Last First Kiss Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors: W. Winters, Willow Winters Advertisement
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I can’t explain why it causes me so much pain.

I must be broken, I must be sick, but I prefer to stay in here, only leaving the cage for short trips to look at something or to go to the bathroom.

Gio brought in a thick blanket, and I brought it to the cage. The grate on the floor just hurt too much. I couldn’t take another day of the thin bars digging into my legs. I anticipated him telling me no, but it didn’t happen.

The warmth and comfort of the blanket make me want more though. I keep looking at the bed, and I want to lie on it. I want to get in the bath again and feel the comfort of the steaming hot water. I want his soothing, gentle touch on my skin.

I look to the clock. It’s the only thing that makes a sound in the room, and I know I have time. He won’t be back for a little while. It’s my hour of freedom.

My stomach rumbles with hunger. He left the tray for dinner. He wanted to feed me, but I wasn’t hungry so he left it there.

I should eat. When I eat, the pain goes away. It lulls me into a deep sleep and for a moment, I’m better. Even when I wake up, I’m okay.

But the sickness always returns in the pit of my stomach. Gio left medicine on my tray, but I didn’t take it.

I must have a death wish.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here. I have no plan of escape, and I don’t see a way out of here.

Maybe I should give in.

I close my eyes and remember his hands on me. The feel of his hard muscles against my body.

He’s offered me safety, which is something I’ve never had in all of my life.

I know what he wants. And I want it, too.

I don’t know how much longer I can fight it. This desire to let him have me and see where this takes us. Will he make me stay here forever? I don’t think he will.

I should ask him. He hasn’t lied to me, and I think he’d tell me the truth. He hasn’t hidden anything from me. But I’ve hardly asked a thing.

A small huff of a dark laugh leaves my lips and sounds crazy to my ears, but I don’t care.

My father wanted me to ask questions, to listen. What a fucking idiot. The Romanos don’t even have me. If he knew where I was, he’d be furious. He wasted a pawn.

My shoulders shudder slightly with a laugh, and a smile plays at my lips. It shouldn’t fill my chest with warmth, but it does.

He used me, and got nothing in return. And he has no idea where I am.

The realization lifts a weight from my shoulders, and I ease into the thick blanket. He’s not coming for me. That’s never been true in all my life.

My eyes open and I stare blankly at the wall, the smile slipping, but what life is this that I have?

I sit up and look at the clock and the chalkboard.

I asked him for music, but he hasn’t brought me any. I have nothing. The reality is that I’m wasting my time, and my life.

I don’t even know what I’d do if I were to ever get out of here. I’d run, of course. But when would I stop? And where would I go?

I remember a picture my mother had in her room. It was of her family. My nana and papa. I never met them, but it was taken back when my mother was a girl. The three of them were on the beaches of France. I’d love that.

I’d love to go there. If for nothing else than to listen to the waves, and pretend I lived in their time. That I could have shared that with them.

That’s where I’d run, far away. I catch sight of the chalk next to the board, and my body stirs.

I need to write it down, so I don’t forget. Happiness is something that’s a rarity for me, but I have it now. I can’t let it go.

I look at the time, and I know I’m still safe. I don’t have to run, so I don’t feel any anxiety. I even stretch, letting out a yawn that creeped up on me. It feels good to move. I almost walk directly to the board, but then I remember he put clothes in the closet. They were only meant to tempt me, and so I ignored them. But now… I want to see them. I want to feel them.

There are only three simple dresses draped on plastic hangers. There's a black one with a black lace overlay. Underneath is silk. The texture feels so soft and smooth. Has it always felt this way? It’s so luxurious. I eye the other two garments, which are a short red spaghetti strap nightie, and an almost identical cream one. They look beautiful, but the black one calls to me. I feel like I need it. I don’t put it on though, not yet, knowing that I’m going to be playing with the chalk. I don’t want to dirty the beautiful fabric.


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