Chapter 9 #2
I huff. “You and he are the same age. And I … I didn’t know … for certain.”
“That you were mine?”
I swallow. Then I fucking press on into the bit of our shared past that I want her to know.
“You’d been at the estate for about a week before we got back.
We’d … it was our thing to meet up in the afternoons and work on school shit together.
You trained in the mornings with Disa or her mage, Ingrid. ”
“School shit …” she murmurs, gaze fixed on me.
“Yeah. I was, am, good at that school shit. I’d already passed all my equivalencies for university and was doing the first year of my first degree online. The Cataclysm wouldn’t let me go to an actual college, and I wouldn’t leave my brothers, or summers spent with you, either.”
“What about Presh? She … I guess she wouldn’t have been born yet … or she was born that year?”
I nod. “Yeah, but we didn’t meet her, or even know about her, until she showed up … with Reck … on the Outcast’s doorstep. Six or seven years later?”
“And you never knew about Bellamy.”
“Let’s not fucking talk about Bellamy while you have your warm pussy plastered to me.”
She chuckles quietly. “Noted.”
I grin back at her, fucking relaxed and … actually happy in a way I’m not certain I’ve ever been before. Not even during those summers with Zaya. When we were always aware we had to leave each other —
“So, I was fifteen, you were seventeen … did I press my warm pussy against you while you were forcing me to learn algebra?”
I laugh involuntarily. “Fuck no. I gave up teaching you anything to do with numbers or science after you almost broke my nose throwing a tantrum —”
“Never happened!” Zaya cries, playfully pounding her fists against my abs.
And before I register my own movements, I’m dragging her mouth to mine and kissing her fiercely, holding her way too tight. I loosen my grip on her. “I’m sorry —”
Zaya grabs my head, refusing to break the kiss. “I want to be under you,” she gasps. “I want you in me, again and again.”
I move without thought, as if not totally in control — and speaking honestly, I know my control is fucking shredded — as I roll Zaya under me.
She wiggles down the bed, getting her hand on my epically fucking hard cock and almost managing to notch it at her entrance before I hold myself still over her, off her, instead of plunging exactly where I want to go. Again and again. As requested.
She strokes me, her hold firm, and twisting almost harshly over the head of my cock as if she already knows I like just a little pain with my pleasure. It keeps me anchored, focused.
Speaking honestly again, it keeps me hard enough to fuck whoever I’m trying to fuck who isn’t her.
“Zaya …” I snarl.
“You promised me the tip during your interrogation.”
I groan, completely giving in even as I carefully hold myself off her. “This isn’t an interrogation …”
Zaya bends her knees, planting her feet on the bed, and tilting her pelvis up at the perfect fucking angle. “Tell me the story.”
“We’re working out of order now …” I say, trying to get some of the playfulness back that Zaya wants, maybe even needs. We were never really playful together … because I was obsessed with watching her, anticipating anything she might need, and she … she …
I tease the head of my rigid cock into her. Just the tip dipping into her warmth.
She hums, pleased. But she doesn’t try to push me further or faster.
“We normally met at the house, but I was a little late that … day …” I dip into her warmth again, then again, just giving her the tip, as requested. But right before I dip again, I rub my now well lubricated head over her clit.
“And …?” she asks, a little breathless.
“There are a lot of nerves, you know, just within the first couple of inches of the vaginal —”
“Rath!”
I laugh, but I’m seriously not certain how long I can play like this. I slip just a little farther into her, coating the first couple of inches of my cock in her heat. “You don’t like it, Tempest?”
She reaches up and drags my mouth down to hers, kissing me. Then she slides her hands over my shoulders and across my chest. My breath hitches as she runs her thumbs over my nipples, drawing her attention back to them. Gaze riveted to mine, she brushes them deliberately again. Then again.
My hips buck, giving her more than just the tip before I get myself under control.
“Where was I, then? If not in the house?”
I blink, then remember what the fuck we’re talking about while I try to not just fuck her into the bed. I’m not certain the bed could take what I want to do to Zaya, actually.
“You were peeking through the windows at the front of the beach house.”
“The beach house?” An utterly fucking adorable wrinkle forms between her brows.
“You silently shushed me when I neared, reaching for my hand. Then you showed me the gap in the curtains …”
“And?” Zaya prompts, impatient.
“Probably assuming we were studying up at the house … literature, by the way …”
“Rath!”
I chuckle, teasing the head of my cock in and out of her while I pick up the narrative of the story. “Mack had Disa pinned up against the wall of the back hall, just beside the bedroom door. His face buried in her pussy.”
Zaya’s eyes round. “And they … Disa should have been able to …”
“I think she was pretty distracted, because Ingrid was in the mix as well. Plus, they had sound and other essence barriers on the house.”
“We … we watched them have sex?” Zaya wrinkles her nose as if the idea of watching her aunt and her two chosen mates isn’t exactly a turn-on.
“No … you tucked your face into my neck right as I looked through the gap in the curtains. You whispered, ‘What’s he doing? Licking her?’ And after I nodded, you pressed your hand to my cock through my shorts, and you said, ‘So would it feel good if I lick you too?’ I nearly fucking came.”
“And then?” Zaya asks huskily.
“And then you led me into the woods to the treehouse. And I figured out exactly how you liked to be licked, and you returned the favor. In between orgasms.” I manage a cocky smile, though I’m barely fucking managing to keep from coming right now.
“Did you teach me how to suck cock, Rath?” she purrs.
“I think we were both rather proficient after that summer.”
“And I imagine the other two didn’t complain.”
I laugh, again involuntarily. “You were also intrigued by the idea of having more than just one of us pleasure you at the same time, but we didn’t tackle that lesson until the next summer.”
Zaya presses up on her feet, legs bent and pelvis angled. I give her more of my cock. She wraps her hand around my neck, trying to tug me closer. “Give me all of that fucking fat cock now, Rath,” she pants. “You can give me a refresher course on the oral sex next.”
Groaning, I allow more of my weight to fall on her, burying my cock deeply within her and just holding in place for a moment. As boring as some might feel this basic position is, I enjoy being this close to Zaya, even more than the fantastic table fuck.
It feels right.
I shift a pillow under her hips because I need her to come, but I also need to be so close to her that I won’t be able to play with her clit.
She wraps her legs around me, hooking her feet under my calves and squeezing what she can reach of my ass. “ ‘Just the tip’ counted as the slow sex, didn’t it?”
“Nope.” I roll my hips. “Now don’t rush me. Otherwise, I’ll tie you to the fucking bed.”
She laughs. Then, like the fucking brat she is — in her adult incarnation at least — she pinches, then twists my nipples. Hard.
I groan, pain mixing with the pleasure already tightening my balls and radiating up my spine. “Next time,” I snarl, like the beast I hold only skin deep.
Then I give her everything she wants.
The bed doesn’t survive this particular lesson. I’m also not quite certain I’m the teacher in this scenario.
I wake to the smell of turkey bacon, an empty bed beside me, and not a single nightmare clouding my mind. The bond with Zaya hums quietly in my chest the moment my thoughts shift to her, and I instantly know she’s near, no more than a dozen feet away.
I roll off the bed — which is pretty much just a mattress on the floor now since I ruined the fucking frame — taking the blankets with me before I realize that I’ve been sweetly tucked in.
I should probably feel ashamed about the bed, or worried that I might have hurt Zaya, but I don’t.
I feel just a little smug, though, like a complete fucking asshole.
I rise to my feet to grab the black sweatpants that have clearly been left for me on the bureau, feeling completely at peace, settled within.
I’ve always been in tune with the celestial dragon that shares one half of my soul, though I know some shifters fight their other halves. I suspect that’s the case for Reck.
I’ve also never seen the gryphon so dominant within Rought as it has been since Zaya’s return — though I understand now that somehow, the gryphon knew of the soul bond it had with our mate and was content to wait for her.
I tug on the sweats, hitting the bathroom to pee. I brush my teeth with what appears to be a new toothbrush, though Zaya has used it already.
The house is owned by the Outcast MC as part of the original reclamation of this area.
I had intended to fold it into the resort and spa, but the owners of the properties between the resort and here weren’t willing to sell.
So it’s operated as secondary housing for the last couple of years, whenever there was a need to settle a new member into the pack.