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My breathing starts and for a while its heavy. That moan was still the only sound I could make, though. No amount of effort can get me back into control. I feel like I’m sinking.
His strong hand strokes my forehead and I feel like by whole being rolls like smoke toward him. I’m tingling, from my thighs to my nipples and my lips.
A glow floods me. A warm elation the spreads through my whole body.
His hands shake and he becomes unsure. Uncertain and awkward, he pulls back.
“I don’t know if I should’ve done that.”
Yes. YES, you idiot. Do it some more.
“I don’t know if I should tell the doctor. No. Wait. You took in a long breath,” a bird caws outside as he says a name, and I can’t catch it – I’m tense with frustration. “No,” he says, “I need to let the Doc know. He needs to know that you took a long, deep breath, and then you held it.”
He’s pulling away.
DON’T! Come back!
“That could be a sign of your death. No. It can’t be. Please. You can’t die. I won’t let you.” he takes my arm. His fingers stroke the inside of my wrist. “No. Look. Your pulse is still strong. Your heart is pounding. “
Oh, PLEASE, don’t take your hand away. Leave it there, please.
His hands are on my shoulders.
Falling back, I’m slipping into the darkness. I hear him calling, commanding.
Again, he says a name.
Again, I’m distracted and I miss it. Black waves close in over me, mixed through with trails of red.
Back in the deep dark, the remains of the glow on my lips is still alight. It sets currents rising and spreading, warming through my whole body.
What I’m feeling is wrong. I know that much. I’m burning for one of my captors. Lusting for the enemy. That can only lead to a very bad ending.
But inside, I know, and my body knows, I need to get control of my physical body before I have any chance of getting my mind and my memory back. If I have any chance of getting myself up and out, much less finding a way to escape, I’m going to need some help.
I won’t be able to do anything at all unless I can recruit at least one of the jailers. So far, the Warrior seems like my best hope. The fact that my body is craving him in a frenzy won’t exactly help, but I can only use what I’ve got.
All of my nerves seem to be switching on and lighting up. Finally, my body feels inspired to rise and wake up, even if it is only due to a gush of pure animal lust.
It’s a life force, right? That’s a good thing.
The vague, blurry plan my body is beginning to hatch is hard, diabolical and unscrupulous. But so is my situation.
An echo sounds from way back in the depths of my mind, wanting me to remember something.
An image dangles, taunting me. Something white, plastic. It looks like a thermometer.
This is not the time. Not for that memory.
I close it off, fast. Shove it down. Force it back.
Unless my Past Self is a nun — and I seriously doubt that, judging from the filthy channels my mind races down at the slightest excuse or provocation — I think she must have been as much attracted to all of them as I am now. And that’s a lot.
I could climb the bones of any one of them. Of all three, in fact. They don’t seem like very nice men. In fact, there’s a trace of evil around each of them. None of that seems to deter my weeping pussy.
I see the emperor as a man who takes whatever he wants, and what he does to get it won’t bother him for a moment. A man who has power and is utterly ruthless using it.
The Warrior is sensual and appreciates the beautiful things. Smooth and beautifully mannered on the outside, under the surface is an animal. A brutal savage.
