24. Kai
Kai
I stay where I am for a long time.
Watching. Debating, my breathing harsh in comparison to the sleeping girl on the bed in front of me.
I’m not usually one to hesitate. Out of the three of us, Jenson is the cautious one, the one who treads carefully where River and I tend to fuck things up first and question ourselves later.
I don’t want to fuck this up.
I’ve been watching her for hours. But she still takes my breath away as I stand, stepping silently toward the bed and pausing with my hand gripping the corner post.
The courage it took to do this. To give herself to us, to bare herself in the most vulnerable, physical way a person could offer. To trust us to keep her safe, to keep to our agreement.
I don’t know what we did to earn it. But I refuse to squander it.
And tomorrow, she’s going to see a little of that vulnerability reflected in all of us. In Jenson’s harsh, demanding words as he looked into her face and gave her all of the obsession he tries to hide so desperately. In River’s shaking hands as he held her so gently, even after stealing a part of her to keep with him.
And in me. I wonder what she’ll see. What she’ll take from this. If she’ll even get to this point, or if she’ll switch off, having seen enough to reassure her or enough to unnerve her.
My eyes slip to the red light, and away.
My hands move quickly. I don’t have the words that the others do. Even with my hands, I’m not able to articulate my thoughts as well as they can – not because of my speech, but because of my own mind. Every thought is tangled up inside my head in jagged knots, only bits and pieces able to slip free.
The mattress bends beneath my knee as I kick off my sweats and climb on, holding my breath as I lean over Briar. My fingers hovering, but not touching .
Even as she sleeps, I don’t feel quite so alone.
I’m so fucking tired of feeling alone.
Of being ignored completely, or worse, seen as a toy to be played with and tossed aside. I’ve never been with a woman without that awkwardness. Without the expectation of something I cannot give and being ignored or dismissed when I can’t offer it.
And here I am. For the first time in my life, there will be no awkwardness. No uncomfortable. loaded silence. No dismissal, or edged questions about my speech. No swift exit as I’m still catching my breath.
In a world where women look at me like I’m different, as if the blood in my veins is any fucking different to theirs, I will settle for a night with a woman who can’t look at me at all. Who I can relax with, play with, hold like an actual human being instead of always being left behind for something better.
It’s not sex that I crave. It’s connection .
How fucking pathetic that I feel more of it in this moment than I’ve experienced in my entire life.
Except for one time. Earlier tonight, in a car with a dark-haired girl who pressed her lips to mine like I mattered.
My fingers trace her skin as if she might break, shatter, disappear beneath my touch. Briar still doesn’t feel real to me. As if she might vanish at every moment.
My gaze snags on her mouth, and I swallow before I lean down. The press of my lips to hers is careful, gentle. I brush up and down, my hand sliding up to cradle her face as I slip my tongue inside and taste her.
That noise , deep and a little desperate, sounds in my throat again. I rarely make any sounds at all aside from breathing, too used to keeping quiet. Pulling back, I carefully pull her closer, so we’re on our sides facing each other. My hand slips down to her thigh, running over it several times before I breathe in and hitch it, settling her leg over my waist as my arm slips beneath her neck, acting as a pillow.
And my lips meet hers again as I push inside, my breathing erratic and harsh as I roll my hips into hers, steel meeting hot flesh.
She’s so… soft. Everywhere.
Another noise, as I keep taking her mouth, sucking on her lower lip and gently biting down. And all the while, I keep fucking her.
Although fucking doesn’t feel like the right word. My hand is tight around the back of her thigh, holding her against me as the bed dips and moves beneath us. And the way her body moves for me, takes everything from me, submits for me… I can’t stop my hips from speeding up. I’m gasping into her mouth, her neck, my lips travelling down and teeth dragging over the sensitive skin of her throat as her head tips back and my palm moves to cradle her head.
I sink my teeth in a little deeper, even as I roll, bringing her underneath me as I flex, driving myself into her pussy with increasing speed. The faint banging of the headboard reaches my ears before I slow, carefully dragging my cock free.
It comes out glistening – her own body’s reactions or my own excitement, I don’t know or care. But I can feel the familiar tingle in my lower spine, deeper and more potent than I’ve ever felt it, and I glance down to where we’re joined. My cock is barely an inch inside her, and I thrust in shallow movements, glancing up to take in her slack face.
It makes something twist inside me. Something darker. Possession, protectiveness, I don’t know. Whatever it is, it has me gripped tightly in claws of steel.
I pull out once, rubbing the head of my cock over her pussy, her clit, before I notch it back to her entrance just in time for my climax to hit like a fucking truck. Throwing my head back, I soak in the feel of my release filling Briar, her legs spread wide as she lays there and takes every single drop. Her pussy is swollen and slick, my cum already leaking from her.
I almost topple on her before catching myself, rolling to the side and bringing her with me until she’s sprawled across my chest. Small puffs of breath warm my skin. Staring up at the ceiling, I drink in the feel of her against me, her warm weight a counter to the sudden chill that sweeps across my body.
What if this – us – was too much?
She might bolt tomorrow. Walk away, realizing that this isn’t something she wants to continue. And we would have to let her go. I’d have to watch her walk away to whatever she’s dealing with in her own life.
Brows drawing down, I press my lips against her head, reaching for the sheets and wrapping them over her bare back. Beneath them, my hands move down her spine in a gentle caress. Over the smooth skin below. Gentle touches to her neck, stroking through her hair, breathing in her scent as I wrap my arms around her and breathe.
Just for a few minutes.
Connection . It’s what I wanted from this arrangement, but it’s not enough. Not without Briar here with me in full, awake and aware and sleepy and sated. But it’s the closest I’ve ever had.
And I’d take even a small part of Briar Rose over nothing at all.