Free Web NovelChapter 202: Chapter 202 - The Heat Of Him
Iyisha’s POV
Iyisha woke slowly, like surfacing through thick water.
Her limbs felt heavy, weighed down by something that wasn’t quite exhaustion. Not pain either. Just... different.
Her skin hummed, too sensitive to the cool sheets beneath her, to the shift of air in the room.
She blinked once, twice, her eyelids dragging.
Dark.
She pushed herself up too fast, breath catching as panic hit.
"Calm down. I’m here."
The voice came from her side.
Malcolm.
Moonlight slipped through a broken window, cutting across the room and catching his face.
She looked around, trying to make sense of it. The other room. Gowanus. The cracked walls.
"What... how am I here?"
"Marybeth and Aljun carried you back."
Fragments came back. Hands on her. The street. Being dragged forward.
Why?
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"I... I’m fine. What happened?"
Her body felt wrong. Too aware.
She could hear his breathing. The slow, steady pull of air in and out of his lungs. The faint warmth coming off him, even from a short distance, brushed against her like a touch.
"You controlled the walkers again."
Iyisha stilled, her thoughts scrambling.
"How’s Marybeth?" she asked quickly. She remembered Marybeth surrounded by walkers with no way out.
"She’s fine. You saved her."
She let out a breath, tension easing slightly. "How... how did I use it?"
"The zombies walked out of the shop," he said.
He didn’t move much when he spoke. Just enough to shift in the chair, his gaze staying on her, quiet and watchful.
Iyisha stayed still, letting the heaviness settle into her bones. Her fingers curled weakly into the sheet.
She swallowed.
Her throat felt dry as her eyes drifted back to him. The line of his throat. The movement of his Adam’s apple. The corner of his lips.
She shook her head.
"I remember wanting to save her. Then I got a splitting headache, and... after that, I don’t know what happened."
"We’ll talk about it tomorrow. For now, rest," he said, pressing her back down as he sat beside her.
She nodded and lay back, her eyes still on him.
"Were you worried?" she asked softly.
He didn’t answer. Just brushed her hair away from her face.
She moved without deciding to.
Her hand slipped from the sheet and brushed lightly against his forearm, barely a touch. Skin against skin. The back of her fingers grazing the fine hairs there.
Malcolm stilled.
She should pull back.
She didn’t.
Instead, her hand lifted, fingers sliding up to his neck, her thumb brushing along his jaw.
"I think you got worried," she whispered.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t move away either.
His eyes stayed on hers. Dark. Heavy.
Her skin prickled under his gaze.
Her body reacted before she could stop it.
She swallowed.
"Malcolm..." Her voice came out softer than she meant, rough from sleep.
He shifted slightly, not pulling away, just adjusting where he sat.
Iyisha’s breath deepened.
She should say something else. Ask more. Thank him. Ground herself.
But the words wouldn’t come.
Only that slow pull, tightening under her skin.
Her hand slid lower again, her palm resting against his arm, feeling the solid warmth of him.
The sensation hit stronger this time.
She bit her lip, holding herself there, fighting the urge to lean closer, to follow it.
Malcolm leaned down slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
His lips brushed hers in a soft kiss.
Iyisha’s fingers tightened at the back of his neck, pulling him in harder.
The kiss deepened instantly, turning hot and urgent. Her mouth opened under his, her tongue sliding against his with a hunger that surprised even her. She moaned softly into the kiss as she sat up fully, the sheet slipping down around her waist.
Without breaking the kiss, she shifted, swinging one leg over his lap until she was straddling him in the chair.
Her body pressed flush against his, hips settling over the growing hardness she could already feel beneath his clothes.
The contact made her gasp against his mouth.
She couldn’t understand it. It wasn’t a rush. It was too much. Too sharp. Like her body didn’t know what to do with everything it was feeling. She felt so alive. Every nerve ending sang, her skin burning wherever it touched his.
The warmth radiating from him felt like fire across her sensitive skin. His scent, clean sweat, something dark and masculine, the faint trace of gun oil and the heat, filled her senses until all she could think was him.
Malcolm’s hands found her waist, gripping firmly as the kiss turned messy and desperate. Tongues tangled, breaths mixed between kisses. Iyisha rocked against him once, and the friction drew another low moan from her throat.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, chest rising and falling, eyes dark.
"You should rest," he said, voice rough.
Iyisha didn’t answer.
She moved closer, pressing the slick heat between her legs against the hard bulge in his lap. Even through the fabric, the pressure made her whimper. She leaned in, dragging her tongue slowly up the side of his neck.
He smelled good. Strong.
She sank her teeth into the muscle where his neck met his shoulder, biting just enough to mark him.
Malcolm groaned, low, his hips pushing up against her. The movement sent a sharp jolt through her, pulling a soft cry from her lips.
"Iyisha," he breathed, one hand sliding up her back, fingers tangling in her hair while the other held her hip tighter, keeping her against him as he moved again, slower this time.
She licked over the mark she left, then kissed her way back to his mouth, pulling him into another kiss. Her body moved on its own, grinding down against him in a slow, needy rhythm, chasing the friction as her sensitive skin burned with every point of contact.
The world outside faded.
The zombies. The danger. The questions.
Gone.
There was only him.
The heat of him.
The way he felt beneath her.
And for the first time since waking, Iyisha didn’t feel heavy.
She felt electric.
