.”
She knew that. She had trusted him with something important and he had never let her escape since.
The sensation of his gloved hands on her thighs made her gasp, the sensation heightened by whatever was in her system and the pitch black of the room. The lack of sight made her acutely aware of where his hands were, and how large they felt on her limbs.
She felt him push her legs open, heat arrowing to the juncture of her thighs but not wetness. She felt his shoulders, wide, wide shoulders, split and hold her open as his breath fell on her pussy. Breasts heaving, she clenched the sheets on her side as his mouth made contact with her there for the first time in their first kiss.
Wetness coated her as he flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue, before the flat of his tongue took over, the skill of his mouth making her gush in a way she’d never before, making her feel sensations so sharp it wasn’t pleasurable, it was almost pain. She cried as he did it, the heaviness in her limbs increasing with each passing second.
And then, for the first time in years, she felt herself come immediately, quicker than she would’ve thought possible. Maybe it was the drug, maybe it was him, maybe it was a combination of both. She didn’t know and didn’t care. She just came, and it felt… incomplete. It felt painful, without an iota of pleasure.
But it took the edge off for a minute.