Between the spiders and Daisy, this trip is gonna be the death of me.
I paused, tracing the keys with worry. Kite was the one constant in this mess. The only one not involved in some way or another. He wasn’t a Hawk. He wasn’t a Weaver. He was neutral territory where I wanted to camp and never leave.You think he’s not a Hawk.
The sudden thought stopped me, sucking up my oxygen with terror.My mind skipped back to the luncheon. To the strange connection I’d shared with the brother whose golden eyes weren’t cold or full of malice but playful. My heart raced, recalling the inexplicable kinship we’d shared—no matter how brief.He looked at me as if he knew me.
Shaking, I picked up the device and typed a response.Needle&Thread: I had a similar daydream. You spanked me in the woods with a whip. You kneeled behind me and struck just enough to burn but not bite. I’d never been hit before, but you…you made it seem all right.
Only, it wasn’t a daydream, and it was with my mortal enemy.
I settled back into the covers, breathing shallowly. I flip-flopped with fear, hope, and anger. If Kite was Kestrel, what did that mean? Why had he been so cruel to me yet considerate in the dining room? Why had he messaged me a month ago?Falling. Falling. Swirling. Swirling. We took each other prisoner. Punishing our bodies, focused on one blistering goal.
Oh, God, no…stop, she cried. Her hips tried to dislodge my size.It hurts. Her breath was cool against my fevered flesh.
Let me in. I thrust again, gritting my teeth as a wash of pleasure shot into my balls.Her mouth opened to scream again, but I clamped a hand over her lips, silencing her. Her cheekbones were stark, skin stretched with lust. Her eyes were so dark they mirrored my reflection, showing a man I didn’t recognise. A man who’d well and truly passed the boundary of right and wrong.