Chapter 18
Cyrus
I can’t stop thinking about what Tori said in the meeting a few days ago.
Something about the suggestion of using our relationship to antagonize King, and her reaction when we rejected the idea, has been bothering me.
It’s not one single thing I can point to, it’s the way it all sits in my chest, heavy and unresolved, a question I’m afraid to ask because I might not like the answer.
Ever since then, she’s been acting differently toward us.
Not dramatically so, but in the quiet ways that matter more.
The pauses before she speaks. The way her smile doesn’t always quite reach her eyes.
The way she sometimes looks like she’s bracing herself, even when nothing’s wrong.
I don’t think I’m imagining it. I’ve replayed our conversations over and over, trying to convince myself I’m reading too much into things, but my instincts won’t let it go.
I can’t shake the worry that Tori might not feel the same way about us as we feel about her.
The thought curls in my gut, tight and uncomfortable, a slow-burn anxiety that refuses to fade.
I wonder if to her, this is just a bit of fun, a way to get back at her father.
That maybe we’re a rebellion, a distraction, a temporary escape from a life she’s desperate to push against. I hope I’m wrong because it will hurt like hell if I’m right.
Because I’m in love with her.
I know that now. The realization didn’t come all at once, it settled in quietly, like something that had always been there waiting for me to notice.
I’ve fallen for Tori. I love her, and I need to know if she loves me too, but I’m scared to ask.
I’m afraid of getting hurt. The fear sits sharp in my chest, stabbing me.
I’m afraid of getting hurt, of opening myself up only to find myself vulnerable and exposed with no one to pick up the pieces if she doesn’t catch my heart and it shatters on the floor.
I also worry that Tori might believe we’re with her for the wrong reasons.
I hate to think that she might assume we’re only with her to piss off her father, that we’d use her like that.
The idea makes my stomach twist. She deserves better than that.
She deserves honesty, safety, and love that isn’t conditional or strategic.
But I don’t think she believes that. I think she would expect us to use her.
Her whole life she’s only been seen as a commodity or a nuisance, of course she’d expect that the only possible way we would want her is to gain something from it.
I know that Tori wouldn’t expect us to love her for her.
And that breaks my heart. It makes me want to throw caution to the wind and ride over to the Raging Bulls clubhouse and burn it down for them making her think she’s nothing.
Today I’m in the clubhouse with Tori, sorting through stacks of paperwork and old invoices, searching for anything we could use against the Raging Bulls.
Over the years we’ve gathered as much as we could on our enemies.
The air is warm and stale despite the fan rattling uselessly in the corner.
Sunlight filters in through the grimy window, casting soft bands of light across the floor where we’re sitting amid a chaotic spread of folders and documents.
She’s quiet, absorbed in her work as she stares at the paperwork spread out in front of us on the floor.
She furrows her brow in concentration, the tip of her pen in her mouth as she thinks.
It’s such a small, intimate habit, one I’ve noticed before, and it makes my chest ache in that way that comes from loving someone too much.
She looks up, eyes widening as she notices me staring at her. “What? Do I have ink on my lip?” she asks, inspecting the pen for leaks.
“You’re beautiful.” The words slip out naturally. They’re not what I planned to say, but they come out anyway.
She blushes, color blooming across her cheeks and down her neck.
She crawls over toward me on her hands and knees, a sight that makes my cock twitch as her round ass sways side to side, her cleavage on display.
She kisses me, a sweet, lingering kiss. She tastes like cherry lip balm, the faint sweetness grounding me in the moment, reminding me that this—she—is real.
“You’re sweet,” she breathes. She must sense my inner turmoil, the thoughts plain as day across my face, as she asks, “Is something wrong?”
“You know I’m not with you because of who your father is?
We didn’t seduce you as some grand plan to get at King.
I don’t give a fuck who he is. It’s you, I care about.
We’re with you because we want to be. After all, we have feelings for you, no other reason.
” My voice is steadier than I feel. I want to add that I’m with her because I love her, but something holds me back.
Tori blinks, surprised. She wasn’t expecting this. “I know,” she says quietly.
“Do you know what the worst part about the Bella situation was? It wasn’t the jealousy or the arguments.
It was that she used us. She used us to get what she wanted, to feel better about herself.
The betrayal of being used, of her making us believe she loved us when really she only cared about herself, that was the hardest thing to come to terms with.
I would never, ever use you, Tori. I know how much it hurts to have your trust abused like that. ”
The confession leaves me raw, exposed in a way I don’t often allow. I take her hands in mine, kissing the tips of her fingers. “I need you to know that you’re safe here. You’re loved, and we won’t use you like your father did,” I assure her.
Tears pool in her eyes, glistening in the light, and I brush one away, gently stroking her face, committing to memory the softness of her skin. “Cyrus,” she breathes, tilting her head into my hand, leaning into my touch, like it’s something she’s yearned for, for too long.
I feel so overwhelmed that I can’t hold it back any longer. I have to tell her how I feel. The words feel inevitable now, rising up out of my throat, creating a lump so I feel like I can’t breathe, until there’s no space left to keep them in or I’ll suffocate.
“I love you, Tori.”
She looks surprised, and for a horrible moment that seems to last an eternity, she doesn’t respond.
My heart stutters, fear crashing through me in a cold wave.
I worry I’ve blown it, that I spoke too soon, that I misread everything, that my biggest fear was true and she’s only with us for some fun and vengeance.
But then she says the words I’ve been longing to hear that make my heart soar and banish all of my fears about her motives.
“I love you, too, Cyrus.”
Relief hits me so hard it’s almost dizzying.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her passionately.
The kiss deepens, becoming frenzied and desperate, aching to lose ourselves in each other.
I slide the papers out of the way, pulling her onto my lap to straddle me.
I kiss down her neck, burying my face in her cleavage.
My cock strains against my pants, hard and ready for her.
“Cyrus,” she moans as I stroke her clit through her cotton panties, feeling the damp patch that’s already formed there.
I’m glad that she’s wearing a dress today.
We’re too eager, too hungry for each other to take things slowly.
Tori slips her hand inside my pants, stroking my erection.
She pulls it free, easing my pants down low enough to gain access.
Pushing her panties aside, she positions my cock at her entrance, soaking wet and ready for me, and sits down on me, taking me inch by inch.
“Fuck,” I grunt as she sits down on me completely, feeling how tight and wet she is for me.
I kiss her again while she grinds on me, rolling her hips in small circles.
I stroke her clit, enjoying the sight of her taking control, of her fucking me.
She throws her head back and moans, pushing me to lie down, placing her hands on my chest. I grip onto her hips and ass, helping her to fuck me harder and faster.
She feels so fucking good, I know I’m not going to last long.
“Fuck, Cyrus, I’m close,” she moans, teasing her own nipples.
“Holy shit, babe, me too,” I growl, bouncing her up and down on my cock now, feeling the climax building inside of me as her pussy tightens around my dick.
“Cum with me,” she pants, as I feel her reaching her climax, getting slicker and tighter as the first waves of her orgasm ripple through her.
I pull her close, kissing her deeply, our tongues intertwining as I cum hard, pumping deep inside her while she orgasms on my cock. We stay interlocked, two halves of a whole, for a moment, enjoying the post orgasm bliss as one.
The world feels hushed afterward, like everything else has fallen away. I tenderly kiss her, and she kisses me back, tears of joy on her cheeks, her forehead resting against mine as our breathing slowly steadies.
“I love you, Tori. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how amazing you are and treating you the way you deserve, the way you should have been treated your whole life.”
Her tears flow freely now as I pull her close into an embrace, holding her like something precious, something I refuse to let go of. I kiss the tears away, one by one, each kiss a quiet promise.
“I love you too,” she says. I know I’ll never tire of hearing her say it.