by C. L. Stone
“Is that what you want?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Not from you. That’s not who you are.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I just don’t know what you want from me.” He squeezed the hand I was holding tightly.
The answer was already on the tip of my tongue, and I knew it was dangerous, but I had sworn myself to honesty. “I want you to show me how you feel about me. If you think I’m wrong about something, tell me why. Tell me everything you’re thinking. I’m giving you my permission to do anything you want. Right now.”
It was the truth. If he was angry and wanted to walk away, I wanted him to. If this was too much, and if it proved he couldn’t handle Blake or the others doing the same, and this was over, I wanted to end it as quickly as possible, to allow them to heal or move on.
But I trembled, fearing his answer. My own heart was breaking, seeing him like this. I didn’t hate what I’d done with Blake, but it was the true extent of how nonexclusive I needed to be right now. I couldn’t hide my feelings from them and still figure out how to feel about them, either. If I was going to figure this out, I needed to be free to be myself and do anything with them without boundaries.
If that wasn’t going to happen, with one or all of them, then they needed to bow out. I would have to be okay with that.
The storm brewing inside him filled the air around me. His electricity lit up the hairs on the back of my neck. Every cell within me was alive, holding out for whatever he decided.
He pulled his fist from my hand.
My heart sank. He was leaving. I couldn’t blame him at all. I knew it was insane to even ask.
Just as I was about to step out of his way to let him access the door, he reached for my face, cupping my cheeks and pulling me to him.
I had only one little fraction of a second where I didn’t understand what he was doing and hesitated.
He kissed me.
Hard.
I kept my body still, his lips crushed against mine.
When my brain caught up, I put my arms around his neck. One hand drifted to his hair, strands tangling around my knuckles, pulling his head toward me.
He released my face to reach down and pick me up by my thighs. With one lift, he had my legs wrapped around his waist. I held on, trying to lock my ankles behind his back.
He moved toward the bed, pressing me down, kissing hard.
The tray of food tilted toward us, connecting with my arm, some of the silverware clattered on the plastic.
He let go of me and shoved the tray to the floor with a crash. His hands returned to my thighs.
I bit his lip and then sucked on it. The food and his eagerness gave me new energy. He stoked the fire burning inside me that had started the day we met.
He growled low, and his lips kissed mine again before making a trail down my chin to my neck. He bit me lightly there, but then took in skin and sucked, like I had done.
I gripped his shoulders and gazed down at him. I spotted the bite mark I’d made earlier in the conference room when I’d been trying not to lose it. It was there, still red. Had I bit him that hard?
He kept kissing my neck, and then along my shoulder. He spoke, and his deep, smoky voice shook me. “You said I could do anything,” he said.
My heart throbbed hard. I couldn’t stop thinking of how, no matter how many times I seemed to drift away from him, he always drew me back and never hesitated to let me know he wanted me there. I wanted him, in whatever way he’d have me. “I meant it.”
He pulled himself up, and a knee went between my thighs, up tight against my groin. He put palms on the bed, on either side of my shoulders, and kept himself above me as he gazed down at my face. “I don’t want just sex from you.”
My cheeks heated, mostly since he’d said just sex. “Tell me what you want.”
He leaned in until his nose was touching mine and he was too close to look at. “What I want is something you’re not willing to give…yet.”
“You don’t think I could give you that?” I asked, getting frustrated with him being so close. I moved my leg up between his thighs, putting pressure against his hardness. My heart was telling me what he wanted was something I already felt.
He moved one hand to hold my chin and turned my head to the side, leaning in. His lips brushed against my ear. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
I breathed in slowly, feeling my own growl brewing inside me. “Axel, I said show me.”
He nipped at my ear. “I am.” He backed his head up and nipped again at my neck, his teeth grazing my skin.
I let out the growl and practically shoved my neck toward his lips.
He only kissed it, and then traced those kisses to my jawline. When I pushed against his groin again, increasing the pressure, he moved his knee, forcing my leg back down.
I wanted him. He was holding me back.
I opened my eyes, wild and desperate, realizing what he was doing. “You’re teasing me?”
“I’m showing you how I’ve felt for weeks.” He captured my wrists, bringing them up above my head, and kept them there with one hand. He drifted the other down until it cupped my now bare, tender skin between my thighs, and put the same amount of pressure there as I had on him. “Wanting you…”
I tilted my head back and angled my hips toward his hands. I couldn’t help it. Now that I was here, under him, feeling him above me when moments ago I had been afraid he’d walk out, I couldn’t stop myself.
He knew about Blake, and yet he was still here, saying he’d wanted me for weeks.
So I leaned up, and I bit him on the neck like he’d bitten me, and then I kissed the spot, soothing.
He moaned and stilled, his hand at the juncture of my legs simply covering me, the barest pressure, nothing more.
I kissed him again on the neck. I had teased him for weeks now. I had kissed him, gotten close and then pulled away, because I’d thought it was wrong to play with his feelings. I was done playing. I wanted him to know that I was surrendering. He could have as much of me as he could handle.
The only price was that they all got the same treatment. I couldn’t hold back my feelings with them. I had too much inside of me to give to them, if they wanted it.
My heart and my breath quickened as I kissed his neck, his shoulder. I licked and kissed at the spot where I’d bitten, admiring where I’d marked him.
He released my hands, holding himself over me once more. His other hand moved up, sliding my shirt up over my breasts. He traced one and then cupped it.
He had seemed to be controlling himself teasing me, but now, in his touch, I felt that resolve weakening.
My thigh returned to his erection, stroking slower this time. I didn’t want to crush him; just enough to brush up against him, to let him know I was serious.
He shifted to unbutton the shirt I was wearing—his shirt.
I arched and shifted as he tugged the fabric, allowing him to remove the shirt and toss it away.
He moved up and away from me, making me grunt in frustration. But then, the lights went off. His clothing seemed to evaporate.
And then he returned.
I was still lengthwise on the bed, and his lips began to kiss everywhere. He found his way between my thighs, finding spots that made me moan and grip his hair.
I gasped when he used the flat of his tongue, and when he needed to breathe, he used his fingers. He sped up his fingers, rubbing faster, and hard.
I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to orgasm, but he was relentless. Soon, I felt the warmth between my thighs, and I throbbed against his tongue. I moaned, and the intensity increased as he used his lips and suckled over and over, matching my throbbing.
I didn’t let go of his head until I was too sensitive, and then I tugged his hair, pulling him up, wanting to give him what he wanted, and more of what I wanted, too.
As he moved his body over me, I got a peek of his wide
chest and fit body and the large hard-on between his legs. It excited me. I knew this body. I’d seen it before.
I’d wanted it before.
I had a brief moment where I thought of birth control, but he had told me once he was snipped. I wasn’t sure I was supposed to be able to tell looking at his body, but I didn’t see any sort of scar.
He entered me and the bed rocked.
He moved inside me. He was slow at first, reaching in deep, gentle, almost tender.
And then suddenly, he pulled out far and dove back in, slamming hard against my body, all gentleness gone.
My bones had never vibrated so hard.
It stirred a thrill within me. I wanted him like that: Rough. Needy.
He gripped my hair in his hands and held tight as his groin shoved into mine, over and over.
I bent my knees on either side of him, urging him in deeper.
Once he sank in, I squeezed with my body around him, tightening around his cock.
He groaned and then gripped me with his hands. “Stop it,” he growled at me.
I smirked and then squeezed tighter.
He got up on his knees to reposition himself, trying again from a different angle. “Don’t.”
I kept at it. I wasn’t squeezing enough to stop him, to push him out of me. I was just tightening things for him.
It felt good to me, too. It put pressure in all the right places.
He let out a low growl and grasped my hips, breathed heavily, and then plunged again and again into my tightening body.
I smiled to myself. I could sense him getting close. He muttered again, wanting me to stop, but I wouldn’t listen. I wouldn’t let him take full control.
He shuddered and throbbed inside me. He gripped me, holding on, letting out an almost pained moan. He had wanted more, and I wanted to feel him like this.
In a way, it felt like a victory to me. I had desired more, too, but I reveled in the fact that I could get him off when I wanted to.
He eventually moved off me to lie at my side, breathing heavily. It wasn’t until we were lying beside each other in the low light that I realized his penis barely lost its shape as it softened. I’d heard about how some male genitalia grew in size and girth when aroused, while some stayed the same shape and simply got sturdier, becoming erect with excitement. I hadn’t seen the latter before now, not in person, at least.
As he relaxed against me, my hand drifted down to it.
“How do you walk with this thing?” I asked. I had myself propped up on one elbow as I toyed with him.
He had a hand in my hair, combing back the small knots he’d made when he’d gripped my hair during our lovemaking.
“How do you walk with boobs?” he asked and released my hair to hold one of my breasts in his hands. “Don’t these weigh you down?”
“They don’t get in the way of my legs,” I said. I lifted his length, weighing it in my palm. “How do you walk with this thing dangling in front of you all day?” I was saying it mostly to tease him, but I did wonder about such things sometimes.
He shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“Boring answer,” I said. I dropped it and then walked my fingers up his waist, to touch his Adonis belt, and then up to his abs. His dark Native complexion made my arm look so pale. “What’s your background? I mean…bloodline…probably not the word I want.”
“Native,” he said. “Among other things.”
“Any particular tribe?” I asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” he said. “It’s from my mother’s side, but my father never wanted her to talk about it.”
I huffed. “She was forbidden to talk about it? She should have punched him and done it anyway.”
He released my boob and then brought his hand to my face, holding it to look at my eyes. He was quiet for a long moment. “Tell me I’m not going to lose this.”
“Me?” I asked, yawning. My energy was already draining.
“This side of you,” he said. “The real you.”
I sighed and moved in closer, cozying up to his body. I rested my arm on his muscled chest. He drew up the covers around us.
I was quiet, and so was he. His breath was steady. I wondered if he was already asleep. I closed my eyes, comforted by simply feeling him nearby.
“I don’t care about the others,” he said in the dark. “I thought I would, but…if what you need from me is to be there for you while you try to figure this out, I’ll take it. When I’m with you, though, I need you to be honest with me. I need everything without holding back.”
“It’s what I wanted.”
“I can handle the rest if I know you do care about me. I’m more worried you’ll leave.”
“I do care about you, Axel,” I whispered and then forced out the next part. “I’m just…scared to hurt you. And the others.”
He pressed his lips against the top of my head and squeezed me in tight. “I’m scared of the same thing.”
Caught
Sometime while I slept, I felt Axel get out of bed, but then I fell asleep again immediately.
I woke up the next morning and turned over, staring at the broad shoulders of someone sleeping beside me in a red T-shirt.
I closed my eyes and snuggled up to him, holding close around his waist. I was still nude, and memories of the night before flooded my half-awake brain.
A hand covered mine, weaving his fingers between mine.
But it felt different. I’d assumed it was still Axel, but the dimensions were off. Axel didn’t feel like this. This person seemed taller, his shoulders broader.
When I opened my eyes and looked up, I spotted sun-kissed hair and tanned skin.
I sat up quickly, and the blanket fell away from my chest. The windows were still covered, but sunlight managed to filter through around the edges of the curtains.
Corey flipped over, an eyebrow going up. His hair was flattened against his head and there was a red mark on his cheek from the pillow. “You okay?” he asked and then his gaze lowered to my breasts. His face lit up as red as the Super Mario shirt he wore, and he quickly turned back over, dropping his head on the bed. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t…see…”
I put a hand over my heart, feeling as though I’d had a small heart attack. I blew out a breath, relieved, seeing Corey and that familiar modest blush. I had been worried it was his brother, especially because I’d have to tell Brandon about Blake, and I thought it would be worse if I’d snuggled with Brandon just before.
I laughed out of relief, the sound surprising me. It felt as if it had been forever since I’d laughed.
Suddenly, the door to the room opened.
Another small heart attack, and barely time to lift the blanket cover my body.
Corey flipped over, sitting up quickly, looking toward the door, an arm reaching out protectively in front of me.
In stepped Fancy, bleary-eyed and wearing the same robe from last night. Her dyed hair was messy, strands frizzing up, her makeup smeared on her face. The robe was barely hanging on around her shoulders.
Behind her was Liam, amazingly bright-eyed, although he still hadn’t shaved. He wore new jeans, and a new deep blue sweater with the ship’s embroidered L on the chest. He was carrying a tray of muffins and a pot of coffee.
They had the worst timing.
Fancy groaned, took one look at us and staggered toward the bed. “My God,” she said, crawling across the blanket and landing with a soft thud between mine and Corey’s legs, curling up as much as possible onto the mattress. “Someone shoot me. I’ve been tossing around all night. How can anyone sleep with the peasants when you’ve got a royal bed waiting for you?”
Was she saying she didn’t like the beds in the other rooms, or did she literally mean she’d slept with…?
Liam set the tray down hard on the small coffee table by the sofa, making the silverware and the glasses rattle. It startled me enough to jump.
&n
bsp; Corey swung his attention to him. “It’s not what you think,” he said.
“I don’t want the details,” Liam said, his face splotching with red. He pointed right at me. “I need a word with you, right now.”
Liam might have been in his thirties, older than the rest of us, but he wasn’t in charge of me, and he wasn’t my father. I didn’t care what he thought I might have been doing with Corey—it wasn’t his business.
Before I could react, Corey flung back the covers and was out of the bed. He was wearing black boxers and stood between Liam and me. “She’s not in the Academy. It doesn’t matter if she—”
“You,” Liam said in a deeper, much more serious tone, “need to calm down. I’m not here to judge anyone, but I need the truth about some things, as it may be vital to what we’re doing.”
Corey’s shoulders relaxed, but just a little. “She’s not the enemy.”
“I know that,” he said. “What you do, it isn’t my business, but we’re dealing with a life-or-death situation, and I can’t work with a team where I don’t know what the hell is going on.” He returned his attention back to me. “You and I need to have a serious discussion. Right now. Alone.”
Corey looked back at me with sympathetic eyes.
My heart was pounding. I wanted not to be embarrassed. I hadn’t slept with Corey, technically, but I knew it looked like it. “This doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on,” I said.
“I’m afraid it does,” Liam said. He rolled the sleeves of the sweater up above his elbows. “I’m not angry, but I’m putting my own life and my team member’s at risk here. If you were me, you’d do the same thing.”
I pressed my lips together, unhappy thinking he was probably right. I didn’t know how much he knew, but I needed to know what he was assuming and correct him. “I need clothes.”
Corey instantly scanned the room, starting to tug at his own shirt, but then stopped. “Is there another robe like you’re wearing, Fancy?”
