Chapter 25 #2
“Fuck, you’re soaked for me,” he rasps, voice muffled as he dives back in, licking me open, sucking hard on my clit until I’m sobbing his name. His fingers slip inside, thick and sure, curling just right, and I nearly come undone right then, bucking against his mouth.
But I’m not passive—gods, I can’t be. My hands are searching blindly, needing him, all of him. I reach down, wrapping my fingers around the hard, heavy length of him, stroking as he groans against me, hips jerking helplessly into my grip.
“Fuck, Lithia—” he gasps, voice breaking, fingers tightening on my thighs as I work him, feeling him pulse in my hand, thick and hot and desperate.
When I’m trembling on the edge, dizzy with need, I push up onto my elbows, tugging him up, flipping him onto his back with a strength that surprises us both. His eyes flare wide, breath shuddering out in a laugh—proud, turned on, undone.
I slide down his body, kissing, licking, tasting every inch, until I wrap my mouth around him, taking him deep, hollowing my cheeks, sucking hard.
“Fuck, baby, gods—” He fists his hands in my hair, not pulling, just holding on, groaning raggedly as I swallow him down, working him with mouth and hand until his hips stutter and his head tips back with a choked-off cry.
He comes hard, hips jerking, warm and salty against my tongue, and I moan softly around him, licking him clean, not pulling away until he’s trembling under me, laughing breathlessly as he pulls me up into his arms.
I wish I could laugh so easily, but the words I wish I could say are choking my throat, cutting off all thoughts.
Stay. hold me. Be with me.
I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat under my ear as I remember pressing my face to my mother’s chest and hearing nothing but silence.
I wish…
In the aftermath, as we lie tangled together under the star-filled sky, I wish everything were different.
I wish my parents were alive. I wish we’d met in a claiming ceremony rather than a prison.
I wish I could tell him how he makes me feel, what this means, how grateful I am that he stayed, that he chose me.
But the words are still trapped, caught behind years of grief and self-preservation.
“Fuck, Lithia,” he murmurs, voice wrecked, still catching his breath. “What are you doing to me?”
I bury my face in his chest, heart pounding so hard it hurts. Don’t leave. Stay. Please stay.
So I press closer to him instead, letting my body say what my voice can’t. You matter. This matters. I’m terrified of losing you.
“We should head back,” I whisper eventually, though I don’t want to move.
“We should,” he agrees, but neither of us makes any effort to leave.
Finally, the cool night air and the approaching dawn force us to dress. We shift, our run back through the forest to our clothes is filled with less urgency. It’s a slow lope, and though Kier tries to nuzzle me into play, I flick my ears back, letting him know I’m tired and not in the mood.
Tonight is ending.
As I pull my clothes back on, I feel the familiar walls start to rebuild themselves, brick by brick. The vulnerability of moments ago feels overwhelming and dangerous.
What did I do?
The walk back is quiet, but I can feel myself retreating with each step. By the time we reach the sleeping quarters, the space between us feels huge.
“Kier?” I pause at my door, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Mm?”
“Tonight… this doesn’t change anything. I still don’t see—”
“I know.” He steps closer, and I have to fight the urge to step back. “Lithia.” His voice is gentle but firm, cutting through my spiraling retreat. “What’s wrong?”
I look down, recognizing the pattern even as I’m trapped in it. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This. Whatever this is. I don’t know how to… stay close to someone without panicking.”
He touches the scar at my temple, studying my face. “What if I told you I don’t know how to do it either?”
“You seem to be managing fine.”
“Do I?” He lets out a quiet laugh. “I spent three years talking to people who weren’t there. I’m not exactly the poster child for healthy relationships.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”
“Disasters attract, apparently.” His thumb traces along my cheekbone. He grins—that crooked, self-deprecating smile that always catches me off guard. “Can I admit something?”
I nod.
“I’m terrified. Tomorrow I’m walking back into hell.
I could really use the Shadowmist Beta to wrap herself around me tonight and keep me safe.
” The vulnerability in his admission, disguised as a joke, breaks through my defenses more effectively than any argument could have.
He’s asking for comfort, making it about his need instead of mine, giving me permission to care for him instead of having to admit I need care myself.
“You need me to be the big spoon?” I ask, forcing a lightness into my tone.
He nods. “I definitely do.”
I reach for the doorknob behind me. “Then I guess I better stay.”