Chapter 51
Chapter
Fifty-One
Zane
The apartment settled into an unfamiliar quiet around three in the morning.
Winter had finally crashed after her spectacular paperwork manifestation, curled up in her bed with Horrace wrapped around her like a living security blanket.
Milo had followed shortly after, exhausted from helping Fenric categorize the spontaneously generated forms into seventeen different piles organized by "level of bureaucratic absurdity. "
Fenric himself had retreated to his makeshift office corner around midnight, muttering about filing systems and reality-defying administrative protocols.
Which left Rook and me on night watch.
I'd positioned myself in the armchair with a book I wasn't actually reading, while Rook stood sentry by the sliding glass door that led to the small balcony. He'd been there for hours, silhouette backlit by city lights, shoulders tense despite the lack of immediate threats.
The silence between us had weight. Not hostile anymore, but not comfortable either.
We'd been dancing around something since the Harmonic Alignment Chamber disaster, since that forced confession about wondering what he tasted like.
The admission had been involuntary, dragged out by magic, but that didn't make it less true.
I turned another page I hadn't read, watching him from the corner of my eye. The lean muscle of his back was visible through his thin t-shirt, tension evident in every line. His fingers drummed against his thigh in an irregular pattern that suggested restless energy with nowhere to go.
"You're going to wear a hole in your jeans," I finally set aside my book.
Rook didn't turn. "Someone has to stay alert."
"I'm alert. And there's been zero activity for six hours." I stood, stretching muscles that had stiffened from sitting too long. "Even cultists need sleep."
"They don't sleep. They wait."
I moved closer, drawn by something I couldn't name. "We should talk."
That got his attention. Rook turned from the window, amber eyes finding mine in the dim light. "About?"
The word came out guarded, defensive. Classic Rook.
I crossed my arms, leaning against the wall near the door. "Us. Our attraction we keep fighting."
His entire body went rigid. For a long moment, he said nothing, just stared at me with an expression I couldn't read. I was about to give up, to retreat back to my chair and pretend I hadn't said anything, when his voice cut through the silence.
"Yes, there is an attraction." The admission sounded torn from somewhere deep. "I'd be stupid to keep trying to deny it. But what do we do about it?"
The question hung between us, honest in a way Rook rarely allowed himself to be. I pushed away from the wall, taking a step toward him.
"We can see where it goes."
His eyes tracked my approach, predator-wary but not retreating. "And Winter? Milo? Fenric?"
"What about them?" I stopped just within arm's reach. "We're all part of this thing. All connected. Doesn't mean you and I can't explore what's between us."
Rook's jaw worked, processing. His hands flexed at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling. "I don't know how to do this."
"Neither do I," I admitted, taking another step. I'd never been with someone who could take me. "But I'm tired of pretending I don't want to."
The air between us crackled with tension. Close enough now that I could smell him, pine and earth and something wild that made my fae blood sing with recognition.
"Zane." My name was a warning. Or maybe permission. Hard to tell with Rook.
I closed the remaining distance in one smooth motion, sliding my hand to cup the back of his neck. His skin was furnace-hot beneath my palm, pulse hammering against my fingertips.
"If you don't want this, say so now," I gave him one last out.
His answer was to grab the front of my shirt and yank me against him, his mouth crashing into mine with none of the careful control I'd shown with Winter or the gentle exploration I'd shared with Milo. This was raw and demanding, teeth and tongue and barely restrained violence.
I opened to him immediately, meeting his aggression with my own. My fingers tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough to sting. He growled into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my chest where we pressed together.
We broke apart for air, both breathing hard. Rook's eyes had gone full wolf-gold, pupils blown wide with desire. Before either of us could second-guess what was happening, he spun me around, pressing my front against the glass door. The cool surface was a shock against my overheated skin.
"This what you wanted?" His breath was hot against my ear, his body a solid wall of muscle at my back. "To see what the wolf tastes like?"
"Yes," I didn't bother hiding my arousal, my cock already hard and straining against my pants.
Rook's hand slid around to grip my throat, not squeezing, just holding. A claiming gesture that sent heat pooling low in my stomach. His other hand found my hip, fingers digging in possessively.
"We do this, there's no taking it back." His voice had dropped to that rumbling growl that was more animal than man.
"Good," I pressed back against him, feeling his own considerable arousal through the layers of clothing between us. "I don't want to take it back."
He released my throat only to spin me back around, his mouth finding mine again with bruising intensity. I gave as good as I got, my hands already working at his shirt, needing to feel skin. He yanked my own shirt over my head without breaking the kiss, tossing it aside carelessly.
When we finally pulled apart, his eyes raked over my exposed chest, taking in the scattered scars from centuries of demon hunting. His fingers traced one particularly vicious mark that curved along my ribs.
"Battle damage," I explained unnecessarily.
"Makes you real," Rook's thumb brushed the scar with unexpected tenderness before his expression hardened again. "On the floor."
The command sent a thrill through me. I was used to being in control, to directing the action. The idea of surrendering that to Rook, to his raw power and barely contained violence, made my pulse race.
I sank to my knees on the hardwood, looking up at him. "Now what?"
His eyes darkened further, the gold consuming any trace of amber. "Now you show me what that smart mouth can do besides make terrible jokes."
I reached for his belt, but he caught my wrists, holding them captive in one large hand.
"Did I say you could touch?" His voice was pure authority.
"No," I admitted, excitement building.
"Then ask permission."
"May I touch you?" The words came easier than expected.
"You may."
He released my wrists, and I made quick work of his belt and zipper, pushing his pants down to reveal him, thick and hard and already leaking. My own cock throbbed in sympathy, trapped painfully in my jeans.
I took him in hand first, stroking slowly, learning the weight and heat of him. Rook's breathing grew rougher, his hands finding my hair, fingers tangling but not pulling. Yet.
"Enough teasing," he growled.
I smiled up at him before taking him into my mouth, swallowing him down in one smooth motion. Rook's grip tightened in my hair, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth as I worked him with practiced skill.
The taste of him flooded my senses, salt and musk and pure male. I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper, one hand bracing against his thigh while the other moved to cup his balls, rolling them gently.
"Fuck," Rook's hips jerked forward involuntarily. "Just like that."
I hummed in response, the vibration making him curse again. His fingers tightened almost painfully in my hair, and I felt the moment his control began to slip, hips moving in shallow thrusts as he fucked my mouth.
I relaxed my throat, taking him deeper, breathing through my nose as he hit the back of my throat. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes from the pressure, but I didn't pull back. If anything, I urged him on, hands gripping his ass to encourage the rhythm.
"Zane," my name was strangled, warning. "I'm close."
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, then deliberately took him deep again, swallowing around him.
The sensation pushed him over the edge. Rook came with a growl that was pure wolf, his release pulsing hot and bitter across my tongue.
I swallowed it all, working him through the aftershocks until he was trembling.
When I finally released him, he looked down at me with an expression that mixed satisfaction with something maybe like wonder. "Get up here."
I stood, my own arousal painful now. Rook's hands immediately went to my jeans, making quick work of button and zipper. His large palm wrapped around my cock, and I gasped at the contact, hips jerking forward into his grip. My pants were gone and I had no idea how.
"On the floor," he ordered. "On your back."
I complied, the hardwood uncomfortable against my bare shoulders but I didn't care. Rook stripped off his remaining clothes, then knelt between my spread legs. His eyes raked over me with predatory appreciation, lingering on my straining erection.
"I'm going to fuck you now," his voice was matter-of-fact, as if discussing the weather. "And you're going to take every inch like the good fae you are."
The casual dominance in his tone made my cock twitch. "Yes."
He pushed my thighs wider, his strength effortless. "Prep?"
I'd been demon hunting for two centuries. Preparation was second nature. With a whispered word and a flash of fae magic, slick appeared, coating my entrance and easing the way.
"Convenient," Rook's lips quirked as he positioned himself, the head of his cock pressing against my hole.
He pushed forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his considerable size. The stretch burned in the best way, my body opening to accommodate him inch by inch. When he was fully seated, we both groaned at the sensation.
"Move," I urged when he stilled, one hand gripping his hip. "Don't hold back."
Rook's eyes flashed with something feral. "Careful what you wish for."
He pulled back and thrust forward hard enough to make me see stars. I cried out, pleasure and pain blurring together as he set a punishing rhythm, each powerful drive of his hips sending shockwaves through my body.
My hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth floor, finding nothing to grip as he fucked me with single-minded intensity. The wolf was fully present now, all primal need and dominant claiming.
"Touch yourself," Rook ordered, his voice strained with exertion. "I want to watch you fall apart."
I wrapped my hand around my cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was overwhelming, my body caught between the rough friction of my own hand and the perfect pressure of him hitting that spot inside me with devastating accuracy.
"That's it," Rook's hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. "Show me."
The pleasure built impossibly high, tension coiling tighter in my core. When Rook shifted angles slightly, hitting that spot dead-on, I came with a shout, my release coating my stomach and chest in thick ropes.
The sight of me coming undone beneath him pushed Rook over the edge. He drove deep one final time, his body shuddering as he filled me, his howl of completion rattling the windows.
We collapsed together on the floor, both breathing hard, slick with sweat and satisfied in ways that went beyond physical.
"Well," I managed after my breathing returned to normal, "that was unexpected."
Rook propped himself on one elbow, looking down at me with an expression that could have been soft. "You okay?"
"Better than okay," I reached up to touch his jaw, feeling the rough stubble there. "That was fucking incredible."
His lips curved into a genuine smile, rare and beautiful. "Yeah. It was."
We lay there in companionable silence, neither in a hurry to move despite the uncomfortable floor. Eventually, Rook shifted, withdrawing carefully before helping me sit up.
"We should clean up before someone finds us like this," he gestured to our disheveled state.
"Probably wise," I agreed, though I made no move to stand. "Though after today's paperwork incident, I think our dignity is already shot."
Rook actually laughed at that, the sound warm and unexpected. He stood, offering me his hand. I accepted, letting him pull me to my feet.
"This doesn't change anything with Winter," Rook spoke as he pulled his shirt back on. "Or the others."
"I know," I nodded. "But it changes things between us."
"Yeah," he met my eyes, a hint of his usual gruffness softening. "It does."
We cleaned up in silence, restoring order to the living room. By the time we finished, dawn was beginning to lighten the sky outside. Rook returned to his position by the door, but the tension that usually defined his posture had eased somewhat.
I settled back into my chair, picking up my book again. But this time, when our eyes met across the room, there was understanding there. Connection.
The Harbinger belongs to all, I thought, remembering the ancient ward's proclamation. Including, apparently, each other.