Chapter 3 #2
I keep my fingers moving, soft, slow, patient. For her, I have all the time in the world.
When her body sways, I worry she’s too exhausted to stand. So I tip her under the water, rinse the shampoo, then sit on the bench, pulling her into my lap as I work conditioner through her long, honey waves.
"Storm?" she says. Her voice is tiny and raw, but it's there.
"Yes, Angel?"
"Do you have any idea who killed Sarah? Who left her like that?"
"I don't, Angel. How well did you know her?"
She breathes in and holds it so long I think she won't answer. "We weren't friends. I didn't like her. The only reason she got a job here was to get close to one of you. She used to brag about 'taming' one of you and being your rich little hot wife."
I snort. "Poor girl. She didn't have a chance."
"Really?" Phoenix turns just enough to see my face. "She’s beautiful. Was beautiful."
"She was plastic," I say. "Hollow and fake. There was nothing any of us wanted from her except a warm wet hole. Even if that wasn’t true, none of us would've looked twice at her. We're all caught up on one particular pain in our ass."
A smile threatens her lips but doesn't quite break.
So I lean in and whisper in her ear, “I know what’s mine. Even if the others are too stupid to admit it.”
"I hated her for trying to take you from me," she mutters. "And I think her death is my fault. If I hadn't come here—if I hadn't signed that stupid contract…"
"The only person responsible for her death is whoever killed her," I say, rinsing the conditioner from her hair. "Don't regret signing that contract. Don't ever regret what finally let me be with you. I know I don’t."
Instead of answering me, Phoenix reaches up and winds her arms around my neck.
I know Phoenix hurts as deeply as I do. I know how much pain she feels, but not for this. She can’t suffer any more for the actions of others.
She turns fully in my arms, presses her body to mine. And then her lips are pressing against mine. I can’t help returning it, stealing her pain and claiming it as my own.
Need rolls through me, and my hands ache to not just touch, but worship. I want to drop to my knees and worship her until the last twenty-four hours blur to nothing.
Then I want to take my blade and I want to cut away the parts of her that are infected, the rotting ideas and self doubt that will consume her if they are not removed.
If only it were so easy.
Her hands grip my shoulders. Her mouth parts under mine. She lifts a long leg and hooks it over my hip, lining her wet heat against my cock. I could take her right now. God, I need to claim her, to fuck her tight little cunt until nothing else matters.
But not like this. A quick fuck in the shower won’t be enough, she is too far gone for that.
"Angel," I warn.
"Please," her voice cracks. "Make me feel something good."
This isn't supposed to be about sex, and I know it isn't. Not for her and not for me. It's deeper. More intimate. I've had sex with more women than I can count. It's never felt like this—never been this personal.
“You don’t want to feel good,” I say, giving voice to the same dark thoughts I know are plaguing her. I can see them in her eyes. “You blame yourself, and you want to be punished. Do you think my cock will give you the atonement you crave so badly?”
Those big beautiful eyes stare up at me, a single tear tracking down her cheek and getting lost in the water from the shower.
“I can punish you, angel. I can and I will drag you to hell and back so you can recover from this, but not tonight. Do not make me do this tonight.”
“Just make me forget, Storm.” Her plea is my undoing. “You can punish me later.”
I kiss her again, knowing she sees me as clearly as I see her, and neither of us flinch away from it.
“Okay, Angel.” I turn her around, draw her back to my chest. I sit on the bench and settle her in my lap, her legs straddling my thighs. I part her gently.
"Close your eyes," I whisper.
She obeys. I lower the handheld sprayer to a soft stream and run warm water over her. My free hand cups her breast, thumb grazing her nipple, following the path of the water.
She gasps but stays quiet, eyes closed like a good girl. I can just see her in profile, her lashes beaded with droplets; her mouth opened on a silent yesss…
I angle the stream lower, down her belly to the vee of her thighs. She tilts her hips, offering me access. I slide my fingers to part her and direct the water over her clit—indirect at first, then more focused.
She relaxes completely, her lips parting. This is the Phoenix only I have ever seen. The one who can let herself feel and need without judgment or fear.
Her hand sneaks back between our bodies to wrap around my cock. This is the Phoenix who will take what she wants. Her fingers explore more than stroke, and I love it.
I switch the showerhead to pulse and flick my middle finger across her clit.
"You need to know I'll always protect you. Claim you. You're mine—just as much as you're all of the Titans’. We protect what's ours."
“The others don’t want me like this,” she says. Her brows scrunch and I see that doubt and pain start to surface again. Later we will deal with that, but not yet.
First I need to chase away the demons dragging her away from me.
I tap my fingers on her clit, making her jump. “They want you however they can get you. We all do. But they need you as deeply as I do. They need to take you, claim you, mark you, and own you.”
“But—”
I tap her clit again a little harder; my girl responds to a bit of pain. “No. You belong to all of us. This perfect body was made to serve us, to be worshiped by us, only us. You are ours.”
She nods, eyes closed, chest rising in quick little pants. I want my mouth on her nipples, and soon. "Say it, Angel. I need to hear that you know."
"I am yours. And the other Titans’. You protect what's yours." Her hips move, rising and falling helplessly seeking against the pulse of water. “It’s too much…please…”
"This is not your fault," I say.
Her head shakes, and her lips press together. I angle the spray more directly. She tries to close her legs, to wriggle away from the pulsating water. I hold her open, firm and gentle. "Say it."
"It's—" Her voice breaks; she arches and thrashes.
"Say it, and I'll reward you."
"It's not my—" She pushes harder to pull away. I brace my feet, spread my thighs, keep her open for me.
"Say it." Not a request any more.
"It's not my fault. I didn't do this. It's not my fault," she cries, back bowing, breasts lifting, thighs trembling around me.
There's nothing in this world—or any other—as beautiful as Phoenix when she comes for me. Her body goes bright and then boneless as heat spills over my hands.
When she floats back down, I dial the water to a steady warmth, letting it run over her to calm her.
"Storm?"
"Yes, Angel." I kiss her shoulder, content to hold her while she comes down.
Instead, she slips from my arms and stands in front of me, gloriously naked—pale-pink skin with a new gold cast from the yacht, the long lines of her stomach, the full weight of her breasts, the graceful curves of her hips. All of her, perfection.
Even the neat thatch of pale blonde-red between her thighs makes my mouth water.
"I want to hear you say it, too," she says, nudging my knees together. Tongue darting out to lick my bottom lip, I let her move me how she wants.
"Say what?" My hands settle on her hips to steady her as she straddles my lap, hovering over my painfully hard cock.
"Tell me it's not your fault. Not the girl on the table. Not the men who attacked me.”
"I—” But it was my fault. I did that. We did that. She would have never been targeted if we didn’t need her more than the money and power we’ve been raised to crave like fiends.
"It's not your fault," she says, reaching between us to wrap her hand around me, stealing my thoughts. "Say it for me. Tell me you know you were protecting me. They would've killed me. You saved me."
"I—” She watches me with those fierce eyes, and I can't make the words come. I won't lie to her, not even with her hand moving up and down on my cock, making me ache in the best way.
"Say it," she demands, fisting my hair with her free hand and then lifting herself, positioning the head of my cock at her slick entrance, ready to sink down. Her breasts hover in front of my mouth. I only have to lean forward an inch to taste clean, wet skin.
Sun and citrus and Phoenix.
"Say it, Storm. Tell me you know you did the right thing. You kept me safe. I'd be dead if not for you. The Titans would be hurt or worse. Tell me you know this. Tell me you know how much I need you.”
I'm notched at her opening, my lips a breath from her nipple, and she wants me to lie.
"I—”
Whatever I was going to say dies when someone pounds on the bathroom door.
"I'm going to kill whoever's interrupting us," I finish.
Phoenix growls in agreement deep in her throat.
"Fuck off!" I shout, but she pulls away, anyway.
The moment is lost, but only for now.
"Sorry, man," Maverick says as he cracks the door, letting a cool stream of air in. His gaze roams over Phoenix with hungry interest. “The parents called. Family meeting. All of us. Conrad says to bring Phoenix."
Fuck. My. Life.