56. Bellamy
Chapter 56
Bellamy
G ideon snored quietly, the sheets kicked low around his waist, leaving little to the imagination. Part of me had known he wouldn’t want to sleep with me, at least not right away, but his rejection after dinner had still stung. He’d kissed me softly against the corner of my mouth, stroking my hair away from my face, then he’d stripped down to his underwear and climbed into bed. I’d stripped down to my own boxers and settled in beside him, restless, until the soft huff of his breathing turned into a rhythmic metronome.
I had two choices. I could crawl out of bed and take what Fletcher wanted or I could stay in bed and take what I wanted.
Or at least a piece of what I wanted.
I wanted Gideon North. I wanted Fletcher Sinclair. I wanted Luca and Daren, and I wanted all four of them at the same time, a tangle of sweaty, rough hands and clashing teeth. I was desperate for a reprieve where they could all just settle into the things they wanted. The things I now wanted, even though I felt like an interloper in the intricate pieces of their relationships.
It was a weird and unexpected thing to have developed feelings for all of them, knowing that together they made a whole I’d never really be able to make sense of. Daren with his earnest devotion, Luca with his unbridled pursuit of pleasure, Gideon with his stubborn resistance, and Fletcher with his well-deserved concessions.
Then there was me, and what did I offer any of them?
As if in answer, Gideon murmured something in his sleep and reached across the bed, strapping his arm over my waist and pulling my body against his. I knew it was an accident, or at least unintentional, but the warmth of his embrace was so welcome after the isolation of the last three days.
How had he made it so many years on his own?
Gideon made a pained noise and buried his face into the back of my neck, hips thrusting his quickly thickening cock into the cleft of my ass. I moaned, arching against him and angling my head to give him more access to my neck.
“Sin,” he rasped, voice hoarse and thick with sleep. His dick pulsed, nestled against me.
“No,” I said, using my shoulders to shift in his arms so I faced his chest. He was so much bigger than me there was no way to be face to face. I kissed his sternum and wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.
“Bell,” he corrected himself quietly, rolling me onto my back.
His weight was massive, all-consuming, and he rutted against me, thrusting his cock over the sharp angle of my hip bone until his pace stuttered.
“Come inside me,” I whispered, pleading for his touch, for contact.
I spread my legs to make room for him between my thighs, the shift repositioning his cock closer to the hottest part of my body. Gideon groaned and went still, coming awake for the first time since he’d slipped me into his arms.
“You’re not him,” he said, burying his face into the pillow.
“No,” I agreed.
“You remind me…” Gideon trailed off, kissing the side of my neck, my earlobe, my temple.
“Tell me.”
“Of him,” he said softly.
I hooked my ankles around the backs of his thighs and his whole body trembled as I opened myself for him.
“I’m not him,” I reminded, tracing my fingers over the taut muscles in Gideon’s shoulders, his back, his arms.
“Bell, I…” he trailed off.
“It’s okay,” I said, knowing what words were going to come next.
“What did you think I was about to say?” he asked.
I smiled and closed my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. His lips were still warm against my skin, his body heavy and hard on top of me.
“Any number of things, Gideon. That you can’t be with me, that you love Fletcher?—”
“I want you ,” he interrupted, slanting our mouths together and slipping his tongue past my lips.
The confession was so unexpected, I opened for him on a gasp, and Gideon was quick to take advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing me down into the bed. Digging my nails into his back, the intensity of his kiss washed over me like a tsunami, and I had no idea how I was going to survive him, survive this thing between us. Gideon was so careful and calculating, and I was here under false pretenses. If he found out…
“Gideon, I?—”
He cut me off with another kiss, stretching an arm away from me and coming back with a bottle of lube in his hand. My heart beat so hard against my ribs I worried it was going to explode.
“Do you not want me?” he asked.
He was fully awake now, also fully hard, and rocked back on his heels between my legs to coat his thick erection with a more than generous amount of lubricant.
“I do want you,” I whispered. “But?—”
“No buts.” Gideon furrowed his brow and fell back above me, bracing one arm beside my head. The other held his cock, which he dragged past my balls and toward my hole. “Unless you want me to stop.”
“I don’t.”
He pushed the tip of his cock into me first, crashing out mouths back together when I shouted in pain at the intrusion.
“Do you want me to prep you first?” he asked, biting my lower lip, sucking at it, kissing me again.
I shook my head, a cold sweat already beading against my temple. I didn’t deserve for this thing I wanted to come easily. When I snuck out later and stole from him, Gideon would find out. He would know I took him into my body and he would think it had been meant as a distraction, but that wouldn’t be the truth. I was falling in love with him, with all of them, and all of our secrets and the secrets of our fathers were going to tear all of us apart.
“What did he send you here for?” Gideon asked, sinking another inch of his erection into me. I spread my legs wider, but it wasn’t enough. He was splitting me open with every slow pump of his hips.
“Gideon.”
Another inch.
“Don’t lie to me, Bell,” he begged.
Another inch.
“Information,” I admitted.
Another inch.
“About what?” Gideon shivered, like it hurt him to stop.
“Your father.”
Another inch. He was going to tear me in half and it was the end I deserved.
“He could have asked me.”
“He loves you so much.”
Gideon seated himself fully, a trembling exhale ghosting across my cheek while his cock pulsed inside of me.
“I would have given it to him,” he whispered.
“He couldn’t ask you.”
“He never asks me anything.”
Gideon pulled out halfway and slammed back in. The force of the thrust pushed the breath out of my lungs, and he shifted above me to brace himself against the headboard.
“He’s selfish,” Gideon said, pounding back into me. “Cruel.”
With every thrust, Gideon named off another way Fletcher had faulted him, and by the time his confessions had milked an orgasm out of me, we were both covered in sweat and tears, a hundred new secrets spilled between us and a promise that Gideon was going to save us all.
The problem was…
I didn’t believe him.