“Hang on, love, you need to let some circulation—”
I silence Sen’s oh so sensible advice with an honest to goodness snarl, hauling Noah up.
“Flick, it's OK, I—Oh!”
I watched his response hungrily, taking in every
detail as I lined his cock up and then pulled his hips closer.
“Oh!” He kept repeating that same funny little exhalation the deeper he sunk, until his forehead came to rest on mine. “Oh, Flick, you feel so good.”
This Noah wasn’t quite so well practised away from the little scenarios he’d been playing in his head. Now he was here, connected to me, and I gloried in every micro-expression that crossed his face. His head twisted on his neck, and his eyes shut tight as he moved, stroking in and out of my deliciously tortured flesh, stirring up that old ache and replacing it with a new one. For him.
I hadn’t really understood the point of the heat until now, but our Tirians were wise creatures. Sex brings forth a complex array of hormones, responses, and pleasures that we spend quite a lot of time putting up barriers to. It’s what made it possible for us to do something so shockingly intimate as putting our bodies in the hands of another, then walk away emotionally unaffected moments after we had what we wanted. But maintaining that in a heat?
The endless responsiveness lulled the mind, dismantling those boundaries we kept between us in a sea of pleasure to let things in. Let the other person’s needs, wants, desires, pleasure in. Let their ideas and experiences in. Let their history and their predilections, their hopes for the future. What should have been a mindless orgy was actually something else. Some people I’d met at parties at uni had babbled on about tantra and sacred sexuality, and I’d dismissed it all as hippy bullshit, but what else was this?
As if sensing my mood, Noah opened his eyes and then shifted us so he was in a seated position with me straddling him. He looked at me with the softest eyes and then kissed me as he pushed back inside me.
“Does this… Is it better for…?” I asked between kisses.
“The plug? Well, yeah, it presses on my prostate so damn good, but that’s not it.” He studied me for a moment, not changing our slow, rocking pace. “You might not want me to do this again. I want to feel you and smell you and bury everything I am in you, so that if this is it, I’ve got something to take back with me when I go home.”
I felt a pang at that, a sense of loss, despite the fact that he was right here with me. And how could I lose someone I didn’t even know? I knew about some of his sexual proclivities, but that was it. And yet I took everything he had to give me—breathing in his sighs, tasting his lips, sucking his sweat into my skin and his scent into my nose. When we finally came together, my body absorbed his ragged rasping cries, his snarl of almost pain, his sobs of relief, and his jetting seed.
Mine, a voice rumbled in my mind.
Don’t do this, I told my Tirian. Not again. You can’t keep throwing people together and expecting it to work.
Mine, she replied, all her age-old wisdom cast to one side to reveal a primal beast snarling at me. I know what is pack. He is pack!
Then let me find my way to that. If we’re meant to be together, we’ll sort it out in time.
Stupid monkey brains. Always pick, pick, picking.
And what about Kade? Noah hasn’t even met him yet. He’d be bloody horrified to find he has a new dad ensconced in the house. He needs time to adjust to things, to develop a relationship with anyone that becomes a part of this household.
I didn’t get a reply to that, just a sulky sniff before she prowled away.
“C’mon, lie down,” Sen said. “Everyone nice and tight. Coming down can be a bit rough after something like that. You did well, so very well. Just rest now. The next wave will hit soon enough. Just rest.”
32
Everything made sense after the incident. Rick looked at his close-cropped head and the great big scar on his skull, outlining what his bitch of a wife had done. He’d been found by one of his mates—who’d seen his car hooting off down the road at some ridiculous hour of the night—and taken to hospital, where he’d laid in a coma, apparently. Until they came.
It had just been darkness for Rick while he was out of it. He’d heard the doctors and the nurses dimly, but he’d been smothered by this heavy layer of gloom, unable to respond, to form a thought, anything. And then somehow, that changed.
The red lights were what came first, just points of glowing scarlet in the seamless black. He stared at them with his mind’s eyes for what felt like days, because what else could he do? He couldn’t breathe unassisted, couldn’t piss, shit, do a bloody thing but stare. And after a while, the red lights stared back.
Rick couldn’t remember the moment it happened, when they resolved themselves from the darkness, emerging as two of the biggest black dogs he’d ever seen. That made him chuckle hysterically inside his mind, remembering how his mate Macca always talked about getting a big black dog up someone when he was pissed off. The dogs didn’t respond, didn’t do anything but stare at him.
The weird thing was they didn’t go when he woke up. That was a slow, painful, shitty process. He’d still been pissing and shitting into a bag for a bit as they got him back on the mend, much to his disgust. What use was life if a man couldn’t have a smoke or a beer whenever he fucking wanted? None of his mates turned up either. Macca did and Gus, who’d reported his car stolen for him, but it seemed taking one look at him, with the scars and the drool pooling in the side of his mouth, was enough to keep them away. That was fine, they weren’t his focus, anyway.
Since waking up, it was her and only her that clogged his mind. He pictured her falling down, crushed by his punishing blows, the crack of her bones as he kept on punching, her blood running and matting the carpet, only stopping when her face was so fucking rearranged, she was barely recognisable.
That’s when he’d know it was done—when she looked like that.
His cock only got hard when he thought about that now, while the pretty nurses giving him sponge baths did nothing for him. When they weren’t looking, he gave the old fella a stroke, thinking of his wife’s destruction, those big black dogs looking on.