Chapter 9
Usher me away
JUDE
I want to shake my head.
I want to scream that I’m not doing anything he says.
I want to stay rooted to the same spot I’ve been chained to all day.
And none of these things happen. Not one.
Instead, my legs push my body up and I rise, stumbling a little as my aching muscles struggle to keep pace with Lorien.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard, and the only answer I can think of is that I am, but not for food. Heat spreads up my neck and it has nothing to do with the collar he forced onto me.
I’m floundering.
No, I’m flustered.
He’s staring at me with those golden eyes, watching every muscle and every movement I make. Lorien’s staring at me the way a tiger stares at a deer before it pounces, and I’m making this far too easy for him.
“Come,” he says, walking to the couch.
He sits, reclining and completely at ease. He’s in his element, completely comfortable and utterly unphased. His eyes still stalk mine, still track me as I hesitate. As my heart races and pounds against my chest and my breathing turns ragged.
I’m not sure I want this. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
But I don’t want the alternative.
I don’t want an evening without him, and I don’t want to leave things unknown.
I’ve spent the entire afternoon with his words echoing around my head, and I can’t escape the thought he’s right.
I’ve spent my life worried about appearances, keeping up a pretense, and being too afraid to even consider trying anything that might have challenged my perception of myself.
So I sit.
Awkwardly. Slowly. As far away from him as possible.
But it’s willing and done without force.
And we both know it’s a change in the current that’s been running between us.
“I don’t bite,” he says, a dark and menacing chuckle escaping from his lips.
“I’m quite sure you do.”
Lorien’s eyes widen, and he freezes. My heart stops beating, forgetting how to function, and then he throws his head back and laughs.
I snatch air and watch him as the sound rolls out of him, deep and rich, filling the space between us.
It’s a dangerous laugh, but it’s not cruel.
It’s the kind of laugh that coils around my chest and squeezes, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.
When his gaze snaps back to mine, the laughter is gone, replaced by an even more intense darkness. My skin prickles under the weight of it, and I’m sure he sees right through me. I’m sure he sees every thought, every fear, every flicker of want I refuse to admit is there.
“Come closer,” he says, his voice soft, almost coaxing, but with a thread of command that leaves no room for refusal.
I don’t move at first.
My instincts are at war, one part of me screaming to run, to fight, to resist, while the other leans into the pull of his voice, the gravity he exerts over me. My breath catches, and I hate how easily he does this, how he bends me without even trying.
“Jude,” he murmurs, his voice laced with amusement and a far more dangerous tone. “I don’t like to repeat myself.”
My body betrays me before my mind can catch up. Slowly, hesitantly, I shift closer. The space between us shrinks, and with every inch, my heart beats harder, my nerves sparking like live wires.
“Good,” he says, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Now, tell me. Is this so difficult?”
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.
My voice has abandoned me, leaving me stranded in the silence.
His smirk deepens, and he leans forward slightly, close enough that he heats my body, close enough that the scent of him—smoke and sea and something uniquely Lorien—wraps around me and tightens its hold.
He doesn’t speak.
He doesn’t need to.
He doesn’t have to ask me to kiss him.
He just has to stare at me and be this close and let the silence between us say everything that words could never say.
My mind screams at me to say no, to push him away, to do anything but obey. But I can’t. I don’t want to. He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s daring me to take what I want, and it makes resistance impossible.
I lean in, and my head knows it’s lost. My breath hitches as the distance between us disappears and I give in.
I stop fighting. Him. This. Me.
Our lips meet, and the world tilts. It’s not gentle, not tentative.
The moment our mouths touch, there’s a spark, a jolt that shoots through me and sets my nerves on fire.
His hand comes up to grip the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss until it’s all-consuming, until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.
And God, I feel everything.
When he finally pulls back, I’m gasping for air, my chest heaving, my mind reeling. He looks at me, his golden eyes blazing with triumph and something I can’t quite name.
“See?” he says, his voice a low purr that makes my stomach flip. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because for the first time in my life, I don’t know who I am anymore.
All I know is this, and I want to know more.
The hand at the back of my head gives the slightest push forward and it’s all the invitation I need. I drop my head, kissing him harder than I’ve kissed anyone before. With a desperation I didn’t know I had.
It’s messy, unpracticed, but I don’t care. All the tension, all the confusion, all the anger I’ve been holding onto pours into the kiss, and Lorien drinks it in like it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for.
His fingers tangle in my hair, tightening just enough to make me gasp against his lips.
He uses the sound to his advantage, deepening the kiss further, his control undeniable, and yet he doesn’t lead.
He doesn’t want to, and he wants me to explore this.
To surrender to this. To know that I did this, and this was my choice.
I don’t know how to navigate the wildfire spreading between us, but I know it’s consuming me.
His hand snakes around my back and he hauls me forward, lifting me onto his lap in one easy move.
My legs part, sitting astride him and he rocks his hips upward while that hand in the small of my back holds me in place.
Lorien’s already hard and his erection is rubbing against me, and I’m struggling to stop myself from moving with him.
My cock is throbbing, and it’s so damn hard it hurts.
I’ve never been so aroused so quickly, and I don’t care.
And I don’t want to wait and yet I’m too unsure to move forward.
My hands hover awkwardly at my sides, but they don’t want to stay there. They land on his chest and I press my palm flat against the heat of him. His heart beats steady and unyielding beneath my touch, a stark contrast to the chaos roaring in my veins.
They move. Erratically. Without rhyme or reason, exploring his body as every second brings a new sensation. I’m growing frantic, spiraling out of control as my hands move further down his body. His muscles ripple beneath me and the low, approving growl he lets out shatters my resistance.
I should stop.
I should pull away and remind myself of who I was before him.
But I can’t remember who that person was. All I can think about is this—his lips, his hands, his presence swallowing me whole.
My fingers fumble with his trousers, and his hands grab my wrists in an instant. He breaks our kiss and pulls back slightly, just enough to look at me, and his gaze is molten. He runs his nose along mine, the motion maddeningly tender, and I’m struck by how someone so dangerous can feel so right.
I swallow hard, my breath ragged as I try to find my footing, but he doesn’t give me a chance. His hand slides down my arm, and he leans in again, his lips ghosting over mine in a whisper of a kiss that leaves me trembling.
“Now,” he murmurs, his voice a dark caress. “Say it, Jude. Say you want this.”
My throat tightens, the words sticking like thorns. But the truth is already written in the way my body responds to him, in the way I can’t seem to pull away.
“I…” My voice cracks, but I force myself to continue, to push past the fear and the doubt. “I want this.”
His smile is sharp, vicious, and utterly satisfied.
There’s nothing soft about the hunger in his eyes.
“Good,” he says again, his hand returning to my collar, his touch firm and possessive. “Because this is only the beginning.”
I whimper and he nips my jawline.
Lorien’s hand dives into my trousers and grabs my cock, without hesitation or pause.
I groan as his touch is a blessing and a curse, a relief and a searing burn that makes me ache for anything more all at once.
He strokes my shaft as he pulls it free and practically purrs when he pulls my erection out.
“You know what to do,” he says, nibbling my earlobe and driving me wild.
My hands move quickly, still shaking, still fumbling. A pulse of adrenaline stings as it pours through my stomach as I wrestle with the ties that keep his cock concealed, and when I finally undo them, I pull the fabric to one side.
I stare at his cock, unsure why I expected it to change from yesterday.
It’s still intimidating.
Still hard and thick, still something I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Still, something I've barely touched.
Lorien laughs low and wraps his hand around his shaft, moving his hand up and down at an agonizing pace.
It’s got to be for him. It’s killing me to watch him tease himself, and I’m damn sure he knows it.
Worse, it’s making me want to play with myself, and I don’t know where that will lead.
I don’t know if he’ll permit it, or if it’s a step too far in this world with rules that I don’t understand.
The agony is destroying me, and yet I cannot look away.
My dick’s weeping precum and I daren’t move, terrified I’ll break this moment. Terrified I’ll destroy the magic with one wrong move.
Lorien leans back a little, and his pace quickens.