Trapped (Part One) - BWWM Dark Romance - Zombie Apocalypse

Trapped (Chapter 9)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I feel I must give you another heads up/warning about domination themes! Proceed at your own risk. ;)

CHAPTER NINE

Steven sat in the driver's seat, mulling over everything that he had told Serena.

He had wanted to confess that he had more than an inkling of what Gregory had felt for her, and that he now understood the mindless sense of devotion he had seen displayed by his best friend and others, but never quite got until recently.

He had never felt so drawn to another human being the way Serena hypnotized him.

After their first few lovemaking sessions, he had started up the APC but began heading in the opposite direction—away from the sanctuary—and he realized that he had lost his mind; he had completely lost sight of his initial mission.

The truth was that he didn't want to feel like he was that much closer to having to let go of her, and he wanted to make sure he could spend more time with Serena before he had to give her up, possibly forever.

Steven knew that he scared her—he knew that she was helpless to him whenever he decided he wanted to use her body. And although Serena hadn't done anything to torment him beyond sitting in front of him, dripping wet in a towel, he felt tortured by her still, far beyond his physical and sexual attraction to her.

He now had the power to take her anytime he wanted, but it wasn't enough; something else was missing—some other part of her he wanted—and he wasn't sure what it was or how to get it.

Serena was still holding something back from him beyond her warm mouth, and it was all that he could focus on. He needed it. Wanted it. Had to have it.

But first, he had to figure out what it was.

Somehow, she hadn't completely surrendered to him—he hadn't been able to rip all of her power from her and claim her completely.

Perhaps when he did, he would get his own mind back.

* * *

Steven needed to go for a walk. No—a jog.

He wished that he could go for a run like he used to before the outbreak, almost every day at six a.m. when he was home on his four- to six-week vacation.

He would throw on his T-shirt and jogging shorts to clear his mind and calm his spirit for the day with the endurance required for that five-mile run.

The exercise helped him forget what he had left behind—the missions, the plotting, the carnage—and the endorphins helped him get started on a good mood for the day.

Away at work, his brain was cluttered with duty, but at home, on reprieve from it, his brain was free to focus on other things.

Sometimes he ran to shake off a torturous dream he had awakened to find had deceived him into feeling Serena's presence. The fog clearing from his brain, he realized that Serena hadn't actually put her arms around him while sleeping next to him, and that she hadn't admitted she wanted him or found a moment to kiss him in secret after all.

Steven ran to shake off all the silent tortures of not being able to have her, his nagging desires.

Sometimes, he succeeded, but on other days, he still had trouble getting Serena out of his mind and resisting the need to find an excuse to see or talk to her.

He knew that he was only digging himself into a deeper hole, yet the lack of contact with Serena almost seemed as dangerous as being in contact with her.