way I want to run from just so he can chase me.
“You don’t feel what?” he asks me gruffly, his lips close to the shell of my ear. My skin immediately breaks out in goosebumps, then heats all over as though flames are licking up from my feet and over my skin. Is this another side effect of memory loss, or something else altogether?
“…I’m hot,” I pant.
No, I’m needy. So fucking needy. I need to fuck. I need to fuck him.
“Hot?” he questions softly. It’s disconcerting. There’s a gentleness to his voice that has me questioning my sanity. In every dream I’ve ever had of him, Mathieson isn’t gentle, he’s rough, raw, demanding.
“Yes. Hot.” I shift my body away from his. Trying to press it against the glass, needing to cool this rash of heat that’s determined to burn me up from the inside out. The windowpane is cold, but it doesn’t help.
“Are you unwell?”
“I don’t know…”
He shifts closer, crowding me. My body presses up against the glass, the window ledge pressing painfully against my thigh as he cages me in with his body. He’s hard. I can feel the firm ridge of his cock pressing against my lower spine.
“Let me help you…” he grinds out, wrapping his arm around my waist. His fingers dig into my side, scrunching up the material of my t-shirt in his hand.
“Please,” I beg, my fingers pressing against my core through my clothes, my arm trapped beneath his. I’m too wound up to move the material aside. I just need release.
Mathieson pulls me away from the window and steps backwards with me still clutched against him. My free hand slides over his strong arm, the veins pronounced against his skin. Touching him sends my need spiking. What the hell is wrong with me? He feels all too familiar. I let out a low moan, remembering how he fucked me against a tree in this very forest surrounding the cabin. Or at least, I think he did.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“Fuck, you are burning up!” he exclaims, his free hand clamping around my forehead. “We need to cool you down.” He swoops me up into his arms, and my head falls against his chest, my fingers curling around the collar of his top. He breathes in sharply when my nails dig into his skin, drawing blood.
“Franklin, Berrin!” Mathieson calls, his voice rough, urgent. His fear seeps under my skin but I’m not afraid, I’m too sensitive to his touch to feel anything other than lust.
Painful lust.
It hurts having him touch me.
But it’s what I want most of all.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I mumble, my words sounding strained, slurred, almost like I’m drunk. Drunk and horny.
“What?” Mathieson asks, looking down at me. His gaze is soft, not hard.
“Horny…” I mutter, clutching onto him tighter. “I don’t feel…”
“What the fuck is going on? What have you done to her?” Berrin bites out, stepping into my peripheral vision. He’s angry. I can see a muscle ticking in his jaw. Behind him Franklin looms, a feral look on his face makes me squirm in Mathieson’s arms. I press my eyes shut, the dull throb of a headache like a vice tightening around my forehead.
“She’s sick, arsehole. Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Mathieson retorts.
Berrin must move forward to take me from him, but Mathieson shakes his head. “I’ve got her, Berrin. Back. The. Fuck. Off!”
“Matt…” Franklin begins but Mathieson cuts him off.
“No, Franklin. Don’t look at me like I’m gonna hurt her when all I see is need in your eyes. I. Got. This,” he growls.
When cool fingers rest against my cheek, I jerk in Mathieson’s arms. “She’s burning up. Franklin, go run the bath with tepid water. Too cold and she’ll go into shock,” Berrin orders.
“Fine. Fuck,” Franklin responds, the sound of his heavy steps loud in my ears as he pounds up the stairs.
I groan, burrowing my nose in Mathieson’s chest and breathing in his delicious scent as he holds me close and carries me upstairs and into the bathroom with Berrin close behind us.
“Hang on, okay? We got you,” Mathieson says, his voice gruff.
I squirm in his arms, waves of heat and desire washing over me. Just the smell of him has my skin sizzling and my temperature spiking further. He settles me in his lap as he sits down on the chair I sat on a few days ago whilst watching him fix me a bath. Around us, I’m