I am in Emiliano's arms once again.
And it's warm.
I can't hear what he is saying.
It could be my pheromones finally calming down.
Could be my collapse finally happening.
Or just the fact that I'm grateful to be alive.
After Lior died because of me, after I left Killian collapsed in his own pool of vomit-
I am relieved to be alive.
How selfish.
I feel the tears I tried to suppress for so long dropping unstoppably on Emiliano's shirt.
My fingers cramp around his neat button-up, desperate to glue his chest to my face.
His scent is so calming. Soft. Invasive.
Vanilla relaxing my muscles.
The black pepper making me dizzy.
The charred wood scent, like a soft firework in a mountain cabin.
I can't stop breathing his pheromones in.
Nuzzling my nose in his collarbone, ripping his top, buttons flying everywhere.
And he is holding me.
I am melting, shivering, starving for him and he holds me. Talks to me.
It's ringing in my ears like a reassuring hum.
His skin is so warm.
He doesn't flinch when I'm snuggling more deeply in his hug, heating my hands on his stomach, under the shirt.
Why?
Why am I doing this?
I could have had the same type of warmth with Killian too. They are both killers.
So why?
Why is Emiliano feeling like home while Killian repulsed me?
I flinch.
No.
When I raised my head to comfort him, his gaze was already pinning me down.
"Did you figure it out, honey?"
Pheromones.
He's making my body weak- no.
Needy for his scent.
How?
"You're curious? Let's get a room. Unless you like being watched."
I only now notice the crowd—phones out, whispering, filming.
And I've been missing for a month.
I wanna pull myself away, show my face-
Yet, the gentleness of his touch, the comforting smell and all the tiredness kept me glued exactly in the position he wanted.
Couldn't even tell when we reached a room.
I could hear the door closing behind.
Then the Walmart softness of the cheap mattress.
F—k, I'm trapped.
He placed me on the corner of the bed and gaze at me.
Those honey-laced eyes affixed me. I can't breathe properly when my eyes meet his.
He's smirking, then slowly backed away turning his back on me.
Scr-w you for always having the upper hand.
No.
Not tonight.
Tonight, you're mine.
"If you wonder why the effect of my pheromones on you is so effective, I will have to remind you that you were injected with different substances. IVs, injection per se- I am sure you're aware."
He loosened his tie and ruffled his hair.
Not looking back at me.
"All of them had one common denominator was my pheromones lacing them. That means, as long as I am around you, I can control your physical desire and reactions by controlling my pheromones located in your blood."
He stops the moment my hands start to roam freely on his back- one on the nape of his neck, the other turning dangerously lower and lower on his abdomen.
He chuckled. But was too controlled-
Too sterile.
Too fake for me to not recognize it.
He's flustered.
As flustered as a psychopath can be at least.
Got you now, smart b—tard.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His voice is low- guttural.
Ravished.
I don't respond.
My cold fingertips are running traces from under his bust, onto his abdomen to the brim of his underwear.
My lips on the other hand are pressed on his neck. Licking, sucking, biting.
The small bite made him shiver violently, covering the wounded place with his hand.
An instinct.
Not more since the next second he pinned me into the dusty mattress.
His eyes were no longer gleaming with satisfaction.
They were burning. Literally turning red.
His breath was pouring down on me- heavy and irregular.
A forehead vein twitched. His grip tightened to the point of pain.
His smell became spiced, more flammable.
Not so smug now, are we?
"Stop it. You don't want to push that limit."
"Or what? Are you gonna starve me again? Kill another friend of mine in front of me?"
A smile.
No.
A threat disguised as curved lips.
The power is slipping. F—k.
"You want to have me? Make you cry and beg and moan my name? While your dear savior is half dead laying in his own vomit?"
Killian.
No.
He's fine.
He can resist my pheromones to a point.
Right?
Right.
Right?
I can feel Emiliano smiling as he lowers his head near my ear.
"What is going to be, my dear wife? Obedience or a little show for the one who saved you?"