Slow Agony (Assassins, #2)(72)

Vicious pleasure shot down me, searing a burning line from my breasts to between my thighs.

He made a bestial noise against me, something inhuman—tortured and barbarous.

And fear warred with the pleasure inside me, my blood pounding, my breath going shallow.

He grasped me by the shoulders and turned me, pressing my face into the rough bark of the tree.

I whimpered.

He pushed the blanket around my waist down, down, down, so that it was around my ankles. And then he nudged my leg until I moved it, spreading myself for him, opening.

He sucked in breath noisily behind me.

I felt his body press against me.

His hands explored my breasts again. They ran over my waist and hips. One hand traveled lower, finding me wet and ready. He nudged several swift circles around my clitoris.

I moaned.

And then his rigidness was invading me, jamming into me, taking me.

I let out a little noise, something that could have been interpreted as a cry of pleasure or a cry of pain. And for a moment, I wasn’t quite sure which it was.

Griffin’s strokes were fast, deep, and brutal. His fingers dug into my hips, and he bucked into me—ruthless, wild.

I felt myself clenching around him, spasms hitting me.

It took a moment for the burst of pleasure to catch up.

I was having an orgasm, but it had been ripped from me, forced somehow. No build up, just the climax. I cried out.

Griffin grunted behind me. His breath was fast and loud.

“Griffin,” I gasped, “don’t come inside me. I don’t want—”

He wrenched himself out of me, pressing himself into the soft flesh of my back. He dragged himself against me. Once. Twice.

He groaned.

And I felt a gush of hot wetness against my skin.

Then he wasn’t touching me at all.

I sagged against the tree.

I could hear his hoarse breathing behind me, a few feet away.

I couldn’t move.

Something cool, soft on my back.

I twisted. He had a leaf. He was wiping me off, erasing the evidence of his ejaculation. He’d already rearranged his loin-cloth-like blanket scraps, so that he was covered again. He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

Feeling flustered and confused, I wriggled back into my pieces of fabric.

“Ready?” he said.

“I...” I chewed on my lip. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t take my hand again. He started through the forest ahead of me, this time slower.

I picked my way after him. Because of the less frantic pace, I was able to step more easily, avoiding thorns and branches.

We walked in silence for what seemed like a long time.

Ahead of us, lights peered through the trees. The woods seemed to end there.

“Was Naomi’s house close to campus?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. That was what the lights were. They were the college. All the way back here, though, it would be the dormitories, not the classroom buildings. New dorms had been built last year, and I was pretty sure they extended back to the woods. They would also be lit up like Las Vegas too. “Those are probably dorms.”

“The new ones, right?” he said. “We went to that party there for Halloween?”

“Yeah,” I said. I’d forgotten about that.

“Huh,” he said. “Summer classes start yet, you think?”

“No, I don’t. Not for another week or so.”

“So, there’s probably no one in the dorms.”

“Probably not.”

*

Griffin put his elbow through a pane of glass.

I braced myself, waiting for an alarm to cut through the air, high pitched and beeping.

But there was nothing. No sound except the distant noise of insects singing to each other.

He was bleeding, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He’d heal in a few minutes, anyway. He reached inside the broken window and unlocked the door. He opened it. “After you.”

I padded into the dormitory. It was air conditioned inside. Freezing air enveloped me. Goosebumps appeared all over my skin. Griffin shut the door behind us.

We were inside a lobby area. To our left there was a room with a desk, a phone, and a wall covered with mail boxes. To our right was a laundry room.

Griffin went into the laundry area.

All of the washers and dryers were silent and open, since no one was here. But there were two baskets full of clothes on one of the counters. A handwritten sign above them read, “Lost and Found.”

Griffin began rooting through one of them. “We need clothes.”

He was right. I joined him, looking through the other one. I found a pair of jeans that would probably fit me. A t-shirt. A bra that was the right size. I might have been able to find underwear too, but I thought I’d rather go commando that wear someone else’s underwear, even if they’d been washed.

Griffin dumped the basket out. “Put your stuff in here.”

I dumped the clothes I’d found in the basket. He put an armful of clothing in on top. He’d pulled out two towels as well.

“Come on,” he said.

I followed him out of the laundry room. We climbed the steps to the next level of the dorms. I was convinced the rooms up here would be locked up, but all the doors stood open. I guessed there wasn’t any reason to lock up the rooms when no one was living here.