Chapter 5
You can’t eat that! I don’t think anyway.
Amo
My mind is racing after spending the night severing the heads of walking corpses and perfecting my aim on moving targets.
Not that it’s an uncommon occurrence for either to happen, but right now my head is winning the competition for whatever race it thinks we’re in.
It’s still dark, though the dawn has just begun to break, the sun’s light barely fighting off the cloud coverage as it squeezes between the many leaves and branches.
Not that it can be seen through the thick canopy covering most of the sky from my vantage point.
Huffing, I roll over and try not to think about the last time Wilson cleaned his bedding as I pull the thin blanket to my chin.
It’s still not enough to kill the chill skittering over my damp skin with its icy fingers.
I knew washing off in the waterfall was a bad idea.
I also try not to think about the number of bodies slain at the base of this tiny tree fortress, dismembered and rotting away in their new tomb. Though, I’m assuming Wilson and Moros will move them once he returns since they weren’t piled up when we got here.
I’ve never seen so many at once.
If this is what Wilson has to put up with each night, I can see why he’d need reprieve from the solitude and the fighting.
But … does he eat the bodies like the commoners suggest back home?
“Why are the birds screaming?” I mutter to the water-stained wall, half convinced that Moros is going to ignore me, and I am in no way surprised that he sighs heavily.
“Go to sleep.”
“But why are they screaming?”
He growls, the creak of his boots signaling that he’s crossed them from his lounged back position in the chair. “It’s how they sound out here. Now sleep.”
That does not answer my question at all.
I’d normally agree and let it go, but the squawking that bleeds through the open porch is loud. Almost loud enough to hurt my ears, but nowhere close enough to drown out my thoughts.
“How am I supposed to sleep with that?”
“If you’re going to be Guard, you’ll need to sleep when you can. Figure it out.”
I flop to my back and yank on the covers. “But it’s freezing up here, Moros. My hair is still fucking wet.”
The sound he lets loose resembles that of the attack canines kept separate from the rest of the pack back home and makes the hair on the back of my neck raise.
I don’t get a chance to say anything else because he’s—
Oh, shit, he’s laying down next to me.
Biting my lip hard and trying my best to keep my eyes from flinging wide, I scoot over just enough for his massive body to settle in next to me.
Oh, fuck. Oh, shit.
Wait a minute.
Why is my first response to hope that this fucker is gonna cuddle me and not be worried he’ll kill me?
Maybe I’m not cut out for this.
“Now shut the fuck up or I’m gonna warm my fingers in your mouth.”
A shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature racks down my spine.
Warm? Fingers? In where?
“Ow. What’re you—” Moros pushes me to my side unceremoniously and drapes a heavy arm over my ribs. He’s rough with me, but heat floods my back, my ass, though I’m not going to focus on that part, and the air around us shifts. Heats.
Stills.
For a moment, even the birds seem quieter, and the adrenaline stored in my body begins to fade. It’s almost … peaceful.
“I get why—”
He wasn’t kidding.
Thick digits shove their way between my lips and though I should gag at their presence along my tongue, I don’t. Not even close.
The down-low tingles I felt earlier come back with a vengeance and my eyes slide closed.
I am so, so, so glad he can’t see my face right now.
Pretty sure I’ve gone completely red-faced, my closed eyes attempting to look behind me and possibly through my skull where his shoulder rests, and holy fuck.
I’ve never gotten so hard, so fast in my life.
Mumbling a curse around his fingers just sounds like a fucking moan that has more embarrassment flooding me with warmth. Too much of it. I’m starting to sweat, my lower stomach clenched almost painfully.
“Shh, kitten,” he whispers hotly along my ear and curls around me. From head to heel, I feel him. His legs bending into the backs of mine, his groin meeting my crack.
I fist the blanket to keep from reaching out.
My mouth fills with saliva I refuse to swallow, trails of it leaking down my cheek.
“One more sexy fucking sound and I’m warming my fingers in your ass.”
Ohhhh, shit.
I don’t know what alternate universe I have found myself in, but yes please—
Wait, no.
I don’t want that. I mean, I do! But not like this. Not while on watch. With my trainer. In a fucking treehouse while we wait for Wilson to come back.
Could be any minute!
After waiting so long, I just thought my first time would be … romantic. In a bed. With someone I cared deeply about.
That there’d be like candles or something.
It’s not that I need those things, clearly proven by the growth in my pants, but I’ve dreamt of them. Of having what so few can manage in a world like ours.
Maybe that’s the apocalypse part everyone talks about.
A wave of relief and disappointment rolls over me when his fingers retreat, sliding along my tongue.
The whine that escapes me catches me off guard. And him, too, judging by the sharp inhale, though I don’t think it’s for the same reason he thinks.
I’m horny, sure.
I’d go down on him like I used to for my ex ‘friend’ that wanted me to practice on him.
He turned out to be an asshole I don’t talk to anymore.
But it’s more about the loss. The likelihood that those romantic things will never happen.
It’s not like gay boys get to live happily ever after. I don’t think anyone does anymore. We’re all just … surviving. Always adapting. Never living.
And while the elders don’t say it outright, I see the sneers aimed at Moros’s back when he’s not looking.
They use him for his cunning ability to lead, to fight, but because he’ll never procreate, they’ll never truly value him.
Not like they do the younger members like Cassia and me, and their misplaced pairing of us.
Imagine what they’d think of me, of her, if they knew the truth.
“Oh, kitten. I can’t keep threatening you and not holding up my end.”
He slides those digits back between my lips, deep enough that I have to fight the reflex to gag around him.
Repeating the motion, his fingers slipping in and out of my mouth, I find it hypnotic. Soothing. That horniness I mentioned? Yeah, it’s only getting worse.
Maybe just … letting go would be best.
No more dreams. No more waiting.
Tentatively, I swallow. Sucking lightly around him and he groans long and low.
His length punches forward, ramming right into my ass.
My eyes float back and a gasp I can’t help escapes me, taking all those romantic wishes with it.
“Mm, fuck,” he murmurs into my ear, sending swirls of something far more potent than I’ve ever felt cascading through my lower stomach. “You do want it, don’t you.”
I shake my head, though my length screams at me for it.
The responding deep chuckle crawls beneath my skin, finding that too-tight place in my gut and toys with it. Takes hold of it. Turns it upside down and inside out until there’s nothing left that I recognize.
“Mm-mm,” I garble in a protest I don’t feel with my mouth full, saliva pooling against my cheek.
“Just don’t know when to give in, do you?” He adds a third finger to my mouth, stretching my lips and testing my throat. “Lucky for you, I like a good fight.”
His length presses into me harder, his hips rutting against me like he can’t help himself now that he’s found my crack to settle into, it’s all so much.
“C’mon, kitten. Hike your leg up. Spread open for me.”
I take a long, long moment to resist his request. I really do. I even whine against his intrusion of my mouth.
But it’s like he’s worked his way into my brain and taken over the controls and I’ve stopped fighting back as I lift the limb.
“Mmm,” he growls. “He does listen.”
Feeling him even more now, with only thin cloth separating us, another keening noise makes its way up my throat.
“M-Moros,” I say on a soft breath once my mouth is empty and missing him.
I should tell him I’ve never done this before. That I have no idea what I’m doing. No clue where to put my hands.
Should I be—
Attempting to roll over, to look over my shoulder and ask him, earns me a palm to my cheek that presses me back into the pillow.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh, kitten.”
Wetness trails down my lower back as he slips his other hand beneath my pants.
Oh, shit, is this really happening?
The tease of his fingertips down my crack makes me hiss, my muscles locking up on instinct.
“Are you gonna—oh, shit. Yep. There it is.”
His warm touch finds my hole and circles; the pressure he adds like an unbearable force I have no willpower to stop.
I should.
But I can’t.
Do I even want to?
What if this is my only chance?
The opportunity to back out disintegrates along with my decorum as Moros’s slicked finger pops past the first tight ring and he growls. A sound so animal-like and dangerous that I fight against his grip on my face to look at him through his fingers.
“You’re so fucking tight, kitten.”
Thrusting the digit deeper, I barely catch sight of him sinking his teeth into his lip through the digits that hold me captive, and my lower stomach ignites.
He says it like it’s a good thing and it’s all anyone who’s ever had sex can talk about when they regale their tales. So, I don’t bother fighting the flipping of my stomach when he leans in close enough to run the tip of his tongue along my ear.
The gaze I was attempting to hold rolls back, and that’s when it hits me.
He’s inside me.
Moros’s finger is literally inside me.
Oh, fucking shit.
Does this count?
His fist is resting against my cheeks, his touch wriggling around an—
“Oh fuck,” I cry out as his touch finds something inside me that lights me up and it takes everything in me not to spill a load all over Wilson’s sheets. “Moros! What is that?”
He hums, his teeth trailing down the side of my exposed neck, his touch still teasing. His breath still hot. “Your prostate.”
Stroking the spot inside me again, he sinks those teeth into my shoulder, my stomach coiling up even tighter.
Both sting—the bite and the intrusion—and it’s almost enough for me to ask him to stop. Almost.
The mix of pain with that swirling pleasure is making me breathless.
“Do it again?”
Inhuman sounds escape him as he takes back his finger and handles me. Flips me over. Rips my pants from my body and settles between my thighs.
“Get my cock out,” he demands as he pulls something from the cabinet beside us. My skin raises like chicken skin at the exposure, the damp air around us clinging to me.
“Okay, okay.” Blowing out a shaky breath, I undo his button and reach inside. “Hooooh, damn. No way that’s—It’s huge!”
He snorts while I gulp and the clink of a jar hitting the wood beside me goes unnoticed when his fingers find my hole again.
The circling feels bigger. Wider. Wetter. But I can’t seem to focus on it when I release his giant cock and find it glinting back at me.
“You’re fucking pierced?”