Anarchy Missing: Alpha Case (Anarchy #2)

by JA Huss

  She crinkles her nose when I say the word school. I know it wasn’t school. But what else would I call it?

  “But I liked the smell of incense. And the singing, I guess. The way everyone else knew the rituals. They knew just when to kneel and when to stand. It was automatic, you know? A part of them. They’d repeat phrases and say their practiced words at the end of a prayer. I liked it. It made me feel…” I shake my head, wanting to stop talking and get back to kissing.

  “Made you feel… a part of something? Maybe?”

  I blow out a long breath of air. “I’ve never been a part of anything, Lulu. Except Linc and Thomas. And maybe, if I stretch my imagination a little, I can include Atticus Montgomery in that group. I love Molly. And Sheila too. But that night with you, in that place…” I picture it in my head again, the way I described it to Molly that night she reunited with Lincoln at the SkyEye party. With all the girls in white and all the men in black. “The music was calm but fun. And the dancing was perfect. All those rehearsals paid off, you know?”

  Lulu nods at me. “It was a very special night.”

  “Yeah, night. The cathedral at night, you know? I’d never been there at night. I didn’t know. Just didn’t realize how fucking beautiful it could be. And you were happy. I was happy.” I laugh. “I think that was the night I figured out what happy was.”

  Lulu pouts her lips at me, looking far younger in this moment. Like the girl she was and not the woman she is. “That’s kinda sad.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I know what sad is.”

  She leans up again, slowly, watching me as she gets closer and closer until our lips touch. Eyes open. And then she parts her mouth and her tongue is inside me. We are holding each other, palms against cheeks, when everything turns urgent.

  I grab her t-shirt, take a step back, and pull it over her head. My hands are on her full breasts, squeezing gently, then with enough pressure to make her gasp.

  Our eyes never break apart.

  Her fingers fumble with the hem of my borrowed shirt and I can’t wait for her to get it off me, so I help. I drop it on the floor next to hers and take her hands in mine, lacing our fingers together, and then wrap my arms around her back, pulling her tightly to my chest.

  “If I ever try to talk you into leaving me again,” I say, voice husky with desire, “slap me out of it.”

  She giggles and nods. “Done.”

  I let one hand go and lead her over to the couch, sinking back into the soft cushions, pulling her on my lap. Hiking her legs up so her pussy is pressed right up against my thickening cock. I play with her breasts. Kneading her nipples until she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back, face turned up to the ceiling.

  I take my grip down to her hips, rocking her against me through our clothes.

  “Fuck me,” she whispers, still lost in the last moment.

  And I want to. I really do. But I’m feeling the opposite of rushed right now. I just want to look at her a little longer. Burn the sight of her into my mind so no matter what happens after today, she’ll still be there.

  “Case,” she says, eyes small slits. Breathing heavy. “Fuck me.”

  I trace my fingers across her flat stomach, making her shudder, and drag her pants down so slow, she moans. Her hand grabs mine. Surprises me. But it’s not a signal to stop. She presses it, palm down, into the front of her pants.

  Her eyes open wide when the tip of my thumb brushes up against her clit. Sucks air in through her teeth when I press it. And suddenly I can’t. I can’t wait any longer. I stand up, holding her body tightly to mine, and then swing her down on the couch, making her squeal at the quick change of position.

  I grab the hem of her pants and pull them. Her fingers are at the waist, frantically wiggling to free herself of clothing. They make it over the curve of her hips and slide the rest of the way down her legs. I throw them over my shoulder and flash her a hungry look as I spread her legs open, sliding my hands up the inside of her thighs.

  Her fingertips are immediately in my hair, gripping as they push my head down, practically begging me to give her what she wants.

  I spread the lips of her pussy aside, my tongue eager to please her. She moans and bucks her back, urging me on with even more pressure on my head. She draws her legs up, knees parting to give me more access.

  I sweep my tongue up and down, enjoying the taste of her desire.

  “Yessss,” she whispers. “Just like that.”

  I press my whole mouth against her opening, then nip her softly until she’s sucking in air and lifting her hips off the couch. I insert one finger inside her wet pussy, pumping in and out as she makes the most erotic little mewling sounds. I almost can’t stand it.

  My thumb slides down to massage her asshole, our mixed juices dripping down to coat it with slickness.

  I flick my tongue back and forth across her clit, making her moan louder. Words are coming out of her mouth. “Yes. There. Oh, fuck. Don’t stop. No, no, no…” when I pull back.

  I look up between her legs and find an almost painful look of desire on her face. “Not yet, Lulu. You’re not getting off that easy.”

  “Case,” she says, almost pleading.

  I sit up, my legs bent between hers, and my fingers take the place of my tongue. Pressing all the right buttons to make her forget what she just lost and concentrate only on what’s coming next.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask. “And don’t bother with words, Miss Lightly. Actions speak louder.”

  She bites her lip, trying to hide a crooked smile. But she says nothing as she reaches for the button of my jeans and quickly flips it open. Her eyes dart to mine, looking for permission to continue.

  I give her nothing.

  She answers my silence by reaching into my pants and pulling out my cock. I watch her as she looks at it, strokes it, her whole hand wrapping around the thick hard shaft, her fingertips unable to meet because of my wide girth.

  She pushes forcefully on my chest, wanting me to lie back. I oblige her unspoken request and bring one arm up to cover my eyes with my forearm. The other grabs a fistful of her hair as she lowers her mouth to my cock. One sweep of her tongue and I’m the one sucking in air now.

  She opens wide, takes me fully into her mouth, tongue pressed flat as I start moving my hips and fucking her mouth.

  She gags, tries to pull back. But I force her to stay there. Unwilling, unyielding. I stop and hold still. Allow her to gather herself and draw in a long breath through her nose. Saliva is dripping down out of her mouth, sliding down my cock, pooling on my tight, hard balls.

  She’s still breathing hard when I resume. But she doesn’t gag again. Just keeps her mouth open, taking everything I want to give her. I want to come in her throat. Release and feel relief.

  But I don’t. I hold it in.

  The one hand still wrapped around my shaft begins to move up and down, pressing on my balls and then sliding back up. Her lips seal tight and she sucks me like nothing in this world tastes so good.

  My body is so warm, the heat inside building as the day moves into night. The light that was just streaming through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows is suddenly dim and filtered.

  I pull her hair, breaking the bond on her lips, and crook a finger, commanding her to crawl up my body so we can fuck properly now. She places both hands on my chest and positions her knees on either side of my hips. Her eyes close, like she’s already picturing it in her head. Her long, blonde hair artfully falls over her breasts, trying its best to hide her tight, perky nipples. My fingertips slowly brush it aside so I can see better and her hips begin to move against me, eager for me to be inside her.

  But I’m not there yet. I just want to look at her. Take her in like I’ve never had a chance to before. Claim her in this moment. Mine. That’s the word running through my head. Mine.

  Her body is perfectly shaped. A man’s dream. Her face is so beautiful. Her small features contrast with her wide blue eyes. She bites her lip n
ervously, and I smile. I have words for this. So many words I’d like to say. But I like the quiet. My silent gaze that wants to eat her up and drink her in says so much more.

  The light is fading away by the second and it almost…

  “Case,” she whispers, adding to the disquiet that comes with the night.

  “Shhh,” I say.

  It almost feels like she’s a dream. How did my life change so dramatically in just a few days?

  “Case,” she pleads. “You’re driving me crazy.” She’s rubbing herself against me. Coating my cock with her wet desire. Both hands press flat on my chest and they are cool—so fucking cool against my skin, glistening with sweat.

  I draw in a deep breath and memorize this moment. Her back is to the window and the curves of her body slowly make a silhouette against the backdrop of filtered daylight.

  She leans down and kisses me. Her hands on my shoulders, gripping tightly. Digging her nails into my flesh like little knives.

  I close my eyes and kiss her back, grab her hair and hold her down. I never want to stop. I never want to let her out of my sight.

  She finally gets tired of waiting for my permission and lifts her hips up, our tongues still tangled together in a dance that reminds me of our first real date together at the ball.

  One hand leaves my shoulder and dips down between her legs. She makes a tight fist around my cock and presses it against her wet opening. Pressure as my tip meets her opening and then more, as she begins to sit.

  I close my eyes for that. It feels so fucking good. My hands go to her hips, gripping the flesh so tightly, she groans and slaps her hands down on my chest again. The heat inside me is building with each passing moment—but I don’t care. I do not care about anything but how it feels to be inside Lulu.

  She eases down more, her tight pussy gripping my cock as her muscles contract.

  “Fuck, yeah,” I whisper, unable to stop myself from speaking.

  She closes her eyes and moves her body, hips slowly rocking back and forth. Her hands come up to cup her breasts as she leans her head back. Her mouth is open, her breath coming out in long exhales and sharp, quick inhales.

  It’s as slow a moment as I could ever have hoped for. Time is still for us as we move together, her soft, rounded curves the only thing I see.

  She looks down at me, eyes open, mouth open, breath suddenly heavier. She grabs my hand off her hip and holds it to her breast, right over her heart. I can feel it. Pumping and beating. I squeeze her breast—hard. And she whimpers, but doesn’t say anything, or give me any signal that it means anything other than keep going.

  My other hand slides around the curve of her ass, smacking her cheek hard enough to make an echo in the large room. That’s her cue to move faster. And she does. She gives me everything I want. She presses herself into me, sinking my cock inside her until she lets out a small gasp, letting me know I’m inside her as deep as I can possibly be.

  She falls forward, her fingernails digging into the rounded muscles of my shoulders. And that’s my cue that it’s time to fuck her hard.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, hold her so tightly against my chest, there is no possibility of her getting away. I lift my hips up slightly and pound her from beneath. My balls slap against my dick with each hard thrust, our stomachs sliding along each other.

  My mouth is up next to her neck, my lips kissing her until I find her earlobe and I nip it hard, but playfully.

  Her hands are on my back, nails digging into the blades of my shoulders. It cuts me and it feels so good when she releases the building heat inside my body, I tell her, “Yes. Drag your nails into my skin. Dig them deeper.”

  More pain, mixed with relieved pleasure. And more fucking. More pounding. More echoes of skin slapping against skin.

  I close my eyes as I press her down, forcing her to my chest, and fuck her, sliding a finger inside her ass, to make her gasp and moan.

  “Fuck,” she whines. “Yes. I’m gonna come, Case. I’m gonna come.”

  “Do it,” I say, my voice so husky, it’s almost unrecognizable. “Do it. Come on my dick.”

  She bucks her back, trying to loosen my hold. I try to hold her down as we move together, hard and fast and urgent in a way I’ve never felt before.

  “Now,” I say.

  She breaks free of my hold, forcing me to grab her hips. But her fingernails are still digging. Still giving me that sweet relief that only the cuts have been able to do so far.

  “Cut me,” I whisper. “Do it. Dig your nails into my skin and cut me, Lulu.”

  She is losing control quickly. Her climax building, building, building. And then she digs her nails in one last time, puncturing new flesh on the curve of my shoulder, and… comes. Just the way I commanded her. Her fingers grip me, dragging her nails down my arms in long streaks.

  I come too. I shoot my hot come deep inside her. Unable to care about the consequences of that. Unable to give one fuck about anything but the way we fit and move together. The power she now has over me. The power to ease the heat.

  I open my eyes as our orgasms begin to recede and find the light streaming out of the cuts in my arms, hitting the small, teardrop crystals hanging off the chandelier and sprinkling the ceiling with red sparkles.

  We are both looking up in amazed wonder at the sickness inside me. Silence as the pleasure fades to satisfaction. And when our eyes meet I have a moment of panic that she will get up, put her clothes back on, and run away as fast as she can.

  But she doesn’t. She smiles at me. Leans down and kisses me on the lips. And whispers, “You’re just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. And that up there”—we look up at the ceiling at the same time—“just proves it.”

  Her...

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - LULU

  I can carve things in his body and it will stream out as light.

  It’s weird. It’s… frightening, if I’m being honest. But it’s all so fucking beautiful at the same time.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Case says. We’re in the shower now. The media room has a nice big bathroom and a huge walk-in shower with a granite bench on the far side of the stall.

  I’m sitting on his lap, washing the cuts in his arms with a soft cloth. We didn’t talk after the light show ending to our lovemaking. I think Case was embarrassed so I got up off him, took his hand, pulled him to his feet, and brought him in here to clean up.

  He got the hint and turned the water on. And then sat on the bench, beckoning me to sit astride him with a slap to his thigh.

  I sigh, not sure what to say. But he’s waiting, his eyes trained on mine like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. “Well, we don’t know what it is, right?”

  He nods, but stays silent.

  “So that’s concerning. But I’m not… I’m not leaving because you happen to have red light bottled up inside you, Case. I’m just not gonna do that.”

  “Why?” he asks. He’s vulnerable in this moment. Very. I know he’s afraid. Much more than I am, for sure. I mean, this is happening to him. He has light inside his body and he has a need to cut himself to let it out and ease his pain. How scary to not know the cause, or the outcome, for that matter. This could be killing him. And as soon as that thought manifests in my head, my heart hurts. It aches at the possibility that I could lose him.

  “Why?” I repeat. “Because love doesn’t turn on and off like light, Case. And I love you. I have loved you since that first time you held my hand at rehearsal all those years ago. The first time you looked down at me with the most serious expression on your face and asked if you were doing it right.”

  “Hmmm,” he says, a small smile appearing on his lips.

  “And look,” I say, dragging my fingernail across his chest in a heart pattern. It’s just enough to leave a scratch, but the light pokes through like the sun trying to find its way through billowing thunderhead clouds, stray beams that shoot out and up. Some of them dance on my arms and breasts. Lik
e he’s blessing me.

  Case lets out a long breath as he studies the pattern I just made on my body with his light. Shakes his head. “There’s something wrong with me, Lulu.”

  I press my lips into a flat line and stare into his eyes. Nod. “Yeah. But everyone has problems, Case. Love…” I shrug. “Love gets you through it. I’m not leaving.”

  “I think there’s more to it than this,” he says, motioning down to his scratched and lit-up arms. “Much more.”

  “Like what? I mean, I know there has to be more. The reason behind the light is enough to figure that out. And no one seems to understand it. Not even that Sheila. But the good news is…” I suck in a gulp of air and then let it out in a tired exhale. What a weird few days. “The good news is there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with you.”

  “Yeah,” he says, holding onto my waist with one hand as he reaches past me to grab a bar of soap. He presses it against my chest and begins to wash me. “But the thing is, Lulu, it could be a lot worse than it looks. You have no idea what they did to me at that school. Hell, I don’t even know what they did to me. Lincoln didn’t know what they did to him. And yeah, he changed himself. Kinda embraced it, you know. But he’s so fucking far away from the kid I knew.”

  “Is he better or worse, or…” I let the sentence trail off because I’m not really sure what I’m asking. “Is he OK? I guess that’s my question. With who he is?”

  “I guess,” Case says, rubbing the soap up and down my stomach.

  “Will you be OK with who you are? I mean, suppose there’s nothing else wrong with you—”

  “There is,” he interjects.

  “But just pretend. OK? Pretend this is the extent of it. And you have to spend the rest of your life cutting yourself to get through the night. What then? Is that something you can live with?”

  He looks down at the anarchy scar on his left biceps, then looks back up to me. “What if they all leave scars on me like that?”

  I think about this for a few moments. Enough moments to make him squirm underneath me with uncertainty. “Well, then I should probably be more careful when I draw patterns on your body.” Small smile for that remark. “Seriously, Case. It could be a lot worse.”