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“Such a good girl,” he sighs, content. “Just like I knew you would be. So sweet when I have something in your mouth, aren’t you? So willing when I have your wrists cuffed.” Finally he moves, getting to his knees and sitting back before pressing my leg back to the bed. He strokes along my thighs, eyes never leaving my face as he just touches me, like it should be a comfort.
I finally realize that I’m shaking. My whole body trembles under him, and yet Kayde just wordlessly runs his fingers up and down my thighs. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, reaching out to unbuckle the gag. I suck in a breath, trying my best to calm down enough that I stop shaking.
But no matter how hard I try, I don’t succeed.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I grit out between clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut again.
Kayde chuckles and shifts over me until he can undo the cuffs from my wrists. My arms drop to the bed instantly, hands curling in the pillow over my head. “Well, that’s a bit of a lie. You’re terrified of me,” he disagrees sweetly. “Give me your hands, sweetheart.”
I don’t. It doesn’t even occur to me I should be listening to him, as per our game. Our stupid agreement that keeps the kids safe. But instead, my muddled brain only lets me stare up at him, half in a daze, until it occurs to me the edible is kicking in faster than I would like it too. “Shoot,” I mutter, blinking at him to keep Kayde in focus. “This is unexpected.”
“You’re high,” Kayde observes, picking up my hands and running his fingers over my wrists. He lays them back down across my chest, seemingly satisfied, before getting to his feet and going to the nightstand once again. This time he drops everything back into it, before turning back around and leaning over me with a soft, small washrag.
“I’m so high,” I agree, letting him move my knee and jumping when the cloth rubs over my inner thighs. “Fuck, this is a bad time. I need to go back. Unless you want?—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Kayde interrupts, though it isn’t threatening, exactly. It’s almost possessive. Almost affectionate. But as I’d established in my brain a few minutes ago, Kayde and affectionate do not go together.
“Then what am I doing, oh, ax murderer of my nightmares?” I sigh, finding it hard to keep my eyes open with the mix of THC and post-orgasm sleepiness.
Kayde doesn’t answer. He moves around the room for a minute or so, and when the lights turn off, I blink up at the dark ceiling. Seconds later, the bed dips, and Kayde gently pushes me onto my side, tugging the blankets out from under me.
“What are you doing?” I ask, trying to sit up and instead getting tugged back down. Kayde’s arm goes over me, and he drags me back to him under the blankets until my back is flush against his body.
“What does it feel like?” Is his easy response, and my fingers clench in the sheets under us. He’s so warm, like a radiator at my back, and the weight of the blankets feels more relevant than they should.
“Feels confusing,” I whisper, eyes on the wall. My fingers flex, and it really is a good thing I’m high, I suppose, so that I don’t do something stupid like try to kill him with a pillow.
“Good.” Kayde nuzzles my ear. “That’s how it’s supposed to feel.” His fingers trace over my arm, and as I drift between sleep and just being spaced out, he doesn’t say anything.
Finally, a question bubbles to my lips, unbidden, and even my clenched teeth can keep the question at bay. It isn’t a good question to ask. Not of Kayde, anyway.
But at this point, when I have no idea how long it’s been or if Kayde is even still awake, I can’t stop myself.
“Would you have really done it?” The words come out softly, barely more than a whisper.
I feel the ghost of Kayde’s lips against my shoulder, and he pulls me more snugly against him with a sigh. “Would I really have done what, sweetheart?”
“Killed the kids here.”
He nips at my shoulder blade, a soft purr on his lips. “Yeah,” he answers, no sign of hesitation in the word. “Yeah, Summer. I would’ve killed them all, except for you.” He rolls his hips against mine, though it feels like it’s just a tease. “Every single one except you. You’re my final girl. You’re too good for what I was going to do to all the others.”
The soft whimper that leaves my throat is soft in the darkness, but he still shushes me softly, mouth on my shoulder. “Go to sleep,” he says finally, forehead pressed against my skin. “You’re not going anywhere tonight.”
“Can’t sleep here,” I murmur, though my eyelids are heavy and I swear I can already feel myself slipping away. “Can’t sleep with you.”
His chuckle is dark and grating, and his grip becomes just a little bit more punishing as Kayde says, sweetly, “Well I’m not giving you much of a choice, Summer. And you need to sleep if you’re going to spend all of tomorrow planning my death and telling yourself you should’ve gotten up and walked away.”
He’s right. He’s more than right, and I want to say something scathing, something sharp. But the words fade every time they shape themselves in my head. So with an aggravated sigh, I close my eyes and stop trying, determined not to fall asleep.
No matter how much my body wants to do otherwise.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
For all of maybe three seconds, I don’t know why I’m awake. My brain screams that it’s too early to open my eyes; that the kids aren’t up yet, so I don’t need to be either. A big part of my brain tries to tug me back down, demanding we finish out the night’s sleep.
That is, until Kayde’s growl shudders through my ears and his hand gripping my thigh shifts. “You actually awake, sweetheart?” he hisses, strain in his voice. “Thought I’d get to wring another orgasm out of you before you really woke up. You’re so relaxed when you’re high, baby.”
That brings a whimper from between my lips, and I try to focus in the darkness as I realize I’m no longer on my side, but my back. Dimly I see Kayde’s silhouette, as I realize what he’s doing.