Chapter 72
Valencia’s POV
I had made a huge mistake. Not running away–that decision still felt necessary, still felt like the only choice I had.
But I hadn’t remembered to take my pills.
The heat pooling in my belly carlier? Yeah, that hadn’t been just reaction to the memory of Dante.
My heat was beginning.
It wasn’t supposed to start for another week. I had planned for that week–I’d had everything carefully laid out in my mind. But my body didn’t care about plans. My body had decided that how was the perfect time to betray me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered, pressing my palm against my forehead. My skin felt clammy, a thin sheen of sweat already forming even though the room was freezing.
I looked over at Castor’s egg which I had put down onto the hotel’s flat pillow’s
I was in trouble.
!
My stomach growled loudly, a reminder that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast at the hospital. I’d been too nervous to grab lunch after making my escape, and now the hunger gnawed at me, adding to the dizziness that was already threatening to pull me under.
I hadn’t even napped in the Taxi, feeling it too dangerous as I was alone with Castor.
告
Sleep. Hunger. Heat. My body was screaming for relief in every possible way, and I didn’t have the strength to address even one of those things.
I glanced at the old–looking mini–fridge tucked into the corner of the room. It hummed faintly, the only sound breaking the suffocating silence of the room. Maybe there was something in there–anything I could eat.
Dragging myself to my feet, I stumbled toward it, my legs shaky and unsteady. I gripped the handle, pulling the door open with more force than necessary.
“Please let there be something edible,” I muttered under my breath.
The light from inside flickered dimly, revealing… nothing useful. Just cans of beer.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
My stomach growled again, louder this time, and I bit my lip in frustration. My heat was creeping in, the ache in my lower abdomen growing stronger by the second. My head felt foggy, the air too thick and heavy.
Without thinking, I grabbed a can of beer and popped it open. The fizz hissed angrily, and brought it to my lips, chugging it down without a second thought. It was bitter and sour, but I didn’t care.
One can turned into two.
Two turned into three.
By the fourth, I was sprawled on the bed, my head spinning. The room swayed faintly, and my limbs felt heavy. The dull ache of my heat had turned into a full–blown fire, spreading through my veins like molten lava.
I let out a soft groan, clutching Castor’s egg tightly against my chest. The warmth of it was comforting, grounding me even
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Chapter 72
as my body betrayed me.
My mind was a mess, a chaotic swirl of thoughts and emotions that I couldn’t untangle. I was alone. Completely alone. No Marcelene, no Dante, no one to help me.
My eyes drifted to the hotel room’s telephone sitting on the nightstand. I could call the reception desk–maybe they had room service, something I could eat. But when I dialed the number, the line just rang and rang.
Of course. What did I expect from a $20–a–night hotel? Quality service?
I slammed the receiver back down, frustration bubbling up inside me. My fingers trembled as I hugged Castor closer, curling into a fetal position on the bed. Then I felt something poking me from the pocket of my pants.
Frowning, I reached into the fabric and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. My heart skipped a beat as I unfolded it, the words scrawled across the page sending a jolt through me.
Aiden’s phone number.
“Call me if you change your mind.”
I stared at it for a long moment, my mind racing. The thought of calling him–of asking him for help–felt absurd. But… he had told me to call.
“No,” I whispered, crumpling the paper again and tossing it onto the floor. “I can handle this. I’ll be fine.”
Lcould endure this. I just had to ride it out.
My heat was flaring hotter now, and I felt my body trembling with need. My gaze flickered to Castor, guilt pooling in my chest. I couldn’t–wouldn’t–let him see me like this.
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Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the blanket from the bed and carefully draped it over the carrier, covering him completely.
There. Now I could… deal with this.
Heat rolled through me like a tidal wave, and my breath hitched as I pressed my thighs together, trying to ease the ache. My hand moved of its own accord, slipping beneath the waistband of my pants.
I squeezed my eyes shut, shame washing over me even as my fingers worked to alleviate the unbearable tension building inside me.
And then, like a cruel trick of my subconscious, the only image that came to mind was Dante.
His hands gripping my waist. His lips brushing against my neck. The low, rumbling growl of his voice as he whispered my
name.
A soft whimper escaped me as I imagined him pinning me down his strong arms caging me in, his weight pressing against
- me.
Why wasn’t I traumatized by this?
After everything Jaxon had done to me, after years of being pinned down and controlled, why did the thought of Dante dominating me send a shiver of desire down my spine?
I’d heard about this before–how trauma could turn into a kink for some people. I’d always felt bad for them, pitying the way their minds had twisted something so horrific into something pleasurable.
And now I was one of them.
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Chapter 72
My moans grew louder, filling the
empty room as I rode out the fantasy. My body writhed against the mattress, my hand working furiously as I chased a release that felt just out of reach
When I finally came, it hit me like a freight train, my back arching as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
But it wasn’t enough.
My body still burned, still ached with an insatiable need that left me sobbing into the pillow.
By the third orgasm, I was shaking, tears streaming down my face as I lay sprawled on the bed; completely unsatisfied.
My mind had cleared slightly, but the fire in my veins still raged, refusing to be quenched.
My eyes landed on the crumpled piece of paper on the floor.
Aiden’s number.
I stared at it for what felt like an eternity, my heart hammering in my chest.
This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. But what other choice did I have?
With trembling hands, I reached for the hotel telephone, the receiver cold and heavy in my grasp. I punched in the numbers, each beep echoing loudly in the quiet room.
The line rang once. Twice.
And then I heard his voice.
“Hello?”
