38 #4
No one dares move, no one dares breathe so loudly.
And I think, She’s not going to stay. She’s not going to stay, and I don’t know how much more of her rejection I can take.
I don’t know how I’ll move on, and I don’t know how I’ll heal my brother.
But I wonder if I’ll have to do all of that if this keeps up.
But the thought is discarded as quickly as it came.
Because it’s impossible. She’s not someone we can move on from. And I never want to. No matter how much it hurts. She’s it for me. For us. I know it. The other men know it.
We’ll never stop trying.
But if she leaves today . . . I know it will destroy Tiger, as well as a part of me and a part of all my new brothers. And I’ll do what I always have to do: hold everyone together.
Ezla still hasn’t so much as blinked, and my heart sinks, a sombreness weighing down on us all.
She’s going to leave.
Lifting her foot, she—
Steps forwards.
Sharp inhales ring out all around, and relief crashes through me so strongly it makes my head spin.
Our Bonded moves over slowly . . . and while she does, she starts to undress:
Her gloves come off first, and she lets them fall to the floor.
Then, with a pause in her steps, her boots and socks follow, and she carefully sets them aside, slipping her armoury sticks from her back before placing them soundlessly by her shoes.
Continuing onwards, she reaches a hand over her shoulder again, this time unzipping her Avri suit and peeling it down her lithe figure, revealing more and more silky skin that has my cock pulsing in time with the beats of my heart.
The black bra beneath is made for practicality, supportive and seamless, even if the sturdiness of an Avri suit could easily allow for a naked body beneath without issue, and yet the way it hugs her breasts only has my erection demanding attention with increased aggressiveness, balls heavy and aching already.
Tate’s moan is the only sound that splits the silence as the rest of her suit comes to lie on the floor, and my eyelids droop to half-lidded as I take in the matching seamless thong she wears, my gaze raking up and down her body to take in all that smooth skin, breasts that would fit my hands perfectly, and a slim, toned form that flows all throughout her narrow shoulders to her small waist and her back, shaping her miles-long legs but flaring out slightly at the hips my hands itch to grab onto in a firm hold.
Panting breaths enter the otherwise-mute room from all of us, and at some point in the last few minutes, the hot tub has automatically gone to sleep, too, leaving no froth to obscure our view of this perfect creature before us as she slips into the spot between Alby and Tate, the former who looks a second away from passing out, and the latter whose pupils are so dilated I can hardly make out the grey of his irises.
“So, so gorgeous, my Havoc,” he says lowly, large fists balled up beneath the water as he fights not to snatch her up.
But even he knows this moment is far too precious to risk with something so forward, something that could send our woman running.
Though it’s anyone’s guess how long that will last when he’s visibly shaking with restraint.
Sensing we need to try and ease some of the tension before something goes very, very wrong, before someone pushes her too greatly and all hell breaks loose, Tiger starts yapping nonsense that I cling to like a lifeline, needing my attention diverted.
Because having all of it on Ezla feels dangerous, like I’m just as liable to snap as Tate.
I try to join in with the conversation my brother creates, as does every other Evot here.
But it’s incredibly hard to focus, and my words keep trailing off as I watch our Bonded sit in a languid way: head tipped back to the ceiling and elbows leaning against the side of the tub, fingertips skimming the motionless water inside while, below the water, her right leg crosses over her left. She’s effortlessly seductive.
Yet I can see the slight stiffness to her, the way she’s prepared for anything. Most of all, prepared to flee.
Because no matter how fearless she appears to be, I know for sure now that The Bonding Games Champion is afraid of something:
Feelings.
Especially the love and affection we want to pour all over her.
We all know that touching her could never just be lust, and since she can read us through the bond that links our minds to hers, I have no doubt she knows this. So she must also know how little willpower we collectively have right now.
I couldn’t trample my scorching desire underfoot if I tried.
Vaguely, I nod along to my brother, who’s still trying his best to give Ezla some breathing room, and I think, You know what? Maybe we can do this. Maybe we don’t need to give in to our impulses. We’re not animals—
Tate’s hand uncurls in a flash and darts out to clutch onto Ezla’s thigh firmly.
Spine snapping straight, alarm and another heavy dose of arousal strike through me like lightning.
“Tate—” Cooper hisses but cuts himself off, jaw working as his eyes flit between him and Ezla as we all take in the fact that she hasn’t shifted. Not even a little.
Tate’s hand rises higher on her thigh, and my blood becomes liquid fire in my veins, fingernails leaving imprints on my palms as I force myself to stay in place rather than lunge for my Bonded like a starved beast.
She already has one of those to deal with.
Ezla tenses a fraction as his palm drags even closer to her underwear, and he stops dead at the same time my lungs temporarily shut down.
In the weighted silence that ensues even louder than before, everyone waits for what she’ll do next, each of us fixated on her, completely consumed by her.
And then her legs uncross . . . and her thighs part.
“Fuck yes, Havoc, baby.” Tate is practically salivating as his hand wraps fully around her thigh, swallowing it whole. It makes something flare up inside me to see that, how I could tuck her away, too, wrap her in my arms and look after her.
Her appearance isn’t why I love her, despite how jaw-dropping she is, and I’d love her no matter her weight or body shape—it wouldn’t change a thing. But I can’t deny that I like the way she looks like I could just . . . take her from harm by shielding her with my body.
Even though she’s far from needing me to.
But I’ve always had this almost fanatical need to be able to care for the people I love, and when it comes to her, as bad as this might sound, the only thing I have a true advantage with is being bigger and heavier; I’d have a much better chance of pinning her smaller form down if she ever tried to go off and do something suicidal, for example.
Not that she’s that kind of person, and I have full confidence in her and an unfaltering admiration for her, but .
. . it’s really just a nice thought for me to have as part of a failsafe in the worst possible scenario.
Ezla keeps her face tilted to the ceiling, her feelings locked up securely, but that doesn’t deter Tate, and my focus sears into where his hand finally closes the distance between it and her clothed pussy, firmly cupping her.
Alby whimpers, his glazed hazel eyes a tad frenzied as they track everything just like mine do, and from the corner of my eye, I notice Tiger taking himself out of his briefs, as unabashed here as he is with everything else, but I pay no mind to that—it doesn’t bother me.
And maybe that’s because we’ve been prepared for the possibility of sharing a woman since the moment we learned about bonding, so it was kind of a given something like this might happen, and we’ve both come to terms with that .
. . even if we didn’t account for the fact three other men might also be involved with her.
All this is definitely easier for me to handle because of everything me and my brother have talked through over the years.
Cooper watches, too, and although he’s the most difficult to read when he appears moody most of the time without meaning to, the embers of hunger flaring in his pupils give him away as he rubs a hand over his mouth.
Blocking out all of them easily when my focus centres entirely back on Ezla, I let out a soft huff, lips parting as Tate hooks a finger in the edge of her thong and pulls the fabric aside, revealing her perfect pink pussy beneath the crystal-clear water.
A hissed curse meets my ears from my left, water sloshing with rapid movements of my brother’s hand while Tate lets out a low, rough groan and dips his head to run his nose over Ezla’s neck, inhaling her scent.
My own nostrils flare with the need to experience that for myself, to know what my Bonded smells like now that her suit isn’t in the way to shield her essence from us, but I manage to control myself, giving this moment to Tate.
Shifting in attempt to relieve the ache in my groin, a quiet grunt slips from my mouth as his middle finger slides along her slit before finding her clit and beginning to rub slow, careful circles.
I don’t know if his pace is because he wants to be gentle, or because he’s more cautious for his first time learning how to touch a woman, but he’s doing perfectly fine either way, so I decide he doesn’t need any guidance at the moment.
Especially as I catch the minor escalation in the rise and fall of our Bonded’s chest, letting me know just how good it feels even if she does make it hard to catch any of her responses.
Her face is still impassive, battling me on my advanced observation skills, but her body can’t lie.
My eyes skate back down her figure, over her plump little breasts, across her belly button, and at last coming to glue back on those perfect folds just as Tate presses a thick finger to her entrance and sinks the digit inside avidly.
“Gods, Havoc. Your little cunt is so wet for me—for us. So tight.”