He popped out a smoke, handed it to me, and I took one, thrilled to be in sole possession of such a contraband treat. If only my fellow Uppers knew how much I loved being wicked, I’d be tossed into the Lower shanty towns for sure. But I couldn’t help it. I was drawn to my addiction, my need for something more razor-edged than the cushioned, soft life of an Upper.
“I don’t know if I can ever convince you that I want to change the way things are,” I told Harlow after a few moments of silence. “I don’t know if I want to, honestly. It might be for the better if I have to prove myself to you with actions and not words.”
“Everything feels too big to handle at the moment,” she replied, drawing in a sharp breath. “I need time before we’re okay. I need you to be okay with that. I need time to get over what happened to me in there.”
I knew better than to press for any more information, but I knew my experience alone had been bad enough. I wondered if they treated Lowers in the Pit worse than they’d treated me. From the way Harlow looked and how shattered she was, I guessed they did. They’d hurt her exponentially worse than they’d hurt me.
“I’m okay with that,” I replied. I wasn’t, I wanted it to go back to how it had been before, but I had no choice. I had to give her the time and space to recover and trust me again. It felt like we’d reached an uneasy truce of sorts. We made up but not completely. I would have to be content with that for now and work on my plan to get her access to the same treatments as mine.
She stood up abruptly and swayed on her feet, and I reached out to steady her. For just a moment, it felt like normal again. She smiled down at me, and all I saw were her eyes. My friend had returned.
But she let out a dry cough, hunched over, and gathered the hoodie around her as a blank look took its place.
“Thanks,” she said. “I know it wasn’t your fault, but I have a lot to process. We’ll be okay. We are okay.”
“I know we are,” I replied and offered her a smile.
“I’ll see you later at the ritual,” Luke said and flashed her a warm smile. “You’ll feel better after that. You always do.”
“We always do,” she replied. “I’m starting to think it’s one way for the Uppers to give us a small dose of whatever they’re giving Willow. It works, though. We might revolt if we didn’t have it.”
I nodded and thought about it, and it did make sense. I watched her walk away and turned to Luke.
“Is that right? Is that how you feel after ritual?” I asked.
“It’s very invigorating,” he nodded, then slid down the bench towards me. Our knees touched, and he reached out to place his hands on my thighs. “Then again, I can think of a few other things that make me feel the same way.”
“So ritual makes you feel like you’re getting your dick sucked?” I asked and ran my tongue across my lips to drive him wild. I leaned forward and got my face just a couple of inches from his, and looked him in the eye. “I might have to join you more often if it feels that good.”
“Who said you make me feel good with your lips wrapped around my cock, my little kitten?” His eyes were brilliant with humor, and I had a memory of riding him hard in the morning, my hips rocking against his as the sun streamed into our apartment. But that was wrong, all wrong. Luke and I never lived together, and we never had a little cat even though I remembered her. Pixel she was called.
Fuck. I shook my head, and the memory scattered like dandelion wisps in the wind, and I focused on Luke again.
“My mouth doesn’t make you feel good?” I asked, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips, and I longed to kiss him. I needed to kiss him. God, I fucking needed it. But I didn’t want to give in that fast. As much as I loved getting what I wanted with my men, I loved the game even more. The illicit thrill of the chase with Rome, the near violent clashing with Alexander, and the gentle, loving flirtation with Luke.
I pouted and tilted my head. I went to pull back, but he reached up and cupped my head.
“No, it doesn’t make me feel good, princess kitten,” he rasped and pulled me even closer so that my legs lifted onto his, I draped them over his thighs, and our bodies leaned into each other, bow taut. “It makes me feel fucking amazing.”
His voice was a ragged growl on the last sentence, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. My pussy was throbbing for him, and I was a little kitten in heat, desperate for him inside of me. I tumbled toward him, and our mouths met with an explosion of sensual touch. Our lips were hot and hungry, and our tongues were slippery and twisting together endlessly into a swirl of bliss.
I reached down and fumbled with the button on his pants, he helped me, and I slid my hand in to take hold of his thick, pulsing cock.
He groaned the moment I made contact, and I felt him desperately shoving my skirt up my thighs. He put his hands on my hips and dragged me closer. As my pussy made contact with the head of his cock, he hooked a finger into my panties and yanked them to the side.
He hesitated just inside, with just the tip tucked gently inside my heated lips.
“I want this so fucking bad,” he said and groaned. “Fuck, I want this.”
“I need it,” I exhaled and almost begged him to fuck me. “Please, Luke, we’ve done it before.”
“Not like this,” he said, his voice dangerous and tense. “Not now, with your cunt belonging to another.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You have to save it for Alexander,” he said with a low moan. “You have to save yourself.”
“Please, I’m begging you,” I whispered and tilted my hips, so I dragged my clit across his cock head.