my throat along with my thoughts.
“I—I just wanted to check on you.”
“Mhmm,” he mutters dryly.
I swallow. “I—I can go,” I whisper.
“I’d rather you stay.”
I blush.
“You know, you’re all I’ve been thinking about,” Hush admits quietly.
My grin widens. “Oh?”
“You already knew that that though,” he growls.
“No, I didn’t.”
“You should have.”
“Oh you say that to all the girls who come down here to the dungeon to see you, don’t you?” I say teasingly.
He chuckles and then chuckles again.
“Fuck,” he grins through the bars.
“What?”
“It feels good to laugh.”
“I know.”
“It’s been a long time since I have,” he says quietly.
My brow furrows, worried and I rake my teeth over my lip.
“How long have you been here? I mean fighting for my father’s fights?”
“Two years.”
My heart wrenches.
“Two years,” I choke out. He just shrugs.
“Can I ask…” I shake my head. “Sorry, never mind.”
“What did I do?” That’s what you want to ask, isn’t it?”
I nod, and his eyes spark in the lamplight.
“I tried to take from your father. I was stupid, and reckless, and I had a death wish. He caught me, but I’d already lost what I’d stolen.”
“What’d you steal?”
“Drugs,” he says without a pause. He arches a brow. “Not my smartest move. Your father caught up with me, but I didn’t have what I’d taken or the money, so he put me down here after I took out half his men when they came for me. Guess he saw promise in me as a fighter.”
I look down, my heart sinking a little.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“Don’t be. I knew the risks of crossing a man like your father, or I should have before I did.”
“Are you… I mean, will you ever get out?’
Hush says nothing, and my smile falters.
“No-no,” he growls. “Don’t let that go out.”
“What?”
“Your smile,” he says quietly. “It’s the only good I’ve seen in two fucking years, princess.”
“Well, in that case,” I smile through my blush.
“There it is,” he groans.
“The other night…” I blush. “I can’t stop thinking about that.”
“Neither can I,” he growls.
“No one… I mean,” I bite my lip again. “No one’s ever done that to me.”
He frowns. “How do you mean?”
I blush and look down.
“No one’s ever made me… you know.” I swallow. “Come before.”
There’s a pause.
“At all?”
His voice is low and edged, and I shake my head.
“How old are you, princess?”
“Twenty-two,” I sigh. “My, uh, my dad has a way of scaring boys away.”
“No one’s ever made you come,” he murmurs.
“Uh-uh,” whisper.
“Fuck do I want my hands on you right now,” he groans thickly. “I want to hold you. I want to taste your lips.”
I gasp.
“If no one’s made you come before, you have some serious catching up to do. And if no one’s made you come,” he grunts. “I’m betting no one’s ever told you how fucking beautiful you are. How sexy you are. How fucking hard you make them.”
I gasp, the sound of his gruff voice and dirty words sending shivers thorough me.
“I’ve spent two years in the darkness, princess,” he says softly. “Seeing you was the first ray of light I’ve seen since I came in here. Kissing you was the first warmth I’ve felt in as long. And it’s the first time I wanted a tomorrow since I came here and assumed I’d die here.”
My chest tightens. “You’re not going to die here,” I whisper.
Hush says nothing.
“I want a hammer,” I say with a quiet giggle. “To tear this stupid wall down.”
I blink suddenly at a thought.
“Wait, can you break it?”
He chuckles darkly. “I’m strong, but not that strong. I tried the first time they put me down here.”
“I just want your hands on me again,” I whisper. “I want to hold you,” I blurt out. “I want to feel you again. Like…” I blush. “Like the other night.”
“What do you want to feel?” he purrs.
“You know…” I whisper. “You.”
“Tell me.”
I blush, looking into his eyes through the bars.
“I want you to touch me again,” I whisper. “I want your hands on my waist, your lips on mine. I want to feel your…” I swallow, and heat blooms on my face.
“Say it,” he growls.
“I want to feel your… your cock,” I whisper.
Hush groans. “Fuck, Catalina.”
“I’ve touched myself every night since then,” I blurt out. Fuck it, I don’t care. Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or because he’s behind a wall. Maybe it feels a little like some sort of filthy, dirty confessional down here, where I can say anything.
“Fucking hell, baby,” he grunts.
“Sometimes during the day too,” I whisper. “I’ve snuck back