Page 17 of Crush
“Hey!” I bat him away, but he flicks off my feeble attempts like I’m a mosquito he’d much rather squish.
“Then take your clothes off yourself,” he growls. “Freeze your ass off. I don’t fucking care.”
Then why are you here? Why did you send everyone away except for you?
I keep my thoughts to myself. “F-fine. Okay. Help me.”
He makes a pissed-off sound in his throat but helps me stand and assists in peeling off my shirt and pants. When he unsnaps my bra with a mere flick of his fingers, I squeak but don’t protest.
It’s better to get all cold, damp garments off me. I’m already turning blue. Including my … underwear.
“Still modest, even though I’ve eaten your pussy?” Thorne’s question comes out as an amused purr. “I’m flattered.”
“F-Fuck off.” I’m dancing in the sand at this point, begging for my blankets back. But that kitten of mine purrs in remembrance.
Thorne straightens, my panties in his hands, and suddenly, I don’t need the blankets anymore.
His stare is hot enough, raking every inch of me, burning straight into my center.
My eyes go wide on his.
He snaps out of it, tossing his own blanket aside, then shrugging off his—oh fuck, his boxers.
It’s only now I’ve realized Thorne tore off his clothing before diving into the ocean to save me. And now … now he’s naked.
And I’m naked.
And we’re naked together.
Where my body didn’t have heat before, it’s sure rediscovered it in my face.
“Come here.”
His tone leaves no room for argument, especially when he stands butt naked on a beach, confident and unaffected by how he comes across.
And he comes across as beautiful.
“Eyes up here, little pretty.”
I force my eyes from his cut torso to his face. I must be rocketing with shivers and trembles, but all I can think of is the guy standing before me. Every inch of him.
He crooks his finger, much like he did when he was beckoning me to shore, and this time, I make it.
Thorne folds me into an embrace, his hot, hard body molding with mine. He also covers us in blankets and shifts us closer to the fire.
“Breathe easy.” His voice rumbles against the shell of my ear. He has no idea that these new shivers of mine have nothing to do with my impending hypothermia. “Listen to your heartbeat if you have to distract yourself. You’re almost out of it now.”
Thorne’s right. The numbness subsides in favor of painful tingles, but I’ll take those over losing my extremities any day. Relaxing my head into the crook of his neck, I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat—slow, steady, strong.
After a time, with my eyelids growing heavy, I ask, “Why do you do this to us?”
His response is alert as though he’s taken no time to relax. “Do what?”
“These dares. Hazings. We’ve already passed our trials initiating us into the Virtues.”
His hmm of thought rumbles in his chest. “Be honest. What you’re really asking is why I’m doing this to you.”
“Maybe,” I concede.