Chapter 48 - Kali #2
A little over three months, from the end of summer to the winter right on our heels, had overturned my life completely. As if time itself had discovered they were what I needed, the necessity to my survival, and had coaxed me to fall right into their arms.
I couldn’t deny it. It’d taken me more than two hours to fall asleep tonight because my skin had crawled from not knowing if they were okay. Or if Zion would return with another nasty gash on his stomach. Or Gedeon with another gunshot wound.
The moment I saw them tonight, I wanted to jump on them, count their pulse, check if they were okay, alive, unhurt. Only they’d restrained me before I could do any of those things.
I licked my stinging lips, and with my voice cracking, gave a second promise of my life. “I’m yours.”
Their groans in response snapped that rush of right there, right there, right there, and Gedeon released my neck right as I drowned in the ocean of nothingness, of undiluted pleasure, of sensations so intense they rattled my brain, sending tremors along my limbs and overloading my nerve endings.
Driven by a primal instinct, Gedeon slammed inside me mercilessly, rocking my body, imposing his claim on me, and his final grunt flowed in my ear as he emptied inside me, nuzzling my neck, his choked exhales a melody of crackling flames licking my skin.
Clutching my hips hard enough to bruise them, Zion bucked underneath me, thrusting erratically, and soon his head pressed into the pillow, his mouth falling open and his neck arching as spurts of his cum filled my pulsing pussy.
His sigh of contentedness lured my smile out, and panting, we collapsed into a tangled mess of limbs. Gedeon untied my arms, and the needles shooting up my nerves gradually subsided into distant tingles.
Zion brushed my sweaty strands away from my face and crashed his mouth to mine, his tongue devouring me so thoroughly I melted, mentally pleading for it to not withdraw.
His chest heaved as he retreated and propped himself on an elbow, silent for once, too focused on drawing patterns under my breasts and pretending he didn’t notice Gedeon staring at us like we were his own personal feast.
His starvation was obvious, and I was about to point it out—more like kick him in his balls for being an idiot and not doing anything about it—but he drew me close, and his lips skimmed my own before he delved deep, his tongue staking his claim, memorizing each curve of my mouth and curling my toes.
“Say you belong to us,” Gedeon murmured as he kissed my forehead.
I traced the contour of his jaw, the regrowing stubble since his morning shave poking my fingertips. “I already did.”
“Say it again.” His knuckles swept along my neck.
“When we came back, and you weren’t home, I thought that was it.
You were gone. Each second it took until I saw you sleeping safe and sound in this bed was pure torture, and not the kind Zion enjoys.
I was losing my mind thinking about what could have happened to you. ”
“I want to lock you in a cage from which you can’t escape.” Zion idly stroked between my breasts. “Don’t fly away. Don’t let me lose you.”
At this point, his insane words were nothing out of the ordinary. Casual. Unsurprising. Like the fries he’d bake for breakfast and carry to my bed on freezing mornings, so I could snuggle in my fluffy duvet for longer.
“I want a deal,” I said as seriously as you could in such a situation.
Gedeon arched an eyebrow. “A deal?”
I reached out to tug it back down. “Yes. You can have me. But I want to own you too. To command you.”
Rolling onto his side, Zion reached for the floor and emerged with his favorite knife. “I have an idea.”
I gulped. “What are you plan—”
Without warning, he took my hand and pricked my pinkie with the blade. The faint sting dulled as he sucked on the wound.
For some reason, my cheeks heated. “What was that all about?”
He offered me the handle of his knife. “I have your blood. Take mine, and you’ll have what you want. Seal the deal.”
Taking it from him, I asked, “Why blood?”
Zion shrugged, a sheen of sweat glistening on his chest and forehead. “Because it’s what makes you alive. If you have someone’s blood, they’re yours. You have their life in your grasp.”
A person’s life encompassed their mind, body, and soul, blurring and blending into one, yet no apprehension or unease swirled in my gut at the knowledge I’d promised them all three. Only peace. I couldn’t recall the last time my heart had beat in such a steady rhythm.
I sought Zion’s palm to finish the exchange, but he took my wrist and brought the knife’s tip to the middle of his chest. “Here.”
I drew a vertical line and ran my tongue over the cut welling with blood. Iron overpowered my taste buds, the liquid hot and sticky.
He cupped my cheek with the softest smile I’d ever seen and murmured, “My pretty birdie.”
Blushing, I turned to Gedeon and cocked an eyebrow in a similar fashion as he often did. “And you?”
“I don’t need blood to lay my mark,” he stated, back to his full possessive-ass self, and I rolled my eyes. But I wanted his blood too. It felt right. He tipped his head aside and tapped a major artery near his throat. “Are you going to kill me, little death?”
“Yes,” I whispered, dragging the blade down his neck and leaving a trail of red behind. I licked the nick I’d made, and it was surely my imagination, but he tasted different than Zion. “Gedeon.” I passed him the knife. “Should I fear my own death?”
He punctured my flesh above my collarbone and his tongue pricked the cut like a thorn with a poisonous tip, altering the composition of my blood.
“Not when it belongs to us.” His lips skimmed the shallow wound, and godsdamnit, his low voice made my eyelids droopy.
“But now that you finally got the fact that you are ours nailed into you, we can go.”
“No.” Not before I got my answers. “You have to tell me how you found me first.”
Reclining on the headboard, Gedeon fastened his belt buckle. “That’s what you are thinking about right now?”
“I want to know. We told no one.” I scooched closer to Zion lying on his back, his hands hooked behind his head. “So?” I verbally nudged him.
“We need to get going. If we leave now, we’ll be back in the morning. I have to check up on our teams,” he said, leaping off the bed and pulling on a dark green, fitted shirt.
A very familiar shirt.
My head whipped to Gedeon. Instead of his usual outfit consisting of black clothing, he also wore a long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants, identical to Zion’s, both full of reddish-brown splotches.
I folded my arms, the act emphasizing that I was the only one naked. “Why are you wearing Ilasall’s military uniforms?”
Gedeon threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stretched his arms above his head, his skintight shirt accentuating every rippling muscle. “We spared no time to change.” Standing up, he tugged the fabric down, hiding the tempting sliver of brown skin right above the hem of his pants.
But they hadn’t picked up fresh clothing because they’d rushed straight after me. And had figured I was the runner.
I owned the fuckers.
Damn it, smugness was a nice feeling.
Superior to their sticky cum dripping down my thighs.
“Give me a minute to wash up.” I clambered off the bed and headed for the cracked open door. Of course, Zion had to sneak into the bathroom and scare the shit out of me. But he shut me up with a hungry kiss and helped me to clean up, so, not like I could complain.
“What is that?” He stared at my wrapped-in-gauze ankles as I washed up in the sink.
I turned off the faucet and dabbed my face with a white towel. “Nothing significant.”
“Are they from the ropes?”
I returned the cloth to its hook beside the mirrored cabinet and aimed for the bedroom, the dark blue floor tiles chilly under my soles.
He blocked my path out of the bathroom, and repeated, “Are they from the ropes?”
“It’s truly nothing, Zion. I just didn’t want to get an infection, so I covered them.”
“Sit.” He pointed to the toilet.
Sighing, I plopped my butt down on the closed lid. Knowing him, he’d tie me to the bed to have a look. The man had deliberately split my skin open mere minutes ago and now seemed distraught because I’d injured myself due to him having secured the ropes too well.
Zion ran one end of a fresh towel under the faucet, wrung it out, and knelt before me. “Hold this.” He handed me the damp fabric and carefully removed the gauze dotted in scarlet from my ankles.
“See? It’s fine.” The bleeding had stopped, and from how superficial the wounds were, I guessed they’d heal in a week or two with no scarring.
“It’s not fine,” he muttered, dabbing the moist towel along the cuts and the irritated skin around them. “I tied the ropes too tightly.”
“Zion.” I gripped his shoulders and raised his head when he wouldn’t cease fussing. “They are fine. It’s not your fault. I hurt myself.”
“You shouldn’t have. I should have made sure the knots were loose enough,” he said glumly, using the dry end of the towel to soak up the moisture from the affected flesh. “They were supposed to hold you only until we left the compound.”
I cupped his neck to force him to look at me.
“Don’t blame yourself. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.
It was your instincts. And I probably could’ve gotten out some other way, but I was mad at you both and didn’t care if I got hurt.
You’re not used to being soft, and that’s okay, because I’m not used to it either.
And they’ll heal in no time, so please don’t make it a problem.
” His throat bobbed, and I pressed my forehead to his, smiling.
“But if you want to work for it, I know how you can make it up to me.”
Meeting my eyes, he frowned. “How?”
I dipped my fingers in his golden-brown hair, playing with the strands. “Make me fries for breakfast tomorrow.”
He snorted. “That’s what you want?”