Chapter 41 #2
“It was only when I got older that I realized it wouldn’t have fixed him.
That was when I started wanting a sibling for selfish reasons—so they could deflect his attention away from me.
As it got worse, though . . . Gods, I prayed every night for no one new to be born into our home.
Having someone else I couldn’t protect became my worst nightmare. ”
Celine blinks, then forces a smile. “I’m sorry, Ciprian. You lost your dad, and here I am complaining about mine.”
“Don’t apologize,” I blurt. It sounds harsh, but I hate how small her voice is. Imagining Celine, young and without protection, fearing the imagined burden of protecting someone even more helpless . . . It guts me.
“I don’t like to talk about it,” she whispers. Her wings dip until the tips drag against the thick rug.
“You don’t have to,” I assure her. “But if you ever want or need to, I’m here.”
“Rampage ramble?”
“Exactly.” I point at the bathroom, sensing her need to be alone and collect herself. “If you want to shower, I can go find us something to eat.”
Celine nods and then winces, pointing to the small backpack. “I only brought water and snacks.”
“No worries, I’ll grab you a shirt.” My heart thumps in my chest—the dumbass has no chill—but I’m stupidly excited to see Celine in my clothes.
She disappears into the bathroom, and I wait for the water to turn on before rifling through my closet, testing the softness of each T-shirt by rubbing it against my face. I’ve been crying so damn much, my skin is extra sensitive. When I find one that doesn’t irritate me, I’m thrilled.
I snort when I recognize it. Green and faded, the raised Starfall Academy logo is flaking around the edges.
I think I kept it out of spite after I was expelled.
It doesn’t take much to tear two holes in the back, and I get a petty rush of satisfaction by defiling something related to those hallowed halls.
Satisfied with the shirt, I sneak to the kitchen and make some sandwiches. Thankfully, everyone else is still gone, and I’m able to swipe half a dozen of Sarah’s chocolate chip cookies too.
I don’t usually eat in my room. Crumbs in the bed are barbaric—I’m not a baboon—but for Celine, I’m willing to make an exception.
After I close the bedroom door behind me, I find her sitting on the bed, working through the tangles in her hair with my brush.
The Starfall shirt hangs midway down her thighs.
Air catches in my throat. She smells like my soap, my shampoo, my conditioner, my fucking moisturizer too, and I can’t get enough.
Desperate for more, I suck in the first full breath I’ve managed since Dad died. Celine smells like she’s mine.
“You okay?” She lets the brush fall to her lap.
I place the food on the table. Take one step toward her. Two. Three.
Her eyes track my movements, flashing with heat.
Then we’re stealing each other’s air. All I can smell is her mixed with me. I’m suffocating in it, but I never want to stop.
Celine says my name, her fingers tracing my cheeks.
My heart thuds painfully against my ribs. “Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper, dropping my forehead against hers. She nods, and my eyes drift closed. “I think I’m a little broken.”
She strokes my hair, so softly I might be imagining it, and says, “It’s okay to be broken sometimes.”
“Can you . . . for tonight at least, can you hold me together?” My voice cracks, but I don’t get a chance to feel embarrassed because Celine’s arms tighten around me.
“Look at me, Ciprian.” My eyes flutter open to find golden runes dotting her bare arms, neck, and face. A shiver rolls through me as her magic grazes mine intimately. “I’ve got you. I swear it.”
Everything quiets inside me. Pain, regret, longing; they’re all silenced by Celine’s sincerity. Because she means it—at least for tonight, she means it—and that’s enough.
Her lips meet mine, full and a little chapped.
I shudder. She made herself messy for me . . . “I want you,” I gasp into her neck.
“You have me.” Celine pulls the faded shirt over her head, and I drink her in. Every curve, every dip. No one has ever looked this good.
I want to lick every inch of her, but her self-assurance is what’s driving me wild. I want to live inside of that confidence. Consume it. Make it mine. Forever.
“You’re overdressed, Casanell,” she purrs.
I crawl toward her on the bed, unbuttoning my shirt as I go. Starting at her ankle, I drag my nose and lips up her leg, inhaling the smell of skin drenched with me. When I reach the crease of her thigh, she grabs my hair and stops me.
“Not now,” she says. “We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”
The stubborn heat in her eyes makes me chuckle, and I give her a long lick despite the tension on my scalp. “Take that back, hot wings.” Another lick. “Time spent between your legs is never wasted. I’d happily die here.”
“You can drown yourself later,” she moans. “I want all of you.”
I freeze. She’s talking about my dick, I know that, but the choice of words hits me hard. Has anyone ever wanted all of me before? Pieces, sure, but I’ve spent a lifetime being too much. It makes me as impatient as she is.
Clumsily, I rip my pants off and toss them off the bed.
Next, I grab her and position her exactly as I want, kissing her grinning lips, then leaning back to survey my work.
Wet hair spread across my spare pillow; her legs cradle mine.
Nearly satisfied, I grab the pillow I usually sleep on and slide it under her hips. With any luck, she’ll soak it, and I can spend all night reliving this moment every time I breathe.
My fingers wrap around my length, tugging roughly as I take her in. Celine is a fantasy brought to life. I could jerk myself raw just looking at her.
“It’s big,” she whispers, dropping her fingers to touch herself.
I search her face for any signs of worry. “I won’t hurt you.”
Celine smirks. “Don’t make promises I don’t want you to keep.”
Groaning, I guide my cock to her pussy, running the head over her clit until we’re both trembling.
“Ciprian, please.” Celine reaches down, wrapping her fingers around my cock and notching it against her opening. All it will take is one thrust, and I’ll be inside her like I’ve dreamed about for months.
But no matter what she says, I refuse to hurt her.
I push in an inch and stop, rubbing her clit until her muscles relax around me.
Celine moans, tensing again as I work another inch in. She’s soaked, but it’s still a tight fit—impossibly tight. “You’re doing amazing. So good.” I stroke her thigh. “You can take a little more, can’t you?”
Celine slides her legs wider and nods.
I watch, dazed, as she hooks her heels around the edges of the bed and stretches into a full split. My cock twitches—it’s only a quarter of the way in—but Celine has locked herself open for me, anyway, trusting me with her body.
I close my eyes, try to get a grip, then rip them open. Don’t be a coward. Just because I’ve never seen anything this hot in my life doesn’t mean I’m going to shoot my load early again. I can handle this. Please fucking handle this.
I push in another inch, Celine moans.
Sweat beads on my temples.
Gently, I work her clit and rock my hips, keeping my eyes locked on her face to read each shift in her expression. I want this to be great for her. Incredible even. Something she never stops thinking about. If I don’t ruin her tonight, I’m fucked, because she’s already ruined me.
Celine’s orgasm takes us both by surprise, and I lose an inch of ground as her pussy contracts. I work her through the climax, soaking up every gasp and sigh. I’m living for this effort. I don’t care if it takes all night.
“You’re amazing,” I groan. “Feels so good.”
“More,” she whines, her head thrashing against the pillow. With her legs spread, she’s got very little control, but Celine still tries to force me deeper.
Heat boiling in my belly, I give her what she wants—harder this time, until I’m more than halfway inside her. Her voice catches on a choked moan. “Yes, that’s it! More. Fuck me, Ciprian. Please.”
All reason leaves me.
My hips snap forward, burying me balls-deep in her warm, wet heat.
She comes again, strangling my cock in the process. I refuse to slip out, holding still, stuffed all the way inside her as pleasure devours me one bite at a time.
I see stars. Then her legs are wrapping around my waist, heels digging into my lower back, lips crashing against mine. I kiss her desperately, pleasure and tension colliding inside me. “Am I hurting you?” I demand.
“Yes,” she gasps. “And it’s amazing, don’t stop.”
“Okay, I won’t. I promise.” Stroke after stroke, I drive her into the bed without mercy. The pillow slides out from under her hips. I toss it out of the way and tilt her until I have the angle I want, slipping impossibly deeper.
She screams. Her head knocks against the headboard. I slide my hand behind her, a barrier to keep her from hitting it again.
Then I fuck Celine like I want her to be as broken as I am.
Except she’s too strong for that.
She takes every stroke, her nails digging vicious half-moons into my shoulders even as her lips give me the sweetest kisses.
Exactly as she promised, Celine holds me together while I take her apart.
By the time my orgasm crashes over me, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve driven her over the edge. Our bodies are slick with sweat, her hips are bruised from my fingers, and my bed smells like the perfect combination of both of us.
Celine is here. For me. For now, that’s all that matters.
Lying on my stomach between Celine’s spread legs, with my head pillowed on her stomach, I wake when the door swings open and bangs against the wall.
“I need to know you’re okay, Ciprian. You can’t wallow alone. If we’re going to be fucking sad, we can be fucking sad together—oh fuck.”
I crane my neck in time to see Callum’s mouth drop open.
Sheena chases him into the room, hand outstretched. “Come back here,” she hisses. “I told you not to barge in.”
Celine looks at them calmly, like two lunatics didn’t just burst into the room. “Good morning,” she says, yawning.
I drag my arm up to cover her bare chest and shoot my brother a death glare. He hasn’t moved an inch.
Sheena giggles. “It’s great to officially meet you. We’re incredibly sorry about this. Callum was crazy worried about Ciprian and—”
“You’re exaggerating,” Cal mutters, shifting his weight uncomfortably as his olive-toned cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry to intrude.”
“Sheena and Callum, meet Celine,” I say proudly. “She was also crazy worried about Ciprian and flew all the way here to make sure he was okay.”
“Eww. Don’t talk about yourself in third person,” Celine says.
Sheena nods. “It’s creepy.”
I frown, not loving how they immediately ganged up on me. “This isn’t bestie behavior,” I tell Sheena. “Read the handbook.”
“My bad, I’ll get right on that.” She grabs Callum’s arm. “Since we know you’re okay now, we’ll get out of your—”
“Where’s squirt? Is he depressed?”
I groan loudly at the booming voice and brace myself for the storm that’s coming.
Sheena tries to head him off, I’ll give her that, but it’s kind of like asking a blade of grass to stop a tornado. Gideon scoops her up with one arm and keeps right on coming. “It’s okay, baby. I won’t stay long; I want to make sure he’s hanging in there.”
I look at Celine and sigh. “I’m really sorry about this.”
When Gideon spots us, he whistles loud enough to damage my eardrums.
I shoot him a glare. Celine’s going to kill me for this. I’ll never get to touch her again and—Her giggle steals the fury from my panic, and I’m so relieved she finds this funny instead of offensive that I slump against her stomach and disassociate.
If I don’t look at them, they’ll leave. Right?
“We would love to join you for breakfast,” Celine says.
Wait, what? I’ve clearly missed something. Lifting my head, I glance between them all, unsure how they’ve managed to trap me. Callum still hasn’t moved. I’m pretty sure the sight of me in bed with someone cracked his brain. Honestly, it’s insulting.
Locking eyes with Sheena, I widen mine. Gods bless her, she takes the hint and forcefully manhandles Callum from the room.
“We’ll meet you in the kitchen,” she grunts breathlessly, using her full bodyweight to shove Gideon’s big ass through the door.
“Sarah and Joshua are having breakfast with your mom.”
I nod, relieved and disappointed that I won’t get to introduce Celine to the rest of my family. When the door closes behind them, I shake my head and groan.
Celine laughs. “I’ve never seen you that scared. Also, your brother is—”
“Don’t say it,” I beg. “Please don’t say anything about how my brother, an incubus demon, is—”
“Almost as hot as you,” she teases.
I kiss her then, pressing her deep into the mattress until she gets tired of pretending to be weaker than me and pins me beneath her. I rock my hips, and Celine grins. “Hold that thought. We have to get ready for breakfast.”
I groan and sulk and argue and whine, but she refuses to take pity on me.
The only comfort available to me comes from planning my revenge on Callum and Gideon. Sheena, I’ll spare, but those two assholes are going down.