Chapter 13 #3
I laughed again, and she gave up on the photos, locked her phone, and set it on the armrest. For a while we just sat there, drinking our tea in the quiet, the fire ticking softly, the fog pressing against the windows.
She finished her tea first, set the mug on the coffee table, and stretched, arms over her head, back arching. The pajama top rode up, and I caught a flash of pale skin at her waist before I made myself look at the ceiling.
“Bed,” she said, standing. “Before I fall asleep right here.”
I stood too, gathering both mugs and carrying them to the sink. By the time I’d rinsed them, she was already at the foot of the stairs, Noodle heading up already by himself. She looked back at me over her shoulder, hair falling in a dark curtain, and smiled.
“Thanks for coming out. Even though you’re a buzzkill.”
“Any time, love.”
She started up the stairs, and I followed.
The steps were narrow and worn smooth in the middle, and the old stone walls pressed close on either side.
The tower was quiet except for the creak of the stairs under our weight and the distant sound of someone, Phoenix, probably, snoring through the floor.
Jupiter climbed slowly, one hand on the rail, and I climbed behind her, close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo, close enough to see the way her pajama pants clung to the curve of her—
I stopped that thought before it went anywhere useful.
We were passing my door when something in me snapped. I caught her wrist and pulled her back against the wall. The stone was cold through my hoodie. She made a small sound of surprise, and I covered it with my mouth.
I kissed her hard, my hand finding the wall beside her head, and the other sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She made a noise into my mouth. Not a protest, but something that went straight through me to my throbbing cock.
I kissed her again, deeper, tongue sliding against hers, and she kissed me back like she’d been waiting for it too. Her body arched into mine, and I could feel every curve of her through the thin pajama fabric, the heat of her stomach against mine, the press of her breasts against my chest.
I pulled back just enough to breathe. Her lips were swollen, her eyes half-lidded and dark, and the sight of her like that nearly undid me.
“Walls,” I said roughly. “Put your walls up. Now.”
She blinked, and I watched her focus, watched the silver in her eyes brighten and then dim as she pulled the mental barriers into place. I felt the bond go muffled, felt the distant hum of the other eight fade to a whisper behind reinforced glass. Good. Whatever happened next was ours.
I kissed her again, slower this time, and she opened for me without hesitation, her tongue meeting mine, her body melting against me.
My hand slid from her waist to her hip, fingers digging in, and I lifted her.
She wrapped her legs around me on instinct, ankles locking at my back, and I pressed her harder against the wall.
“Lucas—”
“Shh.” I pressed my palm over her mouth, playful but firm, and her eyes went wide above my fingers. “Be very, very quiet, love. There are eight men sleeping in this tower, and I’d rather not share this with any of them.”
She nodded against my hand, and I felt her smile beneath my palm.
I kissed the side of her jaw, her throat, the hollow beneath her ear, and she shivered against me, a sound muffled behind my hand that went straight to my cock.
I was already painfully hard, and when I rolled my hips against her, she bit down on the meat of my palm.
I hissed through my teeth. “Fuck—”
She did it again, and I pulled my hand from her mouth long enough to kiss her properly, and then my hand was between us, sliding under the waistband of her pajama pants.
She was already wet, slick and hot against my fingers, and the sound she made when I found her clit nearly made me come in my trousers.
I worked her with my fingers, and she rocked against my hand, her thighs trembling around my waist. Her nails dug into my shoulders through the hoodie, and I could feel her trying to be quiet, could feel the effort of it in the tension of her body, the way she bit down on her own lip hard enough to leave marks.
“Lucas, please…”
I pulled my hand free, and she whined. I fumbled with my trousers, the other arm still bracing her against the wall, and she reached between us to help, her fingers brushing mine, and then her hand was wrapping around me and the sound I made was not quiet at all.
She shushed me, and I laughed, against her throat.
“Hypocrite.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
I pulled off her pajama pants as I held her aloft. They were on the floor in a matter of seconds. I lined myself up and pushed into her in one slow stroke, and the sound she made was worth every second of waiting.
Her head fell back against the stone, mouth open, eyes closed, and I watched her throat work as she swallowed whatever noise wanted to escape. I held still for a moment, buried to the hilt, feeling her pulse around me, feeling the bond buzz behind the walls she’d built, muffled but still there.
Then I moved. I set a pace that was punishing, each thrust driving her harder against the wall, each one pulling a muffled sound from her throat that she swallowed back down.
Her legs tightened around me, heels digging into my back.
Her hands were everywhere—in my hair, on my shoulders, clawing at the back of my neck.
I kissed her to swallow the sounds she couldn’t hold back.
Somewhere above us, a floorboard creaked, and we both froze, breathing hard, my forehead pressed against hers. Nothing. Just the old building settling. I started moving again, slower this time, deeper, and she rolled her hips to meet me, and the friction was so good it made my vision blur.
“Lucas, I’m—”
“I know.” I shifted my angle, and she choked on a sound, her whole body going rigid. “Come for me. Quietly.”
I pressed my palm over her mouth just as the orgasm hit her, and I felt it everywhere—in the clench of her thighs around my waist, in the way her body seized against the stone, in the muffled cry that vibrated against my hand.
Her eyes went wide, silver blazing bright enough to cast light on the wall, and then they rolled back, her whole body shaking through it, and the sight of her coming apart like that snapped whatever was left of my control.
I came hard, my hips stuttering, my forehead dropping to her shoulder as the pleasure ripped through me like a blade.
I groaned against her skin, a curse tearing out of me that I barely recognized as my own voice, and my thighs shook so badly I nearly dropped her.
She pulsed around me, milking every last drop, and I bit down on the fabric of her pajama top to keep from making a sound that would wake the whole tower.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The only sounds were our breathing in the narrow stairwell. Her thighs were still trembling around me, her fingers slack against my shoulders, and I could feel the aftershocks moving through her in small, involuntary shivers.
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, her lips swollen and parted, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight,” I said.
She didn’t argue. Didn’t even blink. Just nodded, her head lolling against the stone, and let her legs drop from around my waist. I caught her before she could slide down the wall, one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and lifted her against my chest. She was lighter than she looked, her body boneless and warm, and she tucked her face against my neck without a word.
I carried her the three steps to my door, shouldered it open, and kicked it shut behind us. The latch clicked, and the tower went quiet again, and the only sound left was the two of us breathing in the dark.