My head drops back onto the stone step and he attacks my neck with his teeth, his hand enveloping my bare breast, still wet with his saliva, while I slowly, luxuriously reach for my climax.
His cock is so hard that I wonder how he's not bursting from the laces of his pants. Instead, he holds his hips still and allows me to work myself against him, his hands holding me tight, his mouth a heated suction against my skin. He bites down hard on the tender flesh between my neck and my shoulder and I let out a scream as an orgasm rips through me. It's sharp but so sweet that I ride it right through to the end, my breath rushing from my lips and moving the hair on top of his head.
He lifts his head to look down at me, his eye glowing with satisfaction. As I return to earth, I realize with a pang of shame what I've done. I used him to reach my own orgasm. It's not fair and I know it. I can still feel him straining against me, his rock-hard cock nestled between my thighs. I reach down to stroke him through his leather pants.
"Your turn?" I ask uncertainly.
He shakes his head. "Not yet."
I feel ashamed of myself. That I came so easily, using his body to satisfy mine while he had no intention of losing his control completely and fucking me right on the stairs. I squirm underneath him and try to close my legs, but I can't because his hips are still pressed snugly against mine.
"I'm… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" I stammer, both ashamed and angry at myself.
He takes my chin in his hand and forces my face up until I'm looking directly at him. He gives me a little shake and says, "Never be sorry for expressing yourself sexually. You’ve never been more beautiful to me then you are right now."
Tears rush to my eyes and I look sideways to blink them away. I don't know why I suddenly feel like crying. Maybe because his words mean so much? Or maybe because I suddenly feel so bloody awkward that I want the hell out of the situation.
I wiggle underneath him until he finally lets me up. I stand, brushing myself off and wrapping the blanket back around me for an added layer of protection. I keep my gaze on the floor. "We should go."
He nods but doesn't move.
He reaches out to tip my chin so he can look me in the eyes. "I will fuck you, Skye. It's a matter of when and where, not if." He glances around, his lip curling in distaste. "It was never going to happen in the palace stairway. I may not be a good man, but I'm better than that."
I let out an unexpected laugh and grin at him. I don’t know what this man is doing to me, but I think I like it. He’s leading me down a path toward an unknown goal and I’m helpless to stop it. Does he want me as a wife? Does he want me to fix his city? Does he want my soul? I don’t know… and I’m starting to not care if he takes everything he wants and more.
Twenty-Six
Wolfe
"Stop."
Skye stops and looks over her shoulder at me, a frown marring her perfect features. She was about to get into one of the vehicles heading out of the city on the Primitive hunt that we've organized.
"You ride with me," I tell her as I stride past her, catching her arm and tugging her along with me to the lead vehicle.
I open the door and push her down onto the passenger seat. She opens her mouth to yell at me, probably for manhandling her, but it could be for any number of things. Maybe the orgasm I helped her achieve in the stairwell. I slam the door in her face before she can speak, but I hear her muffled shout of annoyance as I round the car.
I must admit, I enjoy pissing Skye off. I'd rather have her fight me every step of the way, her anger piquing her interest as I prod her. Her annoyance is far better than her clever mind picking out ways to escape the city and leave me. I won't allow that to happen, but I'd rather she not hurt herself in an attempt. Skye can be determined, but also reckless.
I point at Kingston and silently tell him to ride in one of the other vehicles. I want some alone time with my woman before the hunt. Besides, she’s still wearing my nightshirt, gaping open over her perfect breasts. A sight for my eyes only.
I open the driver's door and drop into my seat. "Buckle up," I say to her without looking.
"Fuck off." Pause. I hear the click as she buckles her seatbelt.
I bare my teeth in some semblance of a grin as I turn the ignition and the car rumbles to life. I love cars. Everything about them. They represent the past, the endurance of human ingenuity. They represent strength, since only the strong have access to vehicles. And they represent the future. A way for us to remain connected. They are a surviving technology that will push us in the right direction rather than backsliding even further into the Apocalypse.
We head out of the city and hit the nearest highway east where we skirt the mountains. It’ll be easier to pick off our victims on the open plains. Our plan is to follow the river as closely as possible until we’re able to find a horde. Then we’ll divide and conquer, hopefully keeping enough of them alive to deliver back to Dr. Summers for her experiments.
Though zombies avoid water, they seem to have figured out that humans require water to survive and have a tendency to either settle down near or visit water sources often. Our nearest water source is the Rio Grande River, so we follow the highway parallel to the river, occasionally taking back roads into the river valley to search for hordes.
After a few hours of driving, Skye sighs her annoyance. "It's just like these assholes to play hide-and-seek with us. They're everywhere all the time unless you actually need one, and then good luck finding them."
I don't reply, instead scanning the area for a good place to stop. As I pull the vehicle into a copse of trees next to the river Skye asks, "Are we stopping?"
I put the car in park and turn the ignition off. Dust floats up around us as the rest of our hunting party arrives, parking their vehicles on either side of ours.
"We’ll set up camp here, see if we can lure them to us,” I answer.
I open the door and step out of the vehicle, searching the area with a narrowed gaze. Something moves in the bushes then leaps out into the clearing. I pull my gun from the holster at my hip and shoot the antelope mid-leap. It hits the ground, tries to get up and then collapses, a pool of blood spreading from its chest. A slight pang hits me as the beautiful animal with its long, curved horns hits the dirt and dies. I have more empathy for these creatures than I do most people. They are innocents in a world made dirty by humans.
"Nice shooting," Skye says sarcastically, slamming her door shut and rounding the vehicle to stand next to me, her arms crossed over her chest. "Too bad it's not what we're looking for."
"It'll feed a family for a few months," I say without looking at her. I turn to Kingston who comes to stand next to me. "Make sure it's prepared and packed up to go back to the city. Leave some meat for our evening meal."
"Yes, Warlord." He goes back to a vehicle for the supplies he’ll need to butcher the animal.
Skye starts to wander away from me toward the river and I reach out to grab her arm pulling her back.
"Take your bag into the bushes and get dressed."
She swings around and glares up at me, her stormy grey eyes narrowed in annoyance. I've rarely seen another expression on her face, but there’ll come a day when I will lay down everything, including my life, to see even the hint of a smile on those beautiful lips. For now, I will continue down the path that we've started together, the path that will lead to her emancipation. She doesn't know it, but she's too important to let wallow in her own grief.