Chapter 19 – Rex
REX
She doesn't stop.
My cock is soft in her hand and she knows exactly why and she doesn't pull away, doesn't hesitate, doesn't make that face—the one I've imagined a thousand times in my worst scenarios, the disgust, the pity, the oh god what happened to you, even your dick is fucked up.
Her thumb traces the unmarred skin along the underside while her mouth presses a kiss to my hip bone.
"Bells." My voice comes out as a hoarse growl. "You don't have to—it's—"
"Shut up, Rex."
Her tongue drags up the length of me. Slow. Deliberate. Avoiding the worst of the scar tissue, the parts that make me flinch. Finding the parts that still have the good kind of feeling. Mapping every inch.
I'm not getting hard again. The scar tissue pulls when blood tries to rush there and the pain is a dull, insistent throb that my brain translates as wrong wrong this is wrong you're broken you're disgusting she can see you she can see everything she knows what you fucking look like now and—
Bells's tongue does something.
This fucking twist against the head that sends a bolt of sensation through me so sharp it cuts through the static like a knife through fog. My hips jerk. A sound tears out of my throat that I didn't authorize.
She does it again.
And again.
Each time, the darkness gets a little further away. Each time, my body responds despite itself, despite the scars, despite the decade of self-imposed isolation telling me this can't happen, this shouldn't happen, not to me, not—
Her mouth is warm. Wet. Her tongue curls around me and she sucks gently.
I'm half-hard. Maybe more. The scar pulls and it hurts but the hurt is getting tangled up with the pleasure in ways I can't separate anymore. My hand is still on the bookshelf. My knuckles are white. Books are scattered across the floor around us.
She takes me deeper.
"Fuck—"
My hand leaves the bookshelf and finds her hair, white strands threading between my fingers as my brain keeps trying to shut down like it's fucking rebooting. Keeps trying to drag me into the dark where it's safe.
Where it's predictable.
Bells is fighting it off somehow, her hand working the swelling knot at the base of my cock while her mouth covers the rest. My head tips back and hits the bookshelf with a thud.
I can hear myself panting like I've sprinted a mile and some distant part of my brain is embarrassed by that but the rest of me is too busy being alive to care.
The scar snaking down my shaft twinges and the sharp lance of pain makes me snarl and go soft again at the same time.
FUCK.
I grab her.
I don't decide to do it. My body just moves, hands under her arms, hauling her up off her knees and pinning her against the one wall that isn't covered in shelving and books. She yelps, legs kicking air, and I crush my mouth against hers before she can say another word.
The kiss is messy. Desperate. I taste my own salt on her tongue and she kisses me back with a ferocity that matches mine, her fingers fisting in my shirt. My hands are on her waist, her ribs, everywhere at once.
She lets out a breathless laugh that goes straight to my cock. "Rex—"
I'm already dropping.
Already sinking to my knees the way she did, my hands sliding down her sides to her hips and easily supporting her weight against the wall as her hands grip my wrists. I yank at the waistband of her jeans with my teeth and she helps, wriggling, kicking one leg free.
Her silicone dick flops out of her pants and lands on the floor between us with a slap sound like a dead fish.
Bells loses her shit laughing. "Oh my gods, I forgot about that."
I manage a puff of air through my nose. Not a laugh, but rare enough. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, kicking the dildo… prosthetic… whatever the fuck it is out of the way.
"Don't kick my cock!" she hisses. "That shit was expensive!"
"Why does it have to be expensive? Who the fuck is going to see it?"
She flashes a bright grin at me. "What? Are you jealous?"
My lip curls at her. "No," I grit out, pushing her up higher on the wall before she can laugh herself into not being able to fucking come.
My hands shift to grip the backs of her thighs, arranging her legs to drape over my shoulders.
She's still shaking with laughter even as she braces her back against the wall and clings to me for dear life, my face level with—
Her scent hits me like a wall.
Something rich and warm and sweet that makes every alpha instinct I've buried for a decade come to life in a single, deafening roar.
She's dripping.
More than I was expecting—way fucking more—and the honeyed warmth of her scent short-circuits whatever's left of my higher brain function.
But she's… a beta.
She's—
NO.
I shove the thought out of my head like I'm fucking drowning it and shove my tongue into her dripping pussy instead.
"Rex—oh fuck—"
Her thighs clamp around my head. Her hand flies to my hair, gripping hard as I lick a broad stripe through her folds and she bucks against my face, a sound coming out of her that I want to hear for the rest of my fucking life.
I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing. But she doesn't seem to notice. Or complain.
She's so wet. Impossibly wet. It's everywhere—on my tongue, my chin, soaking through the edges of my mask. The taste of her is—
I don't have words.
I don't need them.
My tongue finds her clit and she makes a strangled noise, her heel digging into my back.
I do it again, working her with a single-minded focus that blocks out everything else—the photo, the comments, the scar, the dark room, all of it collapsing to nothing in the face of Bells grinding against my mouth and making sounds that are going to haunt my dreams every night if I'm undeservedly lucky.
"Right there—right there—don't stop—"
I don't stop.
My fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs, holding her in place, keeping her pinned against the wall while I devour her.
Her hips roll against my face in desperate, stuttering movements.
The chain between our cuffed wrists jingles ridiculously with every shift, drowned out by her increasingly frantic breathing.
"Rex… I'm gonna—fuck—"
She comes with a cry that she bites off behind her fist.
Her whole body locks up, trembling, her thighs squeezing my head so tight I can't hear anything but my own pulse.
I feel her pulse against my tongue, rapid, fluttering.
I keep going, softer now, until I've licked up every last honeyed drop.
Her body goes slack in my hands and her grip in my hair loosens.
I'm hard.
Fully, achingly, painfully hard.
That sound and scent and her thighs crushing my fucking head broke through all the bullshit lighting me up from the inside. Everything still hurts but for once the pain is secondary to the desperate, overwhelming need to—
Bells slides down the wall. Her feet hit the floor and she sways, catching herself on my shoulders. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, her mouth curving into a triumphant grin.
She drops and her mouth is on me before I can get back into my own head again, hot and wet and aggressive this time with none of the careful patience from before. She takes me deep and sucks hard and my vision whites out. My hand slams against the wall behind her. My hips snap forward.
"Bells—fuck—I can't—"
The orgasm rips through me embarrassingly fast with a snarl that doesn't sound human.
My whole body seizes, my spine arching, my hand fisting in her hair as I come harder than I've ever come in my entire pathetic life.
Every nerve ending fires at once, every wall and defense and brick of fortress blown apart like she just unleashed a fucking nuke on them.
Bells doesn't pull away.
When I can see again, when the room stops spinning and my legs stop threatening to give out, she's sitting on the floor at my feet, bone-white hair a mess, still grinning even as she licks my cock clean.
When she finishes with one last long lick that makes me shudder and growl again, she looks up at me with those honey-gold eyes full of something I can't even begin to place and don't know if I want to.
Don't know if I can go down that road right now.
I slide down the wall until I'm sitting beside her. My legs won't support me anyway.
We sit there, breathing together, the handcuff chain pooled between us on the stone floor.
"So," Bells says finally, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. That damn grin still hasn't faded. If anything, she's grinning even more now, like she won a game I didn't even realize I was playing. "Ready to go back out there and face the music?"
I stare at her.
"You're so fucking corny."
She laughs. A real honest-to-gods laugh that's more of a maniacal cackle than anything and I catch the corner of my mouth twitching.
The corner that can, at least.
The darkness starts to creep in again. This time, it doesn't completely fucking take over. I can think straight for once as I rise to my feet, pulling Bells with me.
"You sure we can't take these stupid things off?" I ask, making the chain jangle deliberately.
"Nope," she says, still grinning as she bends down to pick up her pants.
My mouth goes dry at the view as she tugs her boxers on, then her pants, the waistband pressing into her milky thighs. She hops in place on one foot to pull her pants up higher, then the other foot, her ass jiggling with each bounce.
When she finishes straightening herself out, she picks up her floppy silicone dick and brushes it off. Or tries. It's covered in lint.
“Hey. Rex.”
“What?” I ask warily.
She looks back at me. “You know how I licked your dick clean after I sucked you off?”
I stare at her. “I am not licking the fucking lint off your rubber dick.”
“Worth a shot,” she says, sighing. "You think Orion and Jamie would notice if I rinsed it off in their sink?"
"Yes. And they would take it the wrong way and invite you to another 'game night.' Where the game is hunting you for sport."