Heart Recaptured Page 20


“Lilah—”

“Can I request that we do not use this machine, Ky?” I asked, cutting him off.

A shocked yet humored expression flashed across Ky’s face and he raised his blond eyebrow. “Can you request it?”

I nodded apprehensively, trying to judge if this might anger him. But after a second of staring, Ky suddenly began laughing loudly and placed the helmet on the back of the bike. He looked at my face again and that seemed to make him laugh even harder. “Fuckin’ request,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Why are you laughing at me?” I asked in dismay.

Ky moved around the bike to stand before me and said, “First fuckin’ lesson, sweet cheeks. Out here in the ‘evil world’”, he mocked, “we don’t wanna do something, ride on something, then we fuckin’ just say so.”

Frowning, I said, “I did say so.”

“Nah, bitch, you opened those fuckin’ fat lips and spoke to me like the queen of England. From now on, you just say, ‘I’m not fuckin’ riding that, Ky.’ Or ‘I’m not fuckin’ doing that, Ky.’” He jerked his chin and took another drag of his white stick. “Got it?”

Nodding, I lifted my hands and ran my fingers over my lips. Ky’s eyes narrowed as he watched me.

“Fat lips?” I asked in confusion. “I have fat lips?”

Blinding me with a dazzling white smile, Ky licked along his lips and edged closer, too close for comfort. The proximity of his large, muscular body was unnerving, and his smoky breath drifted over my cheeks.

Taking my chin in his grip, his thumb pulled down my bottom lip, and he leaned in to say, “Big fat, pink lips. Most perfect fuckin’ lips I’ve ever seen.” His voice was raspy and lower than normal. “Yeah, Li, you got true cock-sucking fat lips.”

My heart raced and, suddenly feeling heady, I released a shuddering exhale. His talk was crude, but I had come to realize it was just his way.

Time stood still as Ky and I hung there motionless, both breathing deeply. The air seemed to crackle all around us and the pressure of it pressed down on my chest. Suddenly, Ky stepped back and cleared his throat, taking one last inhale of his white stick, then dropped it to the ground, the end still burning orange ash.

The pressure on my chest immediately eased as Ky backed away.

“You’re gonna make me take the truck, ain’t you? Gonna keep me caged in?”

Ky didn’t give me time to respond, but instead fished keys from a pocket and walked toward a large black machine with huge silver bars on the front and double wheels at the rear.

A clicking noise sounded and Ky opened a door. “Get in,” he ordered, but I did not move. “Lilah, get in the fuckin’ truck,” he ordered.

I hesitantly stepped forward, peering through the open high door. Prophet David and the elders had an automobile, which they would use occasionally, but none of the rest of The Order had ever used one, especially us Cursed. We were segregated, refused such opportunities.

Suddenly, hands gripped my waist and, with a surprised cry, I was hoisted up into the seat. As I turned to face Ky, he slammed the door and walked around the front of the machine to jump in beside me.

Ky pushed the keys into an opening and said, “Seatbelt.”

I stayed silent, not understanding his words and not wanting to anger him. Ky looked at me and repeated, “Seatbelt.”

“What is a seatbelt?” I asked quietly.

Gripping the large wheel in front of him, Ky blew out a breath and tipped his head. “This is gonna be one fuckin’ long day, huh, bitch?”

“I—” I went to respond, but Ky’s wide body was suddenly across mine, his chest flush to my chest. He reached up his hand to grip something above my head. I could not breathe. My lungs unwilling to function.

As Ky’s chest rubbed against mine, my breasts felt incredibly heavy and I grew hot and flustered. Ky did not seem to be moving either, his breathing labored. That stifling pressure from before was back.

The large space of the vehicle suddenly seemed like a tiny box. Everything felt too small, everything but the man lying across me, the large man who was gripping a black belt of material above my head… a large man whose eyes met mine and almost seemed to ignite with fire as he did so.

His hips twitched and suddenly I felt a hardness press against my thigh, his hardness, and I began to shake in nerves.

Ky then began to move ever so slowly, bringing the belt gently across my chest and down to my hip, his hands grazing my sensitive nipples. Gasping and feeling a tingling between my thighs, I began to panic.

Ky’s face appeared in front of mine, a movement as fluid as the sun travels the sky. His nose brushed against the tip of mine. He inhaled my hot breath. This close, he smelled of smoke, yes, and an addicting smell of cool flowing water, which reminded me of the cleansing river. A small whimper escaped my mouth just as a loud click sounded in the air, breaking me free from the magnetic attraction pulsing between us.

“Seatbelt,” Ky rasped out, his hooded gaze dropping to my lips.

Big fat, pink lips. Most perfect fuckin’ lips I’ve ever seen.

“Fuck, bitch,” Ky groaned, then backed away, leaving me pinned against the seat, my hands rigid at my sides. “Yeah, one fuckin’ long day.”

Closing my eyes, I regained my self-control, first relaxing my tense muscles. Hearing a grunt beside me, I swept my attention to my left, only to see Ky adjusting the crotch of his pants with a pained expression on his face.

With his hands back on the wheel, Ky shook his head and said, “We’re going to get breakfast. I need food to get rid of the gremlin in my head and a bucket of coffee to wake me the fuck up.”

Gremlin? Coffee? I had no idea what he was talking about, but one thing he did say sent fear into my heart. “We are to go outside of this compound?” I asked, my voice betraying my apprehension.

Ky turned the key to the vehicle, and the machine roared beneath us. I expelled a shout of surprise and tried to find purchase on something to hold me still. “What is happening?” I shrilled, holding a handle on the door.

Humor was back in Ky’s face and he said, “One, calm the fuck down. The truck’s just been switched on. And two, yeah, we’re leaving the compound. I ain’t cooking no damn food, and somehow, I don’t think you’ll want one of my sluts doing it.”

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