Chapter 27 #2
I glanced down to find Tristian watching me. He grinned against me. It was fucking sinful, the sight of it.
Hayes gently shook his head, his soft lips brushing against that bundle of nerves as he continued his worship undeterred.
“No,” I bit out, swallowing a gasp.
Tristian released my thigh, his long fingers toying with my drenched entrance. My eyes widened as he held my gaze. He wouldn’t.
“Well, if you—” Patrick began, but Tristian plunged into me. I gripped the sink’s edge, trying to hold myself together.
“Burdon is looking for him,” Patrick finished. Tristian’s hand stilled for a breath before he withdrew, then dove into me again. I thought I might pass out. “Cadell, did you hear me?”
“I’ll let him know,” I got out around the moan that threatened to escape. Tristian’s lips curved against me, his teeth scraping against the apex of my sex as he inserted another finger, the fullness bringing my release closer. Boots walked away, the door slamming.
Tristian twisted his hand until his fingers found that spot inside me. He applied pressure, and my eyes rolled back. A pleased sound escaped him, the vibration shuddering through me. I couldn’t contain the moan that ripped through me in answer. My hands dug into his hair as my legs trembled.
“That’s it, Sasha,” he encouraged before his mouth captured me again. He sucked, and his fingers hooked on that spot. I hurtled toward that precipice, pleasure mounting. I was falling apart in his relentless onslaught. He watched me the entire time as I began to fracture, climax within my grasp.
“Tristian.” His name left my lips without a thought. It was as if he had been waiting for it. He unleashed any remaining restraints. He devoured me, a devotee to my pleasure. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to as release hurtled through me. I shattered around his fingers, on his tongue.
His free hand kept me pinned as he licked and pumped into me, wringing out every ounce of pleasure until the hand woven in his hair and the grip I had on the sink were the only things keeping me in this world.
I couldn’t take any more. I tugged ruthlessly on Tristian’s hair, pulling him away and up.
I leaned forward, grabbing for his belt. I needed him. All of him.
Tristian walked back, putting more distance between us.
Until his hands sat trapped behind his back as he leaned against the wall.
He looked me over one last time, something I couldn’t place there.
As I remained spread before him, I glanced down at his obvious desire for me, straining against his pants.
He grinned at me, his mouth still gleaming with my wetness. “Distracted?”
I didn’t know what to say. Confusion pelted me, disintegrating the warm haze of my release. I slowly closed my legs as I nodded.
“Good. I’m glad I could help…distract you.” Tristian pulled the door to the bathroom open, not even bothering to wipe his mouth as he left.
A sickening jolt of something cold went through me as I sat on the sink. His steps traveled farther away until the door to the living quarters opened and closed, leaving me alone.
The chill of the metal seeped in as the heat of desire fell away. I replayed everything that had just happened. He had asked what I wanted…I had said a distraction. I couldn’t handle it being anything else.
So why did it feel like my world had shifted permanently?
I slipped off the sink, pulling on my clothing scattered across the floor. I had known—I knew before we had even started that I would regret this, that I would pay for it. I turned, catching my appearance in the mirror, my lips swollen, my cheeks flushed.
The regrets I envisioned were nothing like the ones I now held. He had run as if he regretted it. I was drowning in the hell of my mind once again. I didn’t know how I would recover.
The following morning, I woke with my stomach in knots.
It had nothing to do with going above in just a few bells.
Tristian had left me spread before him on the sink, and he had just run off.
I had never been laid out like that, the sole focus, unraveled in a way that left me grabbing frantically for him, desperation driving me forward.
I had never wanted anyone like that. Needed.
I shook the thoughts away as I threw on my thermals, grabbed the med bag, and aimed for the door. All three beds lay empty. I didn’t know where Rumi or Isla might be. I knew where I would find Ingrid.
The trip to the closet was quiet enough, the tunnels not yet awake. I entered to find Bretta sleeping, Ingrid beside her. Ingrid brushed herself off, coming to a stand as I laid the bag down.
“Any changes?” I asked as Ingrid gently shook her sister awake.
“No.” Ingrid helped Bretta into a seated position. “She still has a fever. She’s been mostly sleeping. Her cough sounds bad.” Ingrid’s short hair sat at odd angles, as if she had spent the time I had been away attempting to pull it out.
“How do you feel?” I asked her.
Ingrid shook her head. “I’m fine. Take care of Bretta.”
I ran an exam that confirmed Ingrid’s assessment—a crackling in Bretta’s lungs. “There isn’t much I can do now. I still don’t know how this will progress. You should rest and stay hydrated. I wouldn’t leave here,” I informed them.
Ingrid ran her hands down her face. “Isn’t there something you can do?”
I shook my head. Ingrid ground her teeth, but Bretta’s small hand intertwined with her sister’s as she spoke. “Thank you, Sasha. I appreciate you trying.” Ingrid squeezed the hand in hers tightly, and Bretta continued. “Tish is covering for me in the Kitchens. It’ll be okay, Ingrid.”
“Someone I used to work with knows you’re here, Bretta,” I said. Ingrid attempted to close the distance between us, but Bretta held her hand firmly, keeping her from firing a fist in my direction.
“I trusted you,” Ingrid bit out.
“I know. You can trust Owen. He’s promised to keep this quiet. I can’t leave Bretta here without someone to monitor her.”
“I’m going to watch over her.”
I stopped, confused. “The mission?”
Ingrid couldn’t look at me. “I’m not going. Tristian knows. I can’t leave her.”
Unit Seven was down to five members.
“I told her—” Bretta started but stopped abruptly, clutching her chest as a hacking cough engulfed her. “To go, that I would be fine,” Bretta gasped. Ingrid grabbed a cup of water and helped her sister drink.
“Owen is trustworthy. He won’t tell. He’s a doctor now. Kumar trained him,” I said as a bell rang. “I have to go.”
I gathered my things as Ingrid approached me, grabbing my arm. “If Owen rats her out—”
“You’ll kill me. If I fail, you’ll kill me,” I bit out, unable to say what failing meant. I didn’t flinch at her fury. “I know how this ends for me. I wouldn’t stop you. If I had someone to blame besides myself for my sister’s death, I would have done the same.”
Ingrid’s shock filled the room.
“I understand, Ingrid,” I said quietly, and left.
Two bells later, after checking on Daisy, I entered the room where our gear was held to find it empty, except for Patrick. He sat on the only bench still upright, his head in his hands. Two benches lay on their sides as if someone had flipped them.
“Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know. Mission was called due to weather,” Patrick informed me.
Right, another enemy no one could defeat. Or was it? What had Rumi and Levi discovered about the weather report they had mentioned? “Why?”
“Forecast isn’t reliable. Command called it one bell ago,” Patrick told his knees, papers clutched in his fist.
“Do you trust it?” I asked, confirming we were alone.
“I don’t know what to trust anymore. They sealed the exits.”
“What?” I gasped.
His dejected eyes found mine. “We’re trapped.”