House of Silence (Poisoned Houses Book 3)

by Lyn Forester

That comment earns him a glare from me. “Well, she’s having some issues with Nikola.”

  Felix glances at Connor. “She thinks Nikola smells pretty.”

  Connor nods. “I noticed.”

  “That’s messing with her head since Nikola’s clearly not a girl.” They nod in unison. “And on top of that, her family is sending a marriage candidate here so they can get to know each other better before committing.”

  Felix’s lip curls at the idea, apparently not a fan of forcing this kind of issue, either. “Sounds super romantic.”

  I press my hands together and take a deep breath before spilling out the rest. “So Myrrine decided the only way to fix what’s going on with her is to mate with me.”

  Connor rears back in a mirror image of Felix’s earlier horror. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t decide if that’s hot or terrifying.” Felix rubs the back of his neck, eyes going distant. “On the one hand, she’s attractive, and you’re sexy as hell, and the thought of you guys naked and rubbing up on each other is appealing. But on the other hand, she’s got that dominant personality that makes me worry she’d—”

  Reaching up, I pinch his injured lip.

  He yelps and leaps away from me, clutching his face. “Why are you so violent with me?”

  My hands move to my hips. “Why are you picturing Myrrine naked?”

  “Myrrine naked with you,” he points out while maintaining his distance. “You’re the key in this little fantasy.”

  I turn to Connor. “Remember when you asked how Felix earned an invitation to a sleepover?”

  His eyes twinkle. “I do.”

  “Well, this is how he lost that invitation.” I link my arm through Connor’s once more. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that, Sprinkles.” Felix runs up to my other side, pressing his arm against mine. “You know you’re the only girl for me.”

  Sniffing, I turn my nose up, refusing to look at him.

  “Is this you pretending to be angry? Or actually angry? I can’t tell.”

  I keep my focus shifted away so he can’t see my smile. “You’re smart. Figure it out for yourself.”

  “You like the jam cups. I’m going to get you all the jams.” Felix runs ahead of us to the stairs. “And toast! As much toast as you can eat! And tea!”

  As he disappears from view, Connor nudges me. “How long are you going to keep him on his toes?”

  “Until he wears himself out and needs a nap.” I hug Connor’s arm tighter. “I can give him little fights, even if I can’t full out punch him. If it’s what he needs to work off all that excess energy.”

  Pulling free of my hold, he loops his arm around my waist to draw me close. “I think you’re having fun with it, too.”

  The nearness makes it more difficult to walk as our feet tangle together, but I enjoy his warmth. “A little.”

  “It’s good to see you smiling again.” His cheek rubs against the top of my head. “I missed it.”

  I try to peer up at him, but we’re too close to get a good look. “I’ve been smiling.”

  “Not like usual. You’ve been quieter since coming back.” The hand at my waist squeezes gently. “More reflective. Internalizing.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind.” I break away from him as we reach the stairs, Felix no longer in sight. “But I know what I want now. It makes things easier. I feel... freer.”

  “I’m glad.” Always chivalrous, he moves to walk in front of me down the stairs lest I trip. “It’s good not to suppress everything. You have us to vent to now. No judgment.”

  “Sure you want to make that promise?” I grab his shoulders instead of the handrail. “You might regret it once you realize how melodramatic my inner monolog is.”

  “Monolog away.” He reaches up with his free hand to cover one of mine. “I look forward to hearing all of it.”

  At breakfast, we have the room mostly to ourselves, with only the servers to keep us company. Nikola stays absent, either nursing his wounds or, more likely, gathering more information to go into his massive arsenal of knowledge.

  Myrrine doesn’t track us down, either, for which I’m grateful but also somewhat fearful for my eventual return to our room. Will our previous conversation pick back up, or will we ignore it for now and pretend nothing happened?

  After breakfast, with stomachs full of too much healthy food, we head to the library and find a quiet room with padded chairs and a small sofa meant to provide a relaxing place to study. Dim glow lamps on the table provide a more comfortable light than the bright overheads in the main part of the library. A sliding door offers privacy and a way to block out noise.

  We’re the only students stupid enough to be awake this early, and, like the cafeteria, we have the place to ourselves.

  Connor grabs a couple of pre-loaded tablets from a shelf in the history section to give us a pretense for being here, then flips the lock to let others know the room is in use. Connor and I claim the loveseat while Felix takes one of the over-stuffed chairs, most of his body disappearing from view in its fluffy confines. He kicks his legs over one arm, with only the top of his messy hair visible from where we sit.

  Within minutes, his quiet breathing fills the space.

  I make a half-hearted attempt to read up on the history of previous Mr. Blues, but the dry facts quickly tire me out. Running on minimal sleep, I can’t keep my eyelids open and eventually succumb, slumping against Connor’s side for support.

  Response

  When I wake up, I find myself curled onto my side, my head pillowed on Connor’s thigh. A gentle hand strokes my arm in a pattern of repetitive, absentminded comfort. I roll onto my back, legs tucked tight to the arm of the small sofa, to stare up at Connor.

  He sets the tablet he holds off to the side and smiles down at me. “Did you sleep well?”

  His quiet voice alerts me that Felix still sleeps. Tiredness clouds my mind, the kind that lures me to close my eyes once more, to nap the day away.

  I blink to force myself to stay awake. “Yeah, sorry.”

  He brushes the flyaway hairs from my forehead. “It’s fine. I don’t think any of us slept well last night.”

  I hum a quiet agreement, the fingers on my face far too soothing. My eyes begin to flutter shut once more, and I force them to stay open. “What time is it?”

  “Almost 1300.” He traces my cheekbone. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I can wake you in another hour.”

  “No, I should stay awake.” A yawn breaks through before I finish the sentence, and I cover my mouth to stifle it.

  His touch drops to my neck, stroking behind my ear. “You’re not convincing at all.”

  I stretch, my head tilting to give him better access. “Are you trying to put me back to sleep?”

  He tweaks my earlobe. “I like that you’re comfortable enough to use me as a pillow.”

  A snort escapes me. “Funny, when I fell asleep on Declan, it upset him.”

  In an ill-advised adventure to make ourselves cake, Declan and I snuck into the school’s pantry to steal the ingredients only to be stuck when the kitchen staff returned before we located the sugar. We’d hidden under one of the shelves, in a cramped, tight space barely large enough for the two of us. I’d fallen asleep on top of him. When we finally escaped, he’d told me I should be less comfortable around him and gave me my first kiss to show me why.

  That was the beginning of our odd, convoluted relationship, the four of us against the world. Only, it hadn’t really been the four of us. It had been me and Declan planning to run, and Connor and Felix unaware of the situation. It shames me, now, to realize how near I came to breaking Connor’s and Felix’s hearts. To face Declan once more, having chosen to stay, brings with it a sense of apprehension.

  I want him safe and back with us, but what will he say when he learns of my change of heart? What will Felix say to him now, knowing Declan planned to leave him behind? And how will Declan react to Nikola, someone c
ompletely unknown, added to our group in his absence?

  Connor’s fingers rub over the furrow between my brows. “What heavy thoughts are circling in your mind? Didn’t you say all your monologs would be spoken out loud from now on?”

  I reach up to grasp his hand and pull it down to rest next to my shoulder. “I’m worried.”

  “About what?”

  “Declan. Felix. Nikola.” I lift his hand to rub against my cheek. “Everything.”

  Gently, he shifts us until he reclines with his back against the arm of the couch, legs on either side of my body, and I lay against him, my back to his chest. It’s cramped and takes away my view of him, but I love the feel of his arms around me.

  His lips find my ear, voice low so we don’t disturb Felix. “I’m not on your list?”

  I shake my head, a thrill zipping through me as the motion draws his lips back and forth over the sensitive shell of my ear. “No. I don’t worry about you. Does that worry you?”

  His hand strokes my stomach. “Should it?”

  “It’s not that I don’t think about you as often as I do the others. Or that I take your presence for granted.” I rest my head on his shoulder, gaze focused on the hexagon pattern in the ceiling. “I worry about Nikola’s place in my life, if I can ever accept him as my secretary, if that path eventually means accepting him in all aspects of my life and how I feel about that. I worry about how that will make Declan and Felix feel. I worry Declan hurt Felix with his secrets. Since Nikola had a hand in revealing those secrets, what will it mean for how we all work together? I worry we’re all heading into a turn too fast, and we’re going to either make it or pancake on the asphalt.”

  I take a shaky breath. “But you, you’re always calm. You take things as they come, find places for them in whatever view you have of the future. You don’t get anxious at the changes life demands. You’re the calm, the stabilizer—Felix’s brother, Declan’s best friend, a Nikola sympathizer, and a fellow demi-Councilor who understands the full weight of the position. With you, it feels like everything will work out. That we’ll make it around this turn and the next, that we’ll keep racing forward.”

  His hand cups my jaw, tilting my head back until his lips reach mine. The angle makes it awkward, impossible to fully connect, but it makes my blood sing. He pulls back after only the briefest of kisses. “That is the most beautiful love confession you could have ever given me.”

  Shocked, my lips part. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing, but it feels right. Connor said he would wait for my feelings to match his, but his restraint was unwarranted. These feeling already existed, locked in the depths of me, too afraid to be spoken out loud, but there nonetheless.

  Shifting, I put us at a better angle for my lips to find his once more, and my pulse races. This is better than any adrenaline high from racing, better than the heart-pounding excitement of a win.

  Connor’s lips open beneath mine, more confident than our first kiss, less hesitation than our second. He takes control quickly, his tongue delving past my lips to stroke against mine, his hand on the back of my head, gentle but firm as he holds me in place, keeps me from flying apart.

  His other hand finds my waist, and I jump at the shock of skin against skin where my sweater rode up, but when he moves to pull back, I reach down and press his palm more firmly against me. I want to feel his bare hands against my body, to fill in this blank place in my fantasies. His fingers spread wide over my side, exploring the span of my waist, the small of my back, then higher to test the breadth of my ribcage.

  Everywhere he touches, my body burns with a fire only his hands can quench. Heat pools between my thighs, a tingling restlessness that makes my knees rub together.

  Connor’s tongue pushes deeper into my mouth, claiming more, and I shiver at the sensation of fullness. Reaching up, I grip the back of his head, my fingers driving through his thick hair to scrape against his scalp. A low rumble comes from his throat, almost a purr, and I repeat the motion, testing what makes him feel good.

  His thumb bumps up against the underside of my bra, and my breath catches. Slowly, his hand drifts higher, giving me time to pull back, to move his hand to a safer, less intimate part of my body.

  Instead, I shift to give him better access. He pulls back from our kiss, and my eyes drift open to meet his as he cups my breast in one hand. I’m not big, not in the way Myrrine is, but the reverence with which he touches me takes away any sense of concern at my perceived lack.

  His heated eyes move from mine, dropping to my chest, and I shift in his lap once more, kneeling between his legs to give him a better view. Blood heats my cheeks at my boldness, but it only heightens my excitement. I want Connor’s eyes on me, I want to watch his expression as he explores my body. Grasping the hem of my sweater, I sweep it over my head to get it out of the way.

  Connor fumbles with the clasp on the front of my bra, the unfamiliar hook getting in the way for only a moment before it opens. The thin cups catch on my hard nipples before he slowly pushes it off my shoulders. Then, he simply gazes at my bared breasts, his lips parted and eyes glazed with desire. Impatient, I reach for his hands, drawing them back to my body, to the aching swells of flesh that crave his touch.

  A shuddering groan escapes as my nipples bead against his palms, and I urge him to grip me tighter, to learn my shape and weight. Broken from the spell, his hands shift to the sides, cupping my breasts as his thumbs and forefingers gently roll my nipples.

  My head falls back, eyes closing as I push into his touch, marveling in the thrum that rolls through my body. The warmth between my legs spreads, sending a fine tremor through my thighs, and I sway into Connor.

  His hands drop to my hips to support me, but before I can protest the loss of his touch, his heated lips enfold one nipple. A shock of desire curls my toes, and I grip his shoulders, scraping my nails over the back of his neck. His mouth opens wider, his tongue a rough swipe over the sensitive peak before he sucks more of my breast into his mouth. The gentle tug pulls at my core, and I reach up to pluck at my other nipple, the pleasure blooming to new heights.

  “Connor…” his name falls from my lips with no words to follow. I don’t know what I want, what I need. I sit on the cusp of something wonderful, ready to fall if only he gives me a push.

  In answer, one hand leaves my hip, dipping lower, and his thumb brushes over the height of my sex. The gentle pressure sends me careening over the edge, and I clutch his shoulders as the world splinters apart. Energy sings through me, my entire body pulsing with life.

  I fall back into myself in pieces, the real world popping back into focus one sensation at a time. Connor’s strong hands hold me tight, his gasps warm against my chest, his head a pleasant weight on my shoulder. Cool air chills my breasts, the left one colder for the loss of Connor’s mouth.

  I drag in a shuddering breath. “I’ve never… Thank you.”

  He laughs softly. “I feel like that should be my line.”

  Realizing I took all the pleasure without giving him any, I fall back to my heels, reaching for his pants. “Here, let me—”

  He catches my wrist. “That’s okay, you don’t need to.”

  Hurt spikes through me. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

  “Oh, I want.” He leans forward to kiss me. “Believe me, I want. But satisfying you satisfied me.”

  “It’s okay, Connor, you don’t have to be chivalrous. I want to.”

  With a quiet laugh, he releases me and settles back against the arm of the couch.

  Frowning, I reach for his sweats once more only to realize why he resisted. “Oh.”

  “I told you it satisfied me.” His hands rise to cover his face. “I promise I’ll last longer next time.”

  Pleasing me really did make him happy. I study the spreading wet spot on the front of his pants. “How are you going to get back to the dorms like this?”

  “I’ll clean up in the bathroom.” He sits up once more and helps pull my bra back
into place. “Next time, we should do this somewhere with more privacy.”

  “There aren’t a lot of places that offer that here.” I connect the clasp in front, then tug my sweater back on, glad for its warmth.

  He pulls me down for another kiss. “This worked out well.”

  I eye the top of Felix’s head. “Not exactly private.”

  “At least it has a lock. We can sneak away next time, just the two of us.” With one last kiss, he slides off the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as he leaves, I turn to the chair where Felix sleeps. While his breathing remains slow and steady, a fine energy runs through him that only exists when he’s awake. “Did you have fun listening in?”

  “Shh, I’m sleeping,” he whispers.

  I grab one of the small pillows off the floor and throw it at him. “Do you need the bathroom, too?”

  “Still trying to decide.” His legs slip off the arm of the chair to curl in next to his body. “I’m seriously conflicted here. On the one hand, that was hot, and I wish I could have watched. On the other hand… Connor. Eww. Now, if it were you and Dec…”

  He lifts a hand, making a motion that leaves nothing to the imagination.

  I grab another pillow, pummeling the top of his head with it.

  He breaks out in a ruckus laugh. “I give, I give. Not the face! Ow!”

  When Connor returns a few minutes later, he finds me red-faced and out of breath while Felix sits on top of a pile of pillows, looking smug. Without comment, Connor shakes his head, then turns and walks back out, leaving the door open and not waiting to see if we follow.

  Of course, Felix and I scramble out of our seats and chase after him.

  “Wait out here,” I caution as I approach my room. “Or better yet, go down to Nikola’s room, just in case she’s still in a mood.”

  Connor stays in place while Felix worriedly inches down the hall, hissing back, “You should never have left your folding-port in there to begin with.”

  “I had things on my mind other than grabbing my bag!”