The sound of my name jolts me back to the present, and I sit up, trying to hide the shaking in my limbs. What the fuck? Get over it, Kash.
Only it’s not that easy. I haven’t talked to them about what happened in that basement, about time dragging, panic plaguing me, about the punishments and pain until they seemed to have forgotten about me and I ended up licking the humidity off the walls to survive and…
Fuck.
“Kash.” Sydney crawls on the bed and wraps herself around me, arms and legs and ticklish long hair. “Where did you go inside your head?”
“Nowhere.” My breathing betrays me, but I won’t speak of the demons in my mind now. “I’m here.”
“Are you now, Buttercup?”
“What’s with the silly nicknames?” I grumble, secretly relieved he’s acting normal.
Well, as normal as Nate acts, anyway.
“You never said…” He chucks off his pants and T-shirt and climbs up behind me, his chest gleaming like pale marble, all ridges and planes. “What we’re supposed to call you?”
“The fuck you mean?” I bury my face in Syd’s neck and inhale her sweetness, trying to control my breathing, stop the shaking.
“I mean your name.” He slips his arms around me, and I sigh in relief at the feeling of safety he gives me. “Are you Kasimir or Kash?”
“If you call me Kasimir, I’ll kill you,” I threaten, my voice muffled against Sydney’s skin. “I’m Kash. This is who I am.”
“Whatever you say, Blondie.”
I groan.
Sydney snickers. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Get used to being annoyed?”
“Get used to Nate.”
“What? I’m charming,” Nate protests. “Ask Syd. I’m fucking adorable.”
I’m laughing, although I wanna throttle him. The thing is, he sounds much more like the boy I first met than ever. He’s getting better, getting over his past, and so should I.
Get over it, Kash. Come on.
“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Kash,” West says, sitting on the bed beside us, and I lift my head to look at him. “Since we met, you’ve been taking care of us, hiding your scars. Hiding everything you are. But you can’t hide how good you are, how good to us. You don’t have anything to prove.”
“We’re here for you now,” Sydney whispers. “You can rely on us. You can break apart if you need to. We’ll put you back together.”
“I don’t wanna…” Don’t wanna break. My voice is broken, my mind, but I’m not falling apart now, no way. “Jesus. You promised me a fuckfest.”
West laughs, a low, dark sound that goes straight to my dick. “Fuck the pain out of you, that what you want? Fuck it out of your system?”
“Maybe.” I give a sheepish shrug. “Does it work for you?”
He sighs and reaches for me, dragging me sideways, out of the hold of Syd and Nate. “Let’s give it a try.”
That’s not an answer, I think, but he drags me to his lap and pulls up my T-shirt to run his big hands over my chest. Despite the lingering bruises, it feels good and I grab his head and kiss him, tasting him, salty and spicy and sweet. Our groins rub together through our sweats, our cocks hardening.
It was no answer, but maybe this is. Pleasure. The pleasure he’s giving me, that they are giving me, the pleasure of being back with them, this… this helps, lessens the pain. With time… maybe the pain will fade. Fade enough to let me function properly, though not completely. But that’s okay. It’s what first tied me to them, this new family of mine.
I pull back for a breath and press a hand to West’s chest, feeling his heart pounding under my palm. He shifts against me, and I hiss when our cocks rub together, the cloth adding more friction. But when I look up, I find his gaze locked somewhere over my shoulder, so I turn to see what has turned his blue eyes dark with lust.
Nate has laid Sydney down on the bed and pulled off her panties. He’s got her legs spread and is eating out her pussy. She moans and lifts her hips, her hands tangling in his dark hair, trying to fuck his face, and damn…