Sick Fux - Page 40

I calmed as the crest of the wave peaked and I began to come down. My eyes fluttered open, and my legs flopped around the water with a splash. I drew in slow breaths and stared up at the ceiling.

Shock and surprise ran through me. I swallowed hard. I lifted my hand and stared at my fingers, wondering what they had just made me feel. As I lowered my hand, I heard a creak outside of the bathroom. I washed quickly, then got out of the tub and ran a towel over my body and through my hair.

I pulled the nightgown over me and brushed my long hair. I glanced in the mirror, then, pleased with how I looked, opened the door to the bedroom.

And I paused, breath held in my throat, when I saw Rabbit on the floor, shirtless, repeatedly curling his body up from his torso. He must have heard me because he stopped, abdominals tensed, holding his body still, and met my gaze.

I swallowed as I ran my eyes over his body. His muscles were tight. Not large, but not a single layer of fat marred them. And his skin—not an inch of bare flesh could be seen. Tattoos ran over his arms, his chest, his torso and his neck.

I . . . liked them.

Clock after clock after clock.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

Without saying a word, Rabbit got to his feet, covered in a light sheen of sweat. He was wearing dark sleep pants on his legs. As he stood, my eyes were drawn to his crotch. A large bulge lay underneath, obvious under the thin material. Rabbit moved his arm, and my eyes snapped to his. He was watching me, cheeks flushed and lips parted. His breathing seemed as unsteady as my own.

But I didn’t understand what was happening.

He turned abruptly, and a louder gasp fell from my lips at the sight of his back. My hand covered my mouth in shock, and Rabbit’s shoulders tightened. His neck stiffened, then he slowly looked over his shoulder at me.

“Rabbit . . .” I murmured and dropped my hand from my mouth. My feet dragged me forward, my eyes once again focused on his back.

The tattoo . . . the tattoo on his back, was . . .

“Me,” I whispered as I stopped just a hairsbreadth from Rabbit’s back. My hand rose of its own accord, yet it did not touch his skin. It did not touch the familiar pair of blue eyes, the long blond hair I knew so well, nor the pink lips, coated in the lipstick that my lips were never seen without.

“Rabbit.” I traced—from a distance of half an inch—every bit of my face . . . right down to the shoulders that wore a dress made of blue.

That of Alice.

That of me.

Rabbit’s head turned away and fell forward, showing me only the ends of his black hair and the large pocket watch design that graced the back of his neck. “You were all I thought about,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I knew I had to come and get you. Find you, rescue you.”

“Rescue me . . .” I echoed. “From the room of doors?”

Rabbit tensed again and turned to face me. I had to tilt my head up to look at his impressive height. I inhaled his scent, the musky aroma filling my nose. The muscles in his chest twitched as I stared at his magnificent body. His cheeks flushed.

“Yes,” he eventually replied. His hand started to rise, but it clenched into a fist and lowered back down to his side. “All I saw was your face . . . where I was being kept. All I saw were these blue eyes. This blond hair . . . those pink-painted lips.” I lifted my fingers to my lips and traced the flesh. “You were the prophecy. You were always meant to come to Wonderland and defeat the bad men, ending with the King of Hearts.”

“You marked your skin with my image to remind you of your mission. To lead me through this challenge to defeat the king and his men,” I said knowingly.

Rabbit stalled for a second, then nodded. “Exactly that.” His lip twitched. “And now I have found you. My little champion.”

I smiled, liking the sound of that. “My guide,” I offered in return.

We did not speak for many seconds. We just stared into one another’s eyes. Then my eyes drifted to his body, as though they were being pulled by an invisible force. I wanted to run my finger along his stomach. My gaze dipped lower.

I wanted to run my hand over the bulge at his crotch.

I began to tingle between my legs again, and my face blazed as I recalled how touching myself there made me feel.

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024