Bloom: A Dark Romance (The Order, 1)

by Nikki Rae

  “Yes, Elliot,” I said, his name finally flowing off my tongue.

  Instead of closing my eyes again, I kept them trained on him. I didn’t exactly think I was convincing him that I was suddenly unafraid, but I wanted to show him that I was willing to try not to be.

  In slow movements, he repositioned himself so his hands were supporting most of his weight so he was hovering above me. My breath caught in my throat, but I pushed it out, replaying what he had told me he was going to do. It was actually helpful in calming my nerves.

  “I’ll let you kiss me first, Fawn,” he murmured, the lower half of him still at my side, most likely so I wouldn’t think about that part of him. It seemed as though he was trying to ease me into this vulnerable place where he would eventually be on top of me. It was only now that I fully believed he was trying his best to make me comfortable, put me at ease so the experience was more or less positive.

  With all I had in me, I strained my neck to meet him. The hand at the back of my head made it easier, pushing me forward but not forcing. He wanted me to take my time. He didn’t want to scare me.

  My lips met his and I closed my eyes as he returned the action. He tasted different than last time, and I wasn’t sure what it was. This was warmer, more patient and practiced. Had the use of our names really changed all that much?

  “Very good, Fawn,” he whispered against my mouth. “Still frightened?”

  “No,” I said. “Not now.”

  I felt his lips form a smile before he continued, his tongue gently coaxing mine to play with his. At first, I was self-conscious, but little by little, the more I relaxed, reminded myself that he wasn’t going to hurt me and that at the end I would have more information and skills at my disposal, I…began to enjoy it.

  I didn’t pause when his lips roamed my face, planting soft kisses on my cheeks and along my jaw. I even moved my head backwards, back into the grass, so he could continue down my neck, sucking and biting with more intensity than before.

  Every bit of my body became electric and alive, ignited by any place he touched. The muffled voice in my mind told me I shouldn’t like this, that I was giving him exactly what he wanted, but I found that I wanted it, too. I wanted him to touch me more, make me feel good and make me go blank.

  He was just next to my ear when he stopped, eliciting a whimper from my throat. He softly laughed. “Just making sure you don’t come yet,” he whispered before returning to my mouth a moment. “Spread your legs.”

  My face flamed and I fought the urge to throw him off. Gradually, I bent my knees and did as he asked. My cheeks grew warmer when I realized just how much I’d wanted this. The evidence was all over my thighs.

  If he noticed, he didn’t indicate it. He kept his brown eyes on me, hands on either side of my face. “Wider,” he whispered with the hint of a smile.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and did as he asked, not wanting him to stop for much longer. I was a slave to my body and what it sought. I couldn’t control it any more than I could control my Owner.

  He moved so he was between them, but thankfully kept his arousal from touching me as he knelt, leaning back on his heels. Although the nightshirt was still covering me, I felt completely exposed; the sheen on the part of my thigh that I could see was mortifying.

  Then, still kneeling, he said, “Sit up slowly.”

  I began to do so, but my head was hazy and I didn’t think it was from the alcohol this time. Truth be told, I didn’t really feel drunk at all anymore. Not from the absinthe.

  Elliot helped me so his arms were wrapped around my body and my knees were on either side of him. He moved my hair out of my face, twisting it and laying it on my back.

  “May I undress you, Fawn?”

  Part of me was confused. Owners never asked permission. They took. They took anything they could until there was nothing left.

  Speechless, I nodded.

  Then carefully, he began to unbutton my shirt.

  I gasped as he helped me sit up and his fingers worked on the buttons down my chest, but it wasn’t from fear. I could feel his hardness, of course, but he wasn’t doing it on purpose that I could tell. He made sure my legs were around his waist, yet the part that scared me the most on his body only grazed the backs of my thighs accidentally when he moved. This time, my cheeks heated for a different reason. I was ashamed to find that I wanted that too, even if I didn’t fully know what it meant.

  “Shhh,” he said against my face, leaning me more against his chest as he continued to free me from the thin, damp fabric. I hadn’t said anything, but it was comforting all the same.

  My nipples were so hard they ached, and I was too afraid to wonder just what they wanted. My chin rested in the crook of his shoulder as the shirt slipped down my arms, leaving me bare.

  “May I touch you?” he whispered.

  I didn’t know what he meant and I didn’t care. All I wanted was him to fan the flames inside me, relieve the pressure between my legs that I could no longer make stronger because of how we sat.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  He kissed my cheek, moving back to my lips. One of his hands stroked my hair as the other slowly traced up my arm, my collarbone, the scar he had made prettier. Then it moved lower, down my chest and to one of my breasts, squeezing gently and making me ache more—everywhere. His fingers circled, then ever-so-gingerly pinched my nipple, making me moan into his mouth as a tingling sensation flitted up my spine, and at the epicenter of where his fingers teased me.

  “Do you like how that feels?” he asked into my ear.

  I shivered and I wasn’t frightened. Not in the least. “Y—yes, s—Elliot.” I was surprised I could form words at this point, let alone remember his name.

  “I’m not hurting you?”

  “N—no.”

  “Are you scared?” His fingers didn’t stop their sweet torture, and I found myself pressing into his palm.

  I could only shake my head.

  It seemed to be a good enough answer for him because he resumed kissing me, moving his mouth down my throat and chest. My hands were in his hair, pushing him on, asking for something I wasn’t aware of.

  My body, however, decidedly knew. His lips were around my nipple and his hand cupped my breast, squeezing and making the sensations even more intense. His tongue flicked and sucked the sensitive skin, and it wasn’t long before my knees were drawn tightly around him, wishing the obstruction of his waist wasn’t there.

  One of his hands traveled down my left thigh, tracing a few of the scars and softly squeezing the flesh there.

  Somehow, this was more intimate than anything he’d done thus far. This was the only remaining reminder of my freedom. It wasn’t meant for men like him. He noticed my tensed muscles and moved on.

  After that, he was careful, contemplating each touch and lingering there to make sure it was okay. My hands were uncontrollable in contrast, roaming the back of his head, the muscles of his bare shoulders. Every time I tried to reel them back in, he was touching me in some new way, setting off nerve endings I’d never been aware of, and my traitorous fingers dug into him as if I was about to fall.

  His mouth moved downward, under my breast and gently biting my sternum. I would have never guessed how sensitive this little section of skin was, but it made me arch my back, silently asking for more.

  Elliot’s fingertips grazed my left knee, running up my inner thigh and slightly parting my legs. I gasped in surprise as he squeezed the part closest to the place I wanted him to touch most. I wanted to protest. I would have settled for being ashamed and mortified. However, none of these urges hit me. They had all been replaced by a need I’d never experienced before. Though I knew I would probably deny it—deny even thinking it—once this was all over, in this moment, as two people with names, two human beings, this need was greater than any I’d ever had. It didn’t compare to how starved the Compound had been keeping me in my last few weeks there. It didn’t come close to the loneliness or t
he need for conversation after being isolated for so long. In fact, for one fleeting moment, I believed that even if there weren’t any promises guaranteed by the end of this, I would have still agreed to let him do whatever he wanted as long as he continued making me feel this way.

  His hand slipped between us then and I was burning so badly I was afraid of growing faint or blacking out.

  His fingers rested on the heat between my legs, which was so sensitive I involuntarily jumped.

  “Shhh,” he soothed against my skin, fingers traveling even lower, touching just the edges of my entrance. I soon found out why he had done this, as his fingers moved back to that tightly wound spot.

  “You’re so wet here, Fawn,” he whispered, leaning back on his heels and separating us just enough so he could see for himself.

  I looked down as well, realizing that nightshirt, while the bottom was still buttoned, had ridden up my waist and I was completely exposed to his gaze.

  Instinctively, I tried to close my legs but to no avail.

  Elliot laughed softly as he let me untangle myself from him. However, he blocked my attempts with a shoulder as he knelt closer to the offending body part. “No use trying to hide it from me now, Fawn,” he said, languidly returning his fingertips to the dark curls there. “I’ve already seen all your secrets.”

  Before I could think of a response, he was on top of me again, careful to keep his weight from crushing me as his lips found the spot on my throat that had so easily betrayed me before.

  My breath left my lungs in a hiss as I relaxed into the grass. It was definitely an odd sensation, half of me completely subdued while the other was tight like a spring waiting to be released.

  I was transfixed on this feeling and hardly realized anything else. I was aware, but it was as if I felt and heard certain things from far away. There was our labored breathing, an occasional, faint growl in the back of his throat. Intermittently, I made my own sounds; a moan or whimper that would have—should have—horrified me if I wasn’t so focused on everything else.

  The only things I was tethered to were my body and what he was doing to it. Whatever this connection was, I was afraid that if he stopped there would be nothing to keep me grounded. I would simply float away into the stars above us.

  It was this focus on such a mysterious and new sensation that made me let my guard down. This time I didn’t notice any tingling, no building. Of course what he had been doing up until now had felt more than good, but suddenly, everything became stars and shards of scenery as I struggled to keep my eyes open, convinced it was the only way I would believe it was real.

  It was incredibly different than last time. Stronger, more intense, and it seemed to last longer. I rode a wave of constellations, stardust filling each pore and culminating until I could feel myself shaking with it, erupting and tensing as I tried to make this pulsing pleasure stretch on.

  I might have made some sound. He might have said something. It didn’t matter. Nothing did. I was no longer in my body. I had somehow climbed into the night sky and I was in no rush to come back down.

  “Good,” I heard him whisper through the fog. “Again.”

  Now I realized why it had been so much different. He was actually touching me this time, fingers slick with my want, toying with the sensitive organ between my legs. He had slowed after my first climax, but now he sped up again. My legs clamped around him and his teeth bit into my shoulder in such a way that I knew wasn’t forceful enough to break skin, but it would have been painful had I not been so aroused. It would leave a mark and I was glad for it. Right now, I believed that this had to be some sort of vivid dream. The kind an exceptionally lonely girl has in the dark with her hands between her legs. If there was evidence, I couldn’t deny it had happened. That this had all been real, and for once, I didn’t want to deny it.

  Slowly, the pressure between my thighs eased and then faded to a dull throb. He kissed my cheeks, sweetly pecking my mouth as he removed his hand and wrapped it around my leg while the other smoothed my hair. He was panting and trying to conceal it. I couldn’t hide how thoroughly exhausted I was as my legs turned to jelly and my head was overcome with a soothing calm.

  I never felt this way. So utterly unconcerned with who I was, those around me, or what would happen next. Excluding the two instances in my Owner’s presence, I had only ever felt this way once before, when I had first escaped to the Safehouse and the girl with wild eyes held my hand. That night, after she had left and told me I was safe, that no one would bother or try to return me to the Compound, I slept the soundest I had in years. Somewhere, I wondered if I would sleep that way tonight. If I could stave off the thoughts of what we had done and what it meant. Before I could make myself feel guilty for enjoying every minute, his thumb smoothed the skin of my cheek.

  “No tears this time,” he said.

  I shook my head, but I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him just yet. Slowly, I could feel myself coming back to my body. Though I was grateful that my thoughts hadn’t returned as of this moment, I couldn’t stop shaking.

  “Look at me,” he whispered.

  I opened my eyes and his brows were drawn together, forehead creased. “Are you cold, Fawn?” He didn’t sound worried, yet his tone was soft, curious.

  Unable to form another answer, I nodded.

  Elliot shifted so he was no longer on top of me and I sat up carefully, watching him as he gathered his pants and shirt from around the pool. I wrapped my arms around my knees, unsure as to why I was trembling so badly. I was a little cold, but not enough to shake.

  Without saying a word, he came back and slipped the pants over my ankles, lifting and positioning me like a doll until they were loosely fastened around my waist. Then he guided my arms through the long sleeves of his shirt, butting it up to my throat.

  He sat in front of me, legs caging me in. “Better?”

  The shaking had ebbed to a slight shudder and I was warm now. “Yes,” I croaked.

  Elliot didn’t appear to be convinced, eyes scanning my expression for any lies. He enclosed me in his arms, smoothing his hands up and down my back as he nestled my head beneath his chin.

  “It’s all right,” he murmured, kissing my hair. “It’s going to be all right.”

  I didn’t think either of us knew what he was trying to soothe in me. Only that I needed it. My cheek melded into his bare chest, my breathing becoming more natural.

  When he pulled away, he kissed my forehead and an odd warmth spread through the skin on my face.

  “Let’s lie down awhile, okay?” He wasn’t quite commanding; I could refuse if I chose to.

  But I could think of nothing else I wanted more.

  Turning on my side, I lowered myself into the grass, positioning an arm beneath my head. He mimicked me, lying behind me and lifting my head so his arm was in my arm’s place.

  His other arm encircled my waist loosely, almost casually. I could feel his nose barely touching my back, but he kept the rest of his body a safe distance away.

  His fingers played against my scalp the same as before this had all begun, lulling my body into a state of calm. “Close your eyes for a little bit, Fawn,” he whispered. “We don’t have to go back just yet.”

  Though I wasn’t sure if he meant back to bed or back to our roles, I agreed with him.

  “I’ll close my eyes as well,” he said. “I’m not ready either.”

  To anyone else, his words would have been confusing, but he knew I would understand. Somewhere, I wondered how he knew I felt the same way: scared of what had just happened, what it meant, and what things would be like when I was Doe and he was Master Lyon again. Somewhere I wondered if this was a trick, or at the very least, when this would all end. When we would go back to Owner and slave. But right now, as my eyes closed, it didn’t matter. Just the dark behind my eyelids as I tried to once again conjure the stars.

  FIFTEEN

  The sound of his deep, even breathing woke me. My eyes shot open as if
I’d been shoved and the world flowed back into focus. It was dark now, only the lights strung from the trees still on. I wasn’t sure if the main lights were on timers or if he had turned them off himself. I just prayed they weren’t motion-activated. Elliot. Was that still his name? Whoever he was now, he lay behind me, arm draped around my middle as if it was natural. I still wore his clothes, so step one was already complete. They were a little big, but they’d work. I could race across the room and then find a way out. Maybe lock him inside the greenhouse. I just had to be patient and wait for his arm to move. I knew if I tried to lift it myself, I would most likely wake him. I waited. I didn’t know how much time had passed between us falling asleep and now, but it was good that it was still dark. Maybe it had only been a few hours and that would give me the added cover of night to get a head start. I wasn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t notice I was gone. He would know as soon as he opened his eyes, so I had to use my time wisely. So I formulated my plan while I waited for the moment I could move. I would lock him into the greenhouse, possibly by wedging a chair under the doorknob. Of course, Mr. B would notice this as soon as he made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast. Hopefully I’d be long gone by then.

  I could use the horse, cover more ground that way. I wasn’t confident in my ability to ride the beast, but I’d read the basics, thankfully provided by my owner. I hoped what I’d learned was enough. I’d have to find some type of tool to break or pick the lock on the barn, but that wasn’t difficult. I’d done it before to break into the Compound kitchen.

  But then where would I go?

  I’d need to bring water; food if possible. Who knew how long this wilderness went on? We were somewhere in France and I was thankful I spoke the language but I still didn’t know the key Members or Followers here. They could be anyone and I could be turned right back over to Master Lyon if I wasn’t careful.

  It was better not to seek out help and do it all on my own. To do that, I would need money—cash so it wouldn’t be traced. It would help me fund a stay or a few at some motels and transportation as I gathered information as to whether there was a Safe Network or house in this country. If this went as far up as I was led to believe, I had little doubt I’d have trouble finding one. Every place that had a large Order community had an ever-growing resistance. It was only a matter of not getting caught before I came upon one.