Chapter 6 #4
They say time heals all wounds, but the truth is, only to some extent.
Some things stay with you forever. You are fine one moment, and then in the next, it all comes rushing back.
Like now. It’s that feeling again caught in my throat.
I can’t ignore it, the silence is growing worse within, the panic breaking like a wave, and I’m weeping in its wake.
Meg’s technique is not working. I’m unable to breathe; my lungs are on fire.
It keeps stabbing me in my chest, making me bleed.
I yelp as I’m moved once again. Ezra crouches slightly, and somehow I’m lifted in his arms bridal style. I feel his warmth seeping through my clothes and only now realize how cold I am. He takes one of my clammy hands and flattens it on his chest.
“Feel my breaths.” He takes deep ones, and I focus only on the movement beneath my fingers. Little by little, I’m able to feel oxygen filling my lungs again, but I know the anxiety attack is far from over.
My heart is still racing. The more I feel him, the easier I breathe, though.
I give an involuntary shiver. A few goose bumps have broken out on my arms, and I nuzzle closer to the heat source.
It’s helping to ground me. I try to pick out things, anything I can hold on to, desperate to stay in this moment and not slip back into the silence.
The smell of chocolate on his breath, the hardness of his chest, his chin resting on my head.
The feeling is finally returning to my hands and lips, and the nausea is gone. It suddenly hits me that I’m sitting on Ezra’s lap. My face is pushed into his neck. My legs bent, thighs stuck to his sides, both my hands tucked between us under his shirt and on his bare chest.
The realization that he’s been holding me through the remnants of my anxiety attack is horrifying.
Vulnerability slams into me, and I fight the urge to groan.
My cheeks are burning with shame. I can feel Ezra’s intense gaze on me, but I don’t open my eyes.
If I keep them closed a little longer, perhaps I can forget that I have completely humiliated myself.
Trusting that the worst of it is over, I pull myself back. His fingers gently wipe the tears from my face as I keep my gaze down. His touch is making my skin tingle in the most incredible way, and I can’t stop savoring the moment—unfortunately it’s too short.
His hand slides under my chin, tilting my head back until I see him.
Face-to-face. The mask is gone, and here he is.
The sexiest and most confusing man I’ve ever met.
His presence is mesmerizing, and yet again I question my sanity—and his.
Because we’ve barely spoken since I met him, and now I’ve discovered he’s been ensuring my well-being from afar all this time.
Did Oliver put him up to it? The others? My head is about to implode.
Gods, he’s so beautiful. Concern isn’t etched on his somber features, but I can see a hint of emotion in his penetrating eyes.
“I’m sorry.” I feel the need to apologize.
“Your body’s response isn’t your fault,” he simply states.
Isn’t it? It’s my brain that is tricking my body into thinking something is wrong. It’s all…me.
My eyes move around the interior of the car. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice he carried me into the backseat.
My hands leave the warmth of his chest, and I push away from him a little more, thinking it’s safe to move. But the side of my head is throbbing again, and I wince as I stop my movement. My palm lands on the front of his hoodie, fisting the fabric as I try to push away past memories yet again.
The feel of his fingers wrapping around the back of my head stills my thoughts. They run through my hair until they find a good grip, and in the next moment, my head is tipped back and my breath taken away.
Is this what a kiss is supposed to feel like?
Like a mouth possession? A capture of will?
He delves inside using his demanding tongue, inescapable lips, and unforgiving teeth like he’s trying to dig his way into me.
I feel weak and melt under his attack, gasping for breath.
He’s going to eat me from head to toe, and all I want to do is spread myself in front of him and offer him everything I am.
If only with a kiss he can already command me completely, what would happen if he does more? He sucks on my tongue, ripping a moan out of my throat. I’m getting hard.
“Fuck!” he mutters, giving my lower lip one bite before pulling back.
It takes me an extra second to open my eyes—I’m saving the sweet taste of his lips inside my brain. I blink, and before his face comes to focus, I whisper, “Why did you kiss me?”
Oh boy! He looks hungry, slowly licking his lips while staring at me like a wolf would a pork chop.
“It’s what you needed.”
The kiss did work. It distracted me and even eased the ache on the side of my head.
“How did you know?” When even I didn’t know?
“I know everything about you,” he declares in such a dominant voice that a shiver runs through my body.
His eyebrows twitch before he gently pulls my ripped jacket off—there’s a big tear on the back.
He unzips his hoodie and takes it off, quickly putting it on me and pulling the hood up over my head.
It feels amazing. Being wrapped in more of his scent and warmth. It smells familiar somehow. Soothing.
He growls, his hands land on my hips, taking a firm hold as he looks me up and down with the same level of hunger as before—maybe even more. I am not afraid. The idea of being consumed by him makes me feel heady.
I give him a little smile as I lean into him. I turn my face into the shoulder of his thermal shirt, smelling the rich scent of Ezra right from the source. I let out a soft whine as I feel his palms lowering on my ass cheeks and pulling me even closer against his body.
It feels so good, I snuggle up to him and close my eyes.
His breath scatters on my temple and his body warmth digs into me as I relax a little more into his arms. I feel drained.
Through his firm touch, he seems to convey that I’m safe with him.
His caging arms hold me still, pinned to him.
A question floats to the surface of my barely conscious mind.
Was I saved? Or was I captured?
I wake up feeling all groggy. There’s a rich scent of pine and ash coming off me. I must have mixed my clothes in the dorm laundry room with Ezra’s. Ezra’s?
Everything comes back to me in a rush. The air gets stuck inside my throat for a few seconds.
I touch the side of my head with trembling fingers and wince a little.
The panic I felt has vanished, but I still feel kind of woozy and disoriented.
I slowly open my eyes, I’m on a bed wearing only a big T-shirt.
His T-shirt, hence the pine and ash scent all over me—then why have I been smelling the same scent back in my dorm room?
He never came to visit me—at least, not when I was there…
He must have brought me here while I was unconscious and changed my clothes.
The thought of him tending to me makes my stomach flutter.
It should make me feel uneasy, imagining myself in such a vulnerable position, but it just doesn’t.
Because of the red bandana around my bruised wrist and the pink Band-Aids on the side of my hand and around my finger.
They have little black hearts drawn on them.
Ezra did this. He gave the same ones to Sari once.
The extreme cuteness of it which I would’ve never associated with Ezra makes me grin.
I know very little about him… apart from the stalking part. Still can’t believe that, by the way.
It’s dark outside—no sunlight is attempting to sneak in between the bamboo blinds. I must have slept only for a short time.
I feel hot. As my head starts to get clearer I notice the heavy arm around my waist, caging me against a big, granite-hard body. Ezra’s hot body. He cocoons me under the soft duvet and it strikes me how perfectly I fit against him. Nestled and tucked into him. I like it a fuck of a lot.
Something hard is poking between my thighs. Gods, is he…? In his sleep? Nope. It’s morning wood. I have it too, but for a completely different reason—Ezra’s proximity being that reason.
The flutter resumes. Multiplies. Spreads.
My heart beats violently as I remember his kiss, his taste.
His ardor, the greediness, just as intense as he is.
My ass clenches while my brief-clad dick gives a twitch.
I wiggle my hips, unable to stay still when the sexiest sleepy voice I’ve ever heard whispers in my ear, “Relax, Little Chick.”
“Ezra,” I almost moan.
He hums. “Who else?” His arm tightens around my middle, pushing my ass firmly against his growing dick. How much bigger is it going to get? My shoulders stiffen. My hands are sweating while my mouth has suddenly turned dry. But when he lets go of me and moves away, I make a disappointed sound.
“Umm…get up?” The extremely high-pitched, half-comprehensible words have come out of my mouth for some reason. If he didn’t know how awkward I can be, he certainly does now.
But his body settles right back to where it was—spooning my back. He hands me something, my glasses, before burying his face into my neck and chuckling.
“I’m already up.” He grinds that hard bulge between my ass cheeks. My eyes flutter closed before rolling in the back of my head.
His strong fingers move down my neck, starting an erotic caress over my body, my shoulders, chest, nipples, belly. All the blood rushes down to my weeping cock, and the most delicious tingles dance along my skin.
“Are you okay?” he asks. I can only nod energetically in response.
The tips of his long fingers hook under the waistband of my briefs, but he doesn’t make any move to push them down.
“Don’t deny me, Sully.”