Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
The cottage has one bedroom, and I hesitate at the door.
It must have been her bedroom. But it was also where she kept us, for a little while. It was where she kept me when she tortured Hansel.
Not wanting to make this any worse for Hansel, I lift my chin and go inside. One foot after the other even though my body feels frozen and unmoving.
It’s as dim as the rest of the cottage, but I attack all the cobwebs and brush some of the dust off the window. Not quite looking and thinking of the fire.
I lean the broom in the corner and move to the bed. It’s big enough for two people, but I want the faded blanket off. I pull it away from the mattress, fold it up, and stack it in a free corner. There’s a chest at the foot of the bed, and I open it, hoping—
Yes. There’s another quilt inside. I shake that one out and spread it out on the bed. All the while my heart races and my mind begs me not to think of anything. The back of my eyes sting with the memories. I can hardly breathe.
It was so awful here, and it was all my fault. Hansel shouldn’t forgive me. He shouldn’t touch me ever again. He was right, and I was wrong, and I’ve always been wrong, and—
“Maybe we don’t need to stay,” I manage, and turn to face Hansel directly behind me. “Maybe—”
He closes the distance between us and puts one hand on my waist, the other on my chin. Hansel tilts my face to his and looks into my eyes.
He doesn’t look blank anymore. He doesn’t look like a stranger. He looks like the boy I knew, grown into a man and hurt badly along the way. There’s so much pain in his eyes that I can’t believe he’s not crying.
No tears well up. He rakes his eyes over my face, his thumb tracing a path over my bottom lip.
Hansel lets out a breath. “Gretel it’s okay.”
“I don’t think we have to stay,” I whisper in a rush. I’m the one with tears slipping onto my cheeks, and I can’t stop them. “I’m not afraid to travel at night, as long as I’m not—” I stumble over the words. “As long as I’m not alone. We shouldn’t stay here. We should never have come here in the first place. We—”
“Shh.” Hansel runs his thumb over my lips until I quiet. “Never have I ever—”
“Hansel, please. You don’t have to—”
“Never have I ever fucked anyone in this house,” he says, stealing my breath. “But I want to. I want to claim every inch of you. I want to change what this place means to me. I want you. I want this house to know the sounds you make under me. I want you to know what pleasure is.”
My entire body trembles. It’s cold in the bedroom—the heat from the oven hasn’t had a chance to fill the cottage yet—but it’s not the temperature that overwhelms me. It’s Hansel’s touch. Every nerve ending is lit aflame.
“I’ve never,” I whisper. No one has ever spoken to me like that. No one’s ever looked at me the way he does now. My body bows to his, with an aching need.
“I know,” he says, and kisses me. Deeply and with a devotion that ignites a lust within me. A desire I’ve had for years.
It’s slower than it was in the wagon. He tastes my mouth, exploring with his tongue, and pulls my waist closer to his.
This is the heat I’ve craved. This is what I’ve needed, and I’ve been so lonely without it. So hopeless. Every day I spent apart from Hansel was worse than the last, but his kiss chases away some of the ache.
His body is so strong against mine. He’s so familiar. I have never wanted anyone like I want Hansel. I never thought I had a chance at feeling this again. I thought I’d lost him forever. I thought I’d have to spend the rest of my life wondering what it meant like to be loved by him.
I gasp, my emotions swelling up and spilling over before the reality comes back. Here? In this cottage? Where he suffered so much, and I couldn’t help him? Should we really be doing this? Shouldn’t we be running back to the village, where everything is ruined but at least we can sit by the fire together?
“Gretel,” he says my name and I only stare back at him, wanting nothing more than to lose myself in his touch. “Kiss me,” he orders. “Kiss me and forget all about it.”
Chapter Five
Hansel
I want to forget, too.
I want to replace every memory I have in this cottage with memories of Gretel. Only Gretel.
I want to forget about the witch, and what she did to us. I want to burn those memories in the oven and watch them turn to ash.