Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Barret
After the short session with Dexter, I head toward the main bedroom, hoping to find Eddie and Cleo there. But of course—surprise, surprise—they’re not.
I move down the hall and push open the door to the room Eddie and I have been sharing.
There they are.
Both in bed.
Cleo curled against him like she belongs there, her cheek pressed to his chest. Eddie’s arm holds her close, fingers splayed across her back as if he’d fight anyone who dared to pull her away.
His other arm is bent up, resting above her, a cage and a comfort all at once.
He’s awake, though—watching, waiting, his dark eyes catching mine in the dim light.
“You’re here and not in the main bedroom?” I arch a brow, my tone sharper than I intend.
His lips twitch, not quite a smile. “You got a problem with that?”
I drag a hand across the back of my neck, buying time. “Nope. Just wondering if you want me to stay.”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “Why?”
I nod toward Cleo. “Because I don’t have her consent to spend the night in her bed.”
Eddie lets out a low scoff. “You want me to wake her up to ask the obvious?” He shakes his head, disbelief threading through his voice. “She’s already admitted she loves us. She doesn’t want to be apart from us again. What else do you need?”
My jaw tightens. I step closer, lowering my voice. “We promised not to assume.”
His expression hardens. “You’re becoming a pain in my ass, Hetfield.”
A slow smirk spreads across my face, the tension snapping into something else entirely. “You want some pain in your ass . . . I can make it pleasure, baby. Just say the word.”
His eyes narrow, and for a second, I swear he fights the urge to laugh. Instead, his hand tightens around Cleo, as if reminding me who he’s holding, who he’s keeping pressed against him.
“You’d talk that loud with her right here?” His voice is low, dangerous, yet laced with something that makes my pulse stutter.
I smirk and step closer to the bed. “Maybe I like testing your restraint.”
“You’re pushing it,” he mutters.
“Am I?” I crouch near the mattress, close enough to see the faint flush climbing his throat. “Because from where I’m standing, you don’t look like you hate it.”
His gaze locks on mine, the silence between us stretched taut. Cleo shifts slightly, sighing in her sleep, pressing closer into him. He strokes her back absentmindedly, but his attention never leaves me.
“You’re reckless,” he says finally, though his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile.
“And you’re pretending you don’t like it,” I shoot back.
“Hetfield . . .” The warning in his tone should cool me off. It doesn’t.
“Reznor . . .” I mimic his voice, dragging it out just to watch his jaw tighten. “You know I live for this. You’re trying so hard to play calm, but I can see it—” I tilt my head, grin widening, “—you’re tempted.”
His mouth curves, all teeth now, the challenge unmistakable. “One day you’re gonna push too far.”
I lean in, close enough that I can feel his breath fan against my lips. “Maybe that’s the point.”
His eyes darken, voice dropping into a growl sparking my pulse. “Keep it up, and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to smart off for days.”
The smirk falters for half a second, heat slamming through me. “Promises, promises . . .”
He tilts his head, his gaze flicking deliberately toward Cleo. “You want to taste her?” His tone is filthy, taunting. “She came in my mouth earlier. Come here and kiss me—see for yourself.”
My throat goes dry, the image ripping through me like fire. “You’d risk waking her?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “She might wake up.” A wicked glint sparks in his eyes. “And if she does, she’ll love watching.”
The room feels charged, like the air itself is daring me to move closer.
“You’re dangerous,” I murmur, though I’m already leaning closer, like gravity itself is pulling me toward him.
Eddie’s lips curve into something feral. “Then stop provoking me. Or I’ll shut you up the way you’ve been begging for.”
I don’t even have time to retort before his free hand shoots out, fingers tangling in my shirt, yanking me forward. The motion jostles Cleo slightly—she shifts, sighs, but doesn’t wake. My heart slams against my ribs as I brace myself on the mattress, half over them both.
“Eddie—”
His mouth crashes against mine, brutal and claiming. Heat punches through me, stealing every thought, every ounce of air. His tongue pushes past my lips like he owns me, and, fuck, maybe he does.
I groan into him, clutching his shoulder for balance. He tastes like sin, like Cleo, like everything I shouldn’t have but can’t resist.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to growl, “Taste her. I wasn’t lying.”
The words wreck me. I dive back in, lips hungry, tongue desperate, chasing that proof, that intimacy he’s taunting me with. It’s filthy and perfect, and I want more.
Cleo stirs, murmurs something incoherent, pressing deeper into Eddie’s chest. The danger spikes my pulse, makes my cock ache harder.
“She’s gonna wake up,” I rasp against his mouth.
“Let her,” he whispers, his grip tightening on me. “She’ll love watching you fall apart for me.”
His hand slides to the back of my neck, forcing me closer, deeper, until I’m kissing him like I’ll drown if I stop. My body presses against the edge of the mattress, straining toward him, aching for more.
“Eddie . . .” My voice breaks against his lips. “Fuck . . .”
“You love it.” His lips graze my ear, filthy and taunting. “You love that you’re hard for me while she’s lying here. You love that I’ll make you lose control, even if she wakes up.”
I shudder, grinding harder, breath ragged. Our cocks slide together again, trapped between heat and fabric, every thrust ratcheting me closer to the edge I swore I wouldn’t cross.
“Eddie—” My voice breaks, a plea I don’t even mean to give him.
“Say it.” He bites the corner of my jaw, grinding up with brutal precision. “Say you’re mine. Say you want me to make you come right here.”
I gasp, my forehead falling against his, teeth clenched as my body betrays me, hips jerking to meet his over and over.
“Fuck . . .” It’s all I can get out, the rest strangled by need.
Eddie angles my mouth to his again and devours me, hips rolling up until we’re perfectly lined, both of us hard and aching. The bed shifts. Cleo breathes a little deeper, a small sound against his chest. My pulse surges.
His fingers hook my collar and hold me there, mouths brushing, heat sparking whenever our lips part and find each other again.
She stirs. “Mm, what’s happening?” Her voice is drowsy and warm. Her hand flexes on his ribs.
Eddie strokes her back in slow passes, reassuring. “Baby, are you awake?”
Her lashes lift. She blinks up at him, then at me, hovering half over the mattress, flushed, breath ragged. The realization hits her fast. Her lips part, eyes darkening as she takes us in—Eddie’s mouth swollen, my hips locked against him.
Eddie keeps his voice low. “You good?” A beat. “You want to watch?”
Cleo’s gaze drifts over our bodies, then settles on my mouth. Something hungry rolls through her expression. “Yes.” Another breath. “I want to see everything.”
The permission flies through me like a current. I groan, forehead tipping to Eddie’s, and he drags me down into a kiss that tastes like victory and sin. Our cocks grind again, friction punching heat through every nerve. I bite back a moan and fail; it spills out anyway, rough and needy.
Eddie’s mouth tears from mine, his gaze locking on hers. “Then watch,” he commands, voice rough and husky. “And you’re going to help.”
Her lips part. “Help?”
His hand trails down her spine, soothing and firm all at once. “Undress him,” he orders, his gaze flicking to me. “Strip him bare so we can see every inch of what’s ours.”
Cleo sits up, the sheet slipping from her bare body.
My pulse hammers as her fingers reach for my shirt, fumbling a little at first, then bolder as she peels it up and over my head.
The air hits my skin, chilled compared to the fire burning in me.
She bites her lip, her eyes raking over my chest, then down, lower.
“You’re doing good, Princess,” Eddie praises, the sound vibrating through the room. “Now his pants. I want you to free him.”
Her hands move to my waistband, tentative at first, then sure, sliding the button free, tugging the zipper down. My breath shudders when her knuckles brush against the hardness straining beneath.
“Take them off,” Eddie growls. “Slow, so you can see how bad he wants it.”
I lift my hips, letting her drag the denim down my thighs, leaving me hard and aching in nothing but thin briefs. Her breath hitches, and Eddie smirks, pulling her closer.
“You see how much he needs it?” he murmurs against her ear, his hand sliding along her thigh. “Now show him how good that mouth of yours is.”
Her gaze flicks to mine, a silent question. My throat is dry, but I nod, unable to form words.
She sinks to her knees beside the bed, her fingers hooking in the waistband of my briefs, tugging them down until my cock springs free, thick and flushed. My groan fills the room, raw and needy.
“Cleo—”
“Shh.” Eddie’s hand tangles in my hair, forcing me to keep my eyes on her. “Let her taste you.”
Her lips part, breath ghosting hot over me before she takes me into her mouth, slow and devastating. My head falls back with a guttural sound, hips jerking before Eddie clamps a bruising grip on me, holding me still.
“Easy,” he warns. “You don’t get to fuck her throat yet. She’s in control.”
Cleo hums, the vibration shooting through me, making me curse. Her mouth works me with exquisite torment, tongue dragging along the underside, lips wrapping me in heat.
“Fuck—”
Eddie’s voice cuts through, low and commanding. “Not yet. Don’t you dare come. You spill before I say, and I’ll make you regret it.”