Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara shot upright in bed, gulping in air, her forehead damp with sweat.

Her eyes were unfocused as she looked at him. "What?"

Dylan's hands hovered stiffly over his laptop, veins standing out, but his face gave nothing away-calm, almost distant.

"What did you dream about?"

She frowned, digging for the memory, but all she could grab was a heavy,

uncomfortable feeling pressing down on her chest.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Dylan's.

"Babe, can we not sleep here tomorrow night? I really don't like this place."

She slipped into her old, familiar way of whining-Clara had always been good at that, ever since she was little.

She was always so sweet and obedient, stubborn but adorable, a little clueless, a lot innocent.

Clara watched his face, searching for a hint of warmth, scooting closer to press a few soft kisses to the corner of his lips.

"Please?" she murmured.

He didn't say a word, just closed his laptop slowly.

Suddenly, Clara felt a chill radiating off him-cold, almost sharp. She loosened her hold on his arm, uneasy.

He set the laptop aside, folded up the tray table, then glanced at her. "Are you scared of me?"

She dropped her head and stayed quiet. She had no idea what had set him off. Then, out of nowhere, he cupped her face in his hands, staring at her.

her eyes, leftovers from her

really saw him-not even a reflection. But in her dreams, she

he'd never be able to open

He'd tried everything.

widened, searching his face. "What's wrong,

let go of her face,

lips together, hesitated, then

eyelids, then

looked at him,

Still mad?

dropped her head, kissing his jaw, then

Adam's apple bobbed. He reached over and patted her head gently, almost

maybe he'd let it go. She was just about

"Mark me."

voice was soft, turning

how? Right where you kissed me. Make it deep, so it never goes

blinked, not really sure

loose shirt,

in and bit down, hard enough

out, just froze for a second before relaxing

fierce, like he wanted

he rested his forehead on her shoulder, his eyes

he'd drawn blood, and there'd definitely be a

what he meant

his collarbone, then leaned

spot-when he wore a

go easy, but remembering his bite, she didn't hold

then held on even harder, just because