Escape:Target D916 Book 2 |✓|

Chapter 6

Breath in, breath out. Sabrina's chest rose at every small, luxurious breath she took. Her eyelids shut, her lashes fluttering, she slept.

Draven's eyes roamed over her lips. Pink, plump and full was all he could ever want. God, he wanted his lips against hers. The thought roamed his mind every minute as he watched her sleep peacefully.

For hours, he tried to stare at her as if she hadn't been the sun of his day, the brightness, the golden gleam that shone on his and her skin, her face, enlightening every feature etched on there. He failed countless times, she had been the sun with or without his gaze.

The restraints should have lowered his attraction, made him remember he couldn't trust her, but it only incited his hot thoughts further as he imagined her being cuffed to the bed post, withering over his tongue. Oh, how she would scream for mercy. Mercy being a word he didn't show, he wouldn't to her either. Not until he was finished.

Only one of her arms had been bound, giving her the ability to twist and turn as she pleased into a comfortable position. He hadn't gotten a second of sleep.

She was feeble, yes, not capable of violence, true. Still, that could have only been an act, only how she wanted him to see her; therefore he hadn't dropped his guard-at least not completely.

Something about what she said yesterday set him unease, over the edge.

You truly don't know who you are, do you?" She whispered. "What have they done to you?"

He wondered who were she referring to, and what had she thought they done to him. As for not knowing who he truly were, what did she mean by that? Of course, he knew who he were. A soldier, an assassin who followed commands and orders from someone he may or may not have met before. A killer, simple.

Still, he needed more speculation from her, more clarification.

At least he were certain of one thing. Sabrina had been in love with him, and yet he couldn't remember a single thing about her. Only remembered being tortured for her. He had that brand to prove it, the scars. If past Draven felt she had been worthy to endure pain for, he must have felt strongly for her as well. Maybe he had been using her. His eyebrows raised, yes, that seemed realistic.

Then again, a part of him broke at the small thought that the Draven she knew, were real. Maybe he had changed. Then the other part of him raged with questions of why had he never cared to ask questions? Why did he never care? Why did he suddenly question things now?

His head snapped down at the small contact of her warm, small fingers, and his rose to meet hers. She was smiling. Right then and there he felt perfection. Her smile instilled poise in everything and godliness in every simple, careless gesture.

Her hand cupping his face brought him back into reality as he watched her smile waver, becoming a frown. She noticed his tiredness and sat up, concerned.

"Why didn't you sleep?" She whispered, and once again, he couldn't help the feelings swarming through him. The feeling of wanting to look at her all the time rather of nature, art and expensive portraits sold at auctions. Not even they were worth her beauty.

He hadn't wanted to ruin the intimate moment with his answer, but as if she read his mind, her eyes rolled.
"You seriously think I can harm you?"

"Have you harmed me before?" He questioned in return. He had not truthfully thought she could harm him, but it were a good excuse to watch her sleep, besides he were curious about the question. Maybe if she harmed in the past, she would again and in return he could feel less trust in her.

She lowered her eyes to her fingers, and he felt a pit in his heart. He wasn't sure whether he was relieved she had hurt him or upset that she did. "Not physically" She mumbled, and his ears perked with interest. Then he shook the thought away, not wanting to dig deeper.
Still, the revelation of being hurt by her cut him deep.