5. Damage Resistance
Chapter five
Damage Resistance
Griffin
I expected it to hurt more.
Walking into the kitchen and seeing Ronan standing next to Cami, knowing exactly where they’d been and what they’d done, should have twisted something ugly in my gut.
It didn’t.
All I saw were her swollen eyes.
There seems to be this unspoken way we all move around each other.
No one announces that they’re giving us space.
Micah mentions nicotine, Dex follows him, and Ronan goes with them without argument.
A few seconds later, it’s just Cami and me. And I know Micah did that on purpose.
Eventually, we’re going to have to put words to all of this—who needs what, where everyone fits, what happens when needs collide. But for now, somehow, we all just… move.
“What happened?” I ask quietly after Cami has taken a few bites.
“Dex called me on my bullshit.” She laughs softly. “No, honestly, he just looked at me, but something in the way he looked at me made me realize I wasn’t as okay as I thought I was.”
“About what happened in that garage?”
“Yeah,” she answers. She’s quiet for a moment and then looks up at me. “Griffin, I’m scared it’s something I’ll have to deal with way more often than I want to.” She swallows hard. “And I feel so bad for Ronan. I know Ben wasn’t his favorite sibling anyway, but still.”
My jaw tightens before I can stop it. “If Luke did something like that…” Even imagining it makes my stomach turn.
“I’d be heartbroken because it was him. Because my brother could do that to someone.
And I’d still be furious that you were the person he did it to.
” I take a breath. “So yeah. I get why Ronan’s probably fucked up about it. ”
“Exactly,” she agrees quietly before taking another bite of pasta.
My hand finds her thigh. “And you and Ronan…” My thumb moves slowly over her leg. “Everything else is okay?”
Smiling, she puts down her fork and looks at me, giving me her full attention. “It is, Griffin. He needs to talk to everyone about some things, but yeah, it’s okay. It’s good.”
She studies me for a moment. “Are you okay with it?”
I wait for the jealousy I expected earlier. Search for it, almost.
Nothing.
She’s sitting beside me. My hand is on her thigh. She talked to me before she went to him. None of that disappeared because Ronan finally stopped fighting what was already there.
The corner of my mouth lifts.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I squeeze her thigh gently. “You’re still mine, too. That’s all I need.”
Leaning in, she kisses my cheek before going back to eating her pasta.
It isn’t too long before the other guys come back in.
Cami shrieks when Dex drops his freezing hands against her neck, and my body tenses for a second before my brain catches up to the fact that she’s safe.
“You know what they say… cold hands, warm heart,” he declares.
“With hands that cold, I’m worried your heart might literally be on fire,” she contends.
Everyone laughs, and Cami’s laugh sounds more like hers this time.
We sit around and bullshit for a while, but finally we all decide it’s time to go off to bed.
Dex disappears down the hall with Micah, their voices fading toward his room.
Cami hesitates long enough to kiss me goodnight before heading back to Ronan’s room with him.
And then I’m standing there alone.
For the first time since this whole thing started, I’m the fifth wheel.
It doesn’t hurt tonight.
I’m tired. Cami’s safe. She needs whatever Ronan is giving her tonight, and I don’t begrudge either of them for that.
But I know myself well enough to know there may be a night when this does hurt.
Tonight though, I’m exhausted. I have another extra shift tomorrow, and my wife is safe in a house full of people who love her.
I can live with sleeping alone.
At least for tonight.
Cameron
The second we’re back in Ronan’s room, his attention shifts completely to me.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“I am.” And this time, I don’t have to convince myself before I say it. “I think that was actually good for me. Being with everyone. Letting myself… not be okay for a minute.”
“I think so, too,” he agrees before pulling me against him, and I let myself stay there for a few breaths before leaning back enough to meet his eyes.
“So….” I drag the word out, letting my fingers settle deliberately against his chest now that I know I’m allowed. “You want to tell me about these other plans you had?”
The small laugh he lets loose is almost evil. “I think I’ll let that be a surprise, but sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I am going to take you apart with my voice. I wasn’t joking about that.” His eyes stay locked on mine. “I’m going to teach your body what certain words mean until you react before you’ve had time to think about it.” His mouth curves. “And I can’t fucking wait.”
My thighs press together before I even realize it.
Ronan notices. Of course he fucking notices.
The satisfaction that flickers across his face makes the ache between my thighs considerably worse.
“Ronan?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice is low and seductive.
I slide my hand higher on his chest, watching his eyes track the movement.
“I might need you to fuck me again.”
“If it’s just ‘might,’ I don’t think I’m doing a good enough job,” he counters.
“I need you to fuck me again.”
One eyebrow lifts. “See? That’s much more convincing than might.”
The look in his eyes is so feral and full of sin, I’m suddenly not sure how I’m breathing.
“Think you can behave with your new touch privileges,” he asks, “or should I remove the temptation?”
I don’t even pretend to consider it. “Tie me up.”
“You telling me you can’t be a good girl, Cameron?”
Fuck me.
“I can.” I drag one finger up his chest, keeping the movement directly in his line of sight.
His body shudders under my fingertip, and I smile at the reaction.
“I’d just rather not be tempted.”
His eyes darken.
Apparently, I’ve made a tactical error.
Or an excellent decision.
He’s on me before I can decide whether my tactical error was intentional, guiding me back onto the mattress. He starts to take my shirt off, but doesn’t pull it completely off my arms—he pins them over my head.
A few efficient movements later, my arms are secured where he wants them—firm enough that testing the position gets me nowhere, but nothing pinches or pulls.
Fuck.
The man can apparently improvise bondage with laundry.
Then, he quickly pulls the rest of my clothes off.
My eyes track him as he walks away for a moment and comes back with the neckties again.
“Still green?” he asks.
“Still green,” I echo.
“You trust me?”
I hold his gaze. “You know I do.”
By the time he bends my first knee, I know exactly where this is going. I narrow my eyes at him as he wraps the first tie around my ankle.
Ronan’s smile is positively serene. “Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“You know there isn’t.”
This isn’t very different than the position I was in on that table in the basement.
He walks away for a moment again, but then he is back, and I hear the buzz of the vibrator as he turns it on.
Fuck me.
I feel the tickle of his facial hair on my thighs as his tongue parts me, and then spears me.
The man is eating me alive, but then the vibrator presses onto my clit. My hips buck, and he chuckles quietly.
“Stay still, Cami,” he orders, breath brushing across my very wet skin.
My body tries to obey before my brain catches up.
I whimper as his tongue starts exploring again. The way his lips and tongue are moving, it’s like he’s French kissing my pussy.
The vibrator on my clit, alone, is too much and not enough.
I can barely move the way he has me restrained.
I can’t anticipate what comes next.
And I don’t fucking want to.
When I come, his tongue and mouth work harder, deeper.
“Good girl.” His voice drops lower. “Again.”
I whimper.
“That’s it. Again.”
He’s relentless.
His mouth and the vibrator work together as I do come.
“Again.”
The word hits harder the third time he orders it.
Fuck.
He’s already doing it—training me.
My legs are shaking when the vibrator dies, and he finally kisses up my body.
His cock grinds against me while he kisses me deeply.
“Color?” he asks with a dark smile.
“Green,” I rasp. “Possibly dying, but green.”
He laughs softly. “Then you’re not done.”
Holy fuck.
He kisses down my body again.
This time his fingers slide into me. Three, I think.
Then, as he curls them right into that sensitive place, he sucks my swollen clit into his mouth. He sucks in a measured cadence as his fingers move in time with his mouth.
The word again leaves his mouth more times than I can count.
By the time he finally gives me a reprieve, I have no fucking idea how long we’ve been doing this.
Seconds. Hours. Possibly three fiscal quarters.
My body is trembling, my thoughts are soup, and Ronan looks entirely too pleased with himself.
“Cameron.”
Even him saying my full name like that gets a reaction out of me now.
His voice cuts through everything else, low and certain, and my eyes find his automatically.
The satisfaction on his face deepens.
Oh, fuck him—he knows.
“You’re already doing it,” I accuse breathlessly.
“Doing what, sweetheart?”
“You fucking know what.”
His smile is pure sin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a liar,” I say quietly, my eyes drifting above my head.
“Look at me.”
I look—immediately.
The asshole’s eyebrow rises as he still smiles.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” I concede.
His quiet laugh does terrible things to me, but then his expression changes. The teasing doesn’t disappear entirely; it settles beneath something heavier and more intent.
He reaches up and brushes damp hair away from my face.
“Color?”
“Green.” No hesitation. No uncertainty.
Then, without any more words or warning, he tips my hips up a little more and thrusts into me with his cock.
“Fuck,” I almost scream.
He thrusts for a minute, and then he flips me onto my knees and fucks me from behind until he comes.
After turning me back over, his eyes stay on mine for another long moment before he leans down and kisses me.
This kiss is different from the frantic ones earlier. There’s nothing tentative about it, but there’s no desperation either.
He knows he has me.
And maybe that’s what makes my entire body light up again.
Because I know I have him, too.
When he pulls away, he doesn’t immediately start something else. Instead, he reaches for the neckties bracing my legs.
I blink at him. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you your legs and hands back.”
That probably shouldn’t sound filthy, but it does.
The first tie comes loose, then the second, then the shirt, and finally my arms are free. The Ronan who just spent however long dismantling my nervous system disappears into the same careful man who checks every place the fabric held me before he does anything else.
I roll my shoulders carefully while Ronan watches me.
His expression is expectant.
And suddenly I understand.
Earlier tonight, he had to tell me not to touch him.
Then he taught me how.
Now he’s giving me the choice.
My hand rises between us slowly enough that he can follow every inch of the movement.
His eyes flick toward it, then return to mine.
I place my palm against his chest.
Nothing changes in his expression, but he exhales.
I slide my hand higher to his shoulder and then the side of his neck.
His eyes never leave mine.
When my palm finally cups his cheek, Ronan turns his face into it—just slightly, but he does.
Something inside my chest fucking aches.
“There you are,” I whisper.
His eyes darken. “Careful, Cameron.”
I smile and brush my thumb over his cheek. “What? I’m following the rules.”
“Parameters.”
A laugh escapes me. “Definitely rules.”
He kisses me before I can say anything else.
And this time, when he pulls me closer, I don’t have to fully think about where my hands belong.
I know how to touch him.
I know what his voice sounds like when he’s teasing me and what it sounds like when he expects me to listen.
I know what green means between us.
And when his mouth brushes my ear, and he quietly tells me to look at him again, I do.
Because apparently Ronan was right.
He’s already teaching my body his language.
And apparently mine is learning fast.
After he has cleaned me up again, he asks me what else I need.
“I just need you to hold me to sleep,” I answer honestly.
He smiles. “That can be arranged.”
Waking up in Ronan’s arms should feel strange.
Somehow, it doesn’t.
It feels overdue.
I’m careful as I rest my arm on his chest, my thumb moving in gentle strokes.
“Good morning,” he greets hoarsely as he wakes up.
“Morning.” I lean up on my elbow and look at him before kissing him gently. “Do you have to work?”
“I should,” he says with a smile, “but I won’t. I’ll take today.”
“Mmmmm,” I hum. “And spend the whole day in this bed with me?”
His grin is infectious. “Is that what you want, Cameron?”
“Maybe… or maybe you can take me to the basement.”
“Fuck, woman, what am I going to do with you?”
His mistake is asking like it’s rhetorical—like I don’t already have an answer.
The smile that crosses my face must be completely salacious. “Anything you want, Dungeon Daddy.”
It takes mere seconds before he flips us and kisses me deeply.