The Breaking (The Curse of the Regina Book 1)

by A. P. Marie

  He must be able to see the confusion on my face because he goes on, “For instance, most men in our… community develop physical abilities. We all develop extra strength, enhanced senses, that sort of thing. Some stronger males have extra abilities. Almost entirely they work to protect their mates from physical dangers. Our females develop intellectual abilities. All females develop higher functioning brains, extended memories, and some influential abilities. The stronger females can be psychic, telepathic, have telekinesis, or be empathic. Then mated pairs have some abilities that just work between the two of them. All mated pairs can read each other’s minds and emotions, they have the physical draw to be near each other, and being close to each other makes them healthier.”

  “We aren’t fully mated yet and already you have developed two abilities on your own and we have developed some as a pair.” He holds up his hands to tick them off, “You can tell whether someone is lying or not. That’s a special gift, not all females can do that. You also are seeing visions. I believe that dream you have been having is vision of the future. We can affect each other’s moods. When you are upset, I feel upset, and vice versa. Also, we are developing a connection that is the beginning of mental communication. When you woke me up last night, it wasn’t just that I felt your dream. I could feel you screaming out for me. You were communicating to me in emotions and feelings. Not with your words and sentences, but with your intent.”

  Psychic? That dream is a vision? Of course, the truth thing I understand. But how are we affecting each other’s emotions? And how have I not noticed it?

  “How come you can recognize all of that, but I can’t? Wouldn’t I know if you were affecting my emotions or if I was affecting yours?” God, this whole not being human thing is a real drag. Humans don’t have to worry about this junk.

  “I think you can tell. You just didn’t recognize this as a possibility, so you explained it away as something else.”

  There’s no way this is happening. Right? I mean, I think I would notice. Although he does have a valid point. I can explain away quite a bit when I don’t understand something. Suddenly, I feel terrible that I have been screwing with his emotions and sending him SOS’s in my sleep.

  “I’m sorry. I’m a bad mate, aren’t I?” The question slips out before I can stop it. I could tell you that it stems from a deep-seated need to be accepted, and that would be true, but it also oversimplifies the issue at hand.

  I have never felt like I truly fit in anywhere. Not with my foster families, not when I was along. The closes I have come to feeling like I belong somewhere before this was with Caiden.

  Finally, I have a reason why. Something that makes sense; and yet, I don’t fit in with this world of ‘non-humans’. He’s stuck with me. I have figured out enough to know that mating is permanent. He can’t just choose someone else, and he should. I suck at it.

  It doesn’t even cross my mind that I shouldn’t be worried about him. Or that I just admitted to being his mate. I don’t stop to ponder the implications of my question or consider what it means that these things aren’t occurring to me.

  His face changes instantly. His entire demeanor has changed. He scoots across the couch to wrap me in his arms. I can see sincere sympathy on his face, but there’s something else too. Joy? Elation? He’s trying not to show me too much, but something has made him extremely happy.

  “No, Emily. You are everything I have ever dreamed of. I am not able to imagine a more perfect being.”

  Zander uses his index finger to pull my chin up and suddenly we are nose to nose. His piercing blue eyes take up my entire line of sight. He has scooted so close to me that our bodies are touching all of the way down. My shoulder is against his chest, his arms are wrapped around me, our hips, thighs, and knees are all pushed firmly against each other.

  For the first time I’m close enough to really smell him and it’s like finding heaven. Looking into his eyes, feeling his body, smelling his distinct aroma, he’s all I can think about. There is no room left in my brain for what-ifs or minor details- like the fact that he kidnapped me. He’s everywhere and the base parts of my being rejoice. I lean nearer to smell him, and feel him, and see him better. I can feel his breath on my lips as he stares me down.

  I would like to be able to say that what happens next is some scheme on my part. Like, maybe if he believes I really want to stay here he’ll lighten up security and I’ll be able to escape. The truth is, in this moment, I’m not thinking about any of that. I’m thinking about how his lips would feel against mine and the desire to find out is so damn strong I literally cannot hold myself back. Slowly, I lean into him until our lips are touching. Like the first time he ever touched me, my body responds to him. The tingling increases ten-fold and immediately I lose all sense of sanity I ever possessed. If I ever possessed any at all.

  Zander brings his hand up and threads his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back and effectively deepening the kiss. Without any logical decision, I swing my leg over his lap and straddle him to get a better angle on the kiss. His lips taste like honey and happiness. I run my tongue over his lower lip hoping he’ll allow me entrance. I need to be closer to the source of the smell. Thankfully, he opens his lips and works them against my own.

  For the first time in my life, I develop a dampness between my legs, but it only encourages me to increase the kiss. Parts of my body are responding to him in ways that I have never had them respond before. When Zander moves his other hand slowly down my side, trailing his fingers along the bare skin between my shirt and pants, I moan into his mouth. His hand continues down to cup my ass cheek and my lower abdomen contracts.

  I’ve heard people say that you can’t miss what you haven’t had. This is a bold-faced lie, and I just now realized it. I have never been intimate with a man. Ever. But the growing ache between my thighs serves to pinpoint just how much it is possible to miss it. I need him like I have never needed anything in my life.

  No, maybe that’s wrong. I need him like I need air. Or water. Or food. This isn’t a logical decision I’m making to want him. This is a physical need. If I don’t have him soon my body will not survive it.

  I unlock my arms from around his neck and reach for the buttons of his shirt. Annoyingly, every day Zander dresses in a suit and tie. He tossed his suit jacket on the bed when he started playing games, but he still has way too many articles of clothing on. I start unbuttoning his shirt in a hurry. As my fingers trail down his abdomen to the last button his dress shirt falls open. His chest and abs are a work of art.

  I want to taste them, so I do. I run my tongue along the crevices between his pecks and then across the top of his defined ab muscles. It elicits a deep growl in the back of his throat that causes heat to rush below my belly button.

  I run my hands up his abs, along his shoulders, and down his arms, pushing his shirt off of him as I go. He has to release my ass to let his shirt fall all of the way off and I mourn the loss of contact. While his hands are free, he runs them around the skin right above my pant line. When his fingers trail to the skin under my belly button my lower abdominal muscles jump around like they are being electrocuted.

  So slowly, he grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it all the while trailing his fingers along my newly exposed skin. When my shirt is laying on the ground at our feet, he pushes his chest against mine. The tingles his body creates with mine are going absolutely crazy at all of the skin to skin contact. A deep moan rumbles from my throat. It’s a sound I didn’t even know my body was capable of making.

  Zander pulls back from me and I almost stop him, until he drops his head to place kisses along the soft mounds peeking out from the top of my bra. His touch is my oxygen. It amazes me that I have been able to live this long without this. I throw my head back and push my center tighter against him. All of this kissing and touching has amped up the feeling of need between my thighs. As I lean into him, I feel a hard bulge in his pants that provides the friction I need. The world could fall down
around me right now and it wouldn’t be enough to bring me back down to earth.

  Zander moves one hand behind my back and the other to the underside of my ass as he lifts me and lays me down on the couch with his body hovering over mine. He trails kisses over my jaw, down my neck, and across my collar bone. His mouth takes up a leisurely pace kissing and running his tongue over my body. When he reaches my belly button my muscles begin jumping under him. His hands roam over my jean clad legs and that separation of our skin is too much for me. I need him to be touching me everywhere.

  His fingers unsnap the button on my pants and he slowly pulls them down my legs. His kisses dip even lower as he tosses my pants aside. Gently, he runs his finger along the edges of my panties, and I bite my lip to keep from begging him. Looking up at my I can see the question in his eyes, so I nod in response. I don’t know where this is going, but I want it.

  He kisses down over my panties and when he reaches my most sensitive spot, I wriggle underneath him. His fingers dip inside my panties and I fear I may combust. My body is reacting so strongly to everything he does. It’s like he was made for me and I was made for him. Our bodies were meant to be here, doing this.

  Zander pulls my panties down my legs like he has all the time in the world. He is taking his time before he returns his mouth to my skin. He kisses lower and lower until I feel him there. His tongue makes contact with my center and I nearly come undone. My body is tingling in response to him. It belongs to him and with my hazy brain I can’t think of why I hadn’t admitted this before. His tongue works rhythmically against me and I squirm under him. When he adds his fingers to the mix, it becomes struggle to stay coherent. The joint combination of his mouth and hand are all it takes to send me over the edge.

  When I come down from my post-orgasmic high, I see Zander smirking hugely over me. I reach for his pants, but he grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth to plant a light kiss.

  “I think that’s probably enough for today. He says it as calmly as if he were watching the news.

  “You don’t want to have sex with me?” I’m torn between thinking he really is crazy and being incredibly embarrassed. I’m not sure many men would refuse sex with a naked girl laying under him. Maybe I did something wrong?

  He must see the embarrassment on my face because he instantly goes into soothing mode. “Of course, I want to have sex with you. I don’t know that I have ever wanted anything more than that. I just don’t think now is the time.” Odd, he is telling the truth.

  “Why isn’t now the time? We’re here and I’m willing. What more do you want?” I don’t mean to sound crass but in my current state of undress after I just had my first orgasm ever, I don’t seem to have the ability to sensor my thoughts.

  Uncertainty flashes across his face. “It’s just that… our bodies are designed to want each other. They physically need each other, but I don’t want that to be why this happens between us. You’re still not sure how you feel about me and I can’t be sure that you won’t regret it in the morning. I can’t deal with that. So, we’ll wait. When you know how you feel about me and I know you won’t regret us being together then, and only then, will I make love to you.” Truth.

  He is still hovering over me and while the orgasm certainly helped, I still feel desire racing through my body. What he is saying may be the sexiest thing I have ever heard. It’s hot, because it shows me that this is more than just physical.

  His decision, not to take this any farther, tells me more about him than I have learned in the last week all together.

  Chapter 7

  Friends?

  Zander stays with me that evening until after dinner when he leaves to go ‘do some work.’ When he leaves, he gives me a quick kiss on my lips. Even that brief contact is enough to get my hormones surging again. As soon as he is gone, I change right into my pajamas and get into bed. I’m not necessarily tired but I need to think, and bed is always the best place for serious thinking.

  A retaliation hits me as I am getting into bed. I just had sex for the first time. Granted it wasn’t penetration, but oral sex is still sex. Right? That’s what bible school with foster family #3 taught me. Stranger than that though is that I just had oral sex with a man I have only known for a week. A man that stalked me, kidnapped me, and is currently holding me prisoner. It’s a pretty nice prison and I can really do whatever I want, except leave. Morally, I know that sex is supposed to mean something and be with someone you love. Oddly though, I don’t feel bad about what happened. Not in the least. Actually, I feel, for the first time, like I belong somewhere.

  Before today when I thought about sex, I expected a serious amount of embarrassment and awkwardness. I’ve never even been fully naked in front of a man before today. For whatever reason though, embarrassment is the farthest thing from my mind. Even when I was spread underneath him completely naked, I felt no embarrassment. Being with him, like that, felt right. Except for that single moment when he refused to have sex with me, I never even questioned if, in my inexperience, I was doing something wrong. At the risk of sounding like a cliché, he felt like home.

  I drift off to sleep, no longer thinking about embarrassment or right and wrong. Instead, as I drift off to sleep, I’m reliving this afternoon and daydreaming about more encounters in the future. I’m remembering the sense of peace I felt in his presence and the last thought I have before I drift off is that it felt familiar. Obviously, not what we did, that was new. But something about it was familiar. I just can’t figure out what it reminds me of.

  That night I have the dream again. Only this time I recognize the sense of loss a little better. I’m surprised to find that it isn’t an item that I’ve lost. It’s a feeling. At the beginning of the dream, I have a sense of completeness. A sense of home. But, somehow, that feeling is missing by the end of the dream. I sit up in bed breathing heavily and trying hard to keep the tears at bay.

  Right as a new round of hysterics overtake me, Zander comes running in the room, panic evident on his face. He runs right up to me in bed and places his palm against my cheek. The small contact soothes me better than anything I have been able to accomplish after the dream in the past week, and I suck in huge gulping breaths under his calming touch. It’s clear by the surprise on Zander’s face that he did not intend to touch me like this, I lean my cheek farther into his palm as my breathing finally slows enough to let me think straight.

  “Our connection is growing. I could... hear you.” Zander is staring into my eyes and clearly trying to calm himself down also.

  “I’m sorry I woke you up.” Really, I am. It must suck being so connected to an emotional basket case. I can’t even keep my dreams from waking him up.

  “It’s fine. You never have to be sorry for that. It’s my job to be here for you. It would be easier if we were nearer to each other.” The panic finally starts ebbing from his face as he sits heavily on the edge of my bed, still making contact with my skin.

  “So, you don’t have to run as far?” I ask only half joking.

  “Well, that’s certainly something. But it’s also about our connection. My presence should calm you. In a normal situation you don’t necessarily need that calming but during visions your body needs me near.” He answers as he runs his palm up my bare arm. It does seem to be true that his presence calms me. Already, the remnants of the dream have faded and all I feel is tired. “Think of what is between us like an addiction. I’m the nicotine habit you have been trying to kick. On a good day, when everything is fine, you can resist me. It’s when you stress out or get upset that the craving hits.”

  “If you were nearer, would the dream still wake us both up?”

  “I can’t say for sure. I would think not, though.” I ponder that for a minute. I could really use a good night’s sleep and so could he. I scoot over and lift the corner of my comforter.

  “Okay, get in. No funny business though. I need to sleep.”

  I feign nonchalance, but in reality, I’m freaking out. I have
never had a man sleep in my bed with me and I’m a little worried about how this will affect our relationship. I’m living in his house. We had oral sex on my couch today. Now he’s sleeping in my bed with me. Clearly, this looks like we’re a couple and I’m not sure I’m okay with that. How long can I continue fighting these desires though? I crave his presence constantly. It makes sense that we would be near each other often.

  He watches my face, looking for some sign that I’m not okay with this. He won’t find it. If this lets us sleep better, than I am all for it. He crawls into the bed beside me and lays down. I notice he is only wearing a pair of boxers, which does nothing to tame my desire for him. I roll onto my side facing away from him hoping that I can forget he is in bed with me at all.

  “You know, it is fairly normal for people who are not in a relationship to share a bed during sleepovers and such.” He says. I suppose he is reading my emotions again and can feel my confusion so he’s trying to make this easier for me.

  “That’s true for children. I’m not sure it works the same way for adults…” I trail off. It’s clear that I’m not completely comfortable with this, but I don’t want him to think it’s any more than that.

  “I don’t hate you.” I blurt out. I don’t know if he thinks I do or not. I don’t know what he thinks. In reality, I don’t know what I think. I can’t give him love. Not yet. I want him. I need to be near him. I’m beginning to trust him to look out for me. I don’t know if that makes us friends… or something more? All I know is, I don’t hate him.

  He laughs quietly. “I don’t hate you either. Now go to sleep.” He snuggles into position on his side of the bed carefully not touching me, giving me the space he thinks I need. Part of me is glad for that. I do need space. But, another part of me thinks he is way too far away and wants nothing more than to sleep snuggled in his arms.