by Kit Rocha
She had to contain this. But she couldn't—his fingers slicked over her pussy, and she shuddered at how wet she was, how nakedly needy.
His leg slid over hers, urging her legs wider, and he raised his head. He braced his free arm beside her head and tangled his fingers with hers, holding her arms in place. "So close to ready," he murmured.
She clutched at the only thing she could—the hand pinning her down. It should have been frightening, being naked and vulnerable, trapped and open to him in every possible way.
But there was such tenderness in his body. In his voice. In his touch, as he soothed her trembling with slow strokes that eased the sharpest edges of her nervousness. "Ready for what?"
He answered with his body instead of words, pushing one finger against her.
Into her.
It stretched awkwardly—not quite pain but not pleasure, either—and that was oddly reassuring. It let her suck in a breath and find her equilibrium for the brief moment before he withdrew and worked it back in, deeper.
It stretched more now. She might have shifted her hips away, but the strong leg over hers held her in place, and there was nothing to do but shiver and feel.
Jared sought her gaze and held it, his dark eyes locked with hers as he eased a second finger inside her. Moving, pumping slowly, twisting gently, until the almost-painful pressure gave way to something even more maddening.
Heat.
"Jared." Arching into his touch was as impossible as flinching away, and she whimpered with frustration. "I need…" Something. More.
"I know." He pushed deeper, then pressed the pad of his thumb to her clit with just a whisper of pressure.
She couldn't hold back her cry this time. It tore free of her throat on a pulse of white-hot bliss, and she writhed in a futile attempt to buck up.
He stilled with a soft noise. "Careful, love. Not too fast."
Incomprehensible words. Everything was fast and desperate now, anticipation magnified a hundred times. It had been so easy with her own touch, easy to center her fingers precisely where the ache was worst, easy to relieve it before it could become too overwhelming.
"Why?" she pleaded, digging her nails into his hand. "Why can't it be fast?"
"Because you want us both to feel good," he reminded her of her previous words. "I may not be scared of pain, but it doesn't belong here. Not your first time."
Nothing hurt anymore. But she knew the first time probably would. It was supposed to be painful and abrupt and over with blessed speed—except if she'd still believed any of that, she wouldn't be here.
His thumb grazed her clit again, jolting her into another whimper before she managed to speak. "I feel good. Too good."
"No." He nuzzled her cheek, then licked her lips. "Not yet. But you will."
She leaned up to catch his mouth, kissing him clumsily, desperately, as his fingers twisted inside her, not only gliding in and out now but stretching again.
As the pressure built, she understood. He wasn't just trying to make her feel good, he was trying to make her ready. Teaching her body to accept him, building sensation until she wasn't even embarrassed at the slick sound of his thrusting fingers.
"See, Lili?" He whispered the words against her mouth, breathing them into her, an intimate connection almost painful in its intensity. "Your body is waking up, learning what it wants. What it needs."
"You." Too revealing, but she wasn't embarrassed, not with release so close she could taste it.
But not reach for it. She didn't have to. Jared knew what she could take, and he gave it to her—his fingers plunged deeper, and the slick pressure on her clit turned into a demand.
When she gave in, it wasn't like before. Not the sweet flash fire that burned through to her core and left her limp. Her body clenched tight around his fingers, a pulse that expanded and expanded until she shattered outward with a hoarse cry.
"Fucking—" He bit her ear, closing his teeth on the lobe with a shudder as he rocked his hand. It dragged out the pleasure, turned her orgasm into a series of throbs instead of echoes that faded away.
Too much. Nothing could feel like this and be real. She dug her fingernails into his hand, unable to stop herself when the world was buzzing and she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but shudder through it.
Jared whispered her name, soothed her with soft kisses and gentle flicks of his tongue—over the line of her jaw, her cheek, the spot where her neck met her shoulder.
She gasped in a breath and turned her face toward his. "That was…" Amazing. Beautiful. Life-altering. The O'Kanes weren't a mystery, not anymore. If this was what it felt like to share your body, they'd found a high far easier to manufacture than any drug her father had ever developed.
"Just the beginning," he promised.
She whimpered.
Jared eased from the bed in graceful, smooth movements, as if he wasn't injured at all. He unbuckled his belt, his gaze still locked on her, and opened his pants.
The black boxers he wore couldn't hide his erection. She'd seen it before, touched it, but now she knew how completely he could fill her with only two fingers. No wonder he'd taken his time to prepare her.
She watched, hypnotized, as he pushed the fabric down his powerful legs, freeing his cock. He stood there, completely confident and unashamed of his nudity, as she let herself stare.
A sculptor couldn't have created something more perfect. Smooth skin marred only by the bandages was otherwise free of scars or marks. He had muscles, but not huge and bulky like Zan and Flash, or even solid like Bren. He was strong but lean, his broad shoulders sloping into well-defined arms. Her gaze drifted down his chest and stomach to his narrow hips—
His cock stood as proud and shameless as he did, and she remembered the way she hadn't been able to encircle the base with her hand. She should be terrified, braced for the pain of taking him into her body.
But she trusted him so much that she reached out. "Come back. I want to feel you."
He climbed back onto the bed, this time with the lean bulk of his body looming over her. One leg nudged between hers, and he smiled slowly as she obediently parted her thighs to make room for him.
When he was close enough, she reached up to cup his face, pressing her thumb to his lips. "I never thought I could want this so much."
"You've been locked away." His voice was low, a little rough. "But now you're free—to be who you are, do what you want. Free to feel."
Who she was—that was still a mystery. Right now she was fluid, liquid. The world was alive with potential, and Jared was right. Whatever form she solidified into would be her choice, and no one else's.
This was her choice. To hook one leg around his hip, to tug him closer so she could feel him pressing her into the bed. She was safest like this, with him holding her together while pleasure broke her apart. "Show me."
His hips settled into the cradle of hers, and he braced his elbows on the bed on either side of her head, careful not to catch her hair as he held his weight above her. The hair on his body rasped over her skin, a delicious tease, but nothing compared to the hot, slick glide as the shaft of his cock nestled against her.
Jared sucked in a sharp breath that turned into a groan. "You feel so damn good."
That was what she wanted. His pleasure. That noise that started deep in his chest and sounded as needy as she felt. "So do you."
He flexed his hips, rubbing against her, and groaned again. "I should wait, but I don't know if I can."
He could. She knew that in her gut. If there had been the slightest bit of fear left in her, he would have touched and stroked and soothed it all away, no matter how much he suffered for it.
She arched up, shuddering when it only intensified the dizzying pressure against her clit. "You could," she gasped. "But you don't have to."
His eyes went darker. "I know. You want this." He rolled his hips, circling them in one slow, controlled movement that brought her back to the edge. "You want it so m
uch I can't even imagine how hard you'll come on my dick."
Words so obscene, she squeezed her eyes shut against the shame of loving them. "That's—"
"Hot?" He bent his head and nipped at her ear again. "Say it, Lili."
"Dirty," she whispered. "Good."
"How good?"
She moaned, but he didn't relent. Her cheeks burned as she hid her face against his. "I want more. I want to know the dirty words for all the things you do to me."
"Like how I'm going to pound your pussy?" He nudged her chin, forcing her gaze to his. "How I'm going to fuck you until you scream?"
Harsh, rough promises—and they did harsh, rough things to her. The word that had balanced on the tip of her tongue unspoken last time spilled free. "With your cock."
"That's right, love." He thrust against her again. Harder. "With my cock."
She grabbed his shoulders as a shudder rocked her. She was close again. She knew it now, knew what was coming. "Now, please, Jared."
His fingers slid into her hair again—twisting, tangling—but he hesitated. "Were you on any other drugs, Lili? Fertility drugs?"
The sweet edge of safety slipped away at the reminder. "Y—yes. Only for a couple of weeks, but I don't know if that means…"
"What kind? Implants?"
"Pills."
He stroked her temples with his thumbs. "The effects should have worn off by now. But I have condoms, if you want to use one."
An unfamiliar word, but she could imagine the purpose well enough. To save her from her mother's fate, from ending up with a child that might trap her. "Please."
He leaned past her and retrieved a small packet from the table beside the bed. It contained an odd little circle that didn't make sense until Jared lifted himself and fitted it against the head of his cock. His strong, graceful fingers moved hypnotically, dragging her gaze down as he unrolled it onto his shaft.
"See?" He reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips for a quick kiss, then wrapped her fingers around his sheathed erection. "Safer now."
Touching him brought back need. He was so hard under her fingertips, as ready for her as she was for him.
And he'd keep her safe. Safe enough to be brave. "I want you." She tightened her fingers. "I want this."
He climbed over her again with a shudder, moving too carefully to slide free of her grip. He seemed to relish it, a pleasure she understood when he grinned, dark and dangerous. "Show me where."
It took a moment to realize what he wanted. Not for her to lie passively, but to take. Slowly, without looking away, she guided his cock to press against her. Jared took over the movement, his muscles taut and trembling as he braced himself above her and flexed his hips.
The pressure was intense, but it wasn't pain. Not until she rocked up, taking more of him, but even that was manageable. An aching sting, and worth it for the way his teeth sank into his lower lip as his brow furrowed—as if holding back was an agony more intense than anything else.
"Jared." She wrapped her leg around his hip again, digging her heel into his lower back. "I'm not afraid of pain, either. As long as I'm feeling."
"It's not for you." His lips brushed her cheek. "For me."
Because he didn't want to hurt her.
That ache in her chest expanded. She turned her face to his, finding his mouth in a slow, sweet kiss as she relaxed and let him work deeper, bit by bit, moment by moment, until the pressure nearly overwhelmed her.
He whispered softly, words that made no sense, words that weren't supposed to make sense, because all they meant was that he was there, that he had her. That they were together.
When his hips settled against hers, he was so deep that was all she could feel. Him, filling her so completely that the slightest shift of her hips set off a riot of friction. She moaned into his mouth and clung to him, afraid he'd pull back if she let go.
"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured, because he understood. Of course he did.
"I know you have to…" She rubbed her cheek against his and closed her eyes. "I don't want to be overwhelmed. I want to be here with you."
"Look at me."
She did.
The friction slammed into her again as Jared flexed his hips, nudging deeper before retreating just a little. He did it again, and again, turning friction into heat with each slow roll, until she was digging her nails into his back hard enough to break skin.
And, through it all, his gaze never left hers. When the tension threatened to sweep her away, he held her with his eyes, forced her to feel, to savor, to claim each new sensation as his pace increased.
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't slip away, love."
She met his next thrust with a moan. "When do you fall apart?"
"When it's enough. If it ever is." He drove into her again, harder this time.
It jolted through her. Her toes curled as something vast rushed toward her, something she needed with a desperation that left her breathless. "Jared—"
He covered her mouth with a noise caught between a laugh and a groan, and did something with his hips, something that hit every spot so perfectly she couldn't even scream when that wild tension snapped.
It wasn't like the first time. It wasn't even like his fingers. There were so many ways to fall apart, and this was the most intense yet. He rode every wave of pleasure, driving into her hard enough to spark the next cascade, and the next, while her body clenched tight around a cock that felt larger and harder by the second.
He went rigid above her, and she held him as he shuddered. He throbbed inside her, quick, hot pulses echoed and answered by her own body.
Together. She sank her hands into his hair and dragged his head up so she could watch his face, just like he'd watched hers. His parted lips, his furrowed brow, the hazy, dangerous hunger that even an orgasm couldn't touch.
A new emotion stirred inside her, nothing so gentle as affection or even as vulnerable as love. It was dark, dangerous, something that made her tighten her fingers as satisfaction overtook them both.
Mine.
Beethoven woke him.
The apartment was dark, and Lili had left his bed. Jared followed the soft strains of the piano out into the living area, and his dick went hard. Again.
She was sitting at his piano, naked. Her hair spilled across her bare back, and the only thing touching her skin was the scant light bleeding in through the windows. Her face was in shadow, so he stood and watched her fingers move over the keys.
She hit a wrong note from time to time but didn't stop. Not technical proficiency, maybe, but there was no denying she felt the music, so much that she was oblivious to his presence, even after the last note died away.
"You play well," he murmured.
Lili half-turned on the bench. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. It's such a beautiful instrument."
"By all means." He crossed the room and leaned against the cool wood. "Why did you choose that piece?"
She lifted one shoulder. "I always liked it. When I was on the drugs, I didn't feel, not really. But sometimes the music made me come close."
"Moonlight Sonata. Quasi una fantasia."
"Is that...French? Italian?" She smiled self-consciously. "I'm better with cooking vocabulary."
"Italian." It fit this moment, even better than she realized. "Almost a fantasy."
She turned back and slid her fingers over the flawless, polished wood of the piano. "It's a lot of work, isn't it? Being almost a fantasy."
"Too much work." He didn't regret his life or his decisions, but it would be facile—maybe delusional—to insist that playing sex god to the repressed women of Eden hadn't left its mark on him. "But everything is a cost-benefit analysis, isn't it? 'Do I want this badly enough to pay the price?'"
"I suppose it always is. 'Is the chance that tomorrow could be better worth living through today?'" She smiled up at him. "Now I'm glad I paid the price."
His heart thumped, and he looked away. "You have another analysis to make, now that you kno
w the truth about me."
The bench creaked, and she touched his arm. "I made it before I took my clothes off, Jared. I'm not going to change my mind now."
She wouldn't be the first. Hell, he wouldn't blame her. "Things happen, Lili. People say things in the heat of the moment, and I'd be some kind of asshole if I held you to them without giving you a chance to think."
She rose, standing so close that her hair tickled over his shoulder and the smooth curve of her breast brushed his chest. But she moved before he could, sliding behind him to rest her cheek between his shoulders as she wrapped her arms gently around his waist.
Her skin was warm against his. It would be easy to accept her acceptance and ignore the anxious pressure in his chest. He could lose himself in her, even tell himself nothing else mattered right now.
Easy...but not right. Jared turned and grasped her hips, holding her just far enough away to maintain the illusion of decency. "I mean it. My life right now is dangerous. I need to know you've considered that."
Her blue eyes weren't soft now. They were frozen and ancient, just like her expression. "I know I must seem sheltered, but I didn't grow up in a fairy tale. And I'm not trying to turn you into one."
"I wasn't implying that you were." He tightened his fingers on her hips. "And I'm not trying to get rid of you, either. But there are things I'm only now realizing about my situation, so I'd be damn surprised if you'd managed to wrap your head around it all already."
Lili covered his hands with hers, holding them in place, and took a step back toward the bed. "Then talk to me about what you have to do, and maybe we'll both understand better."
"What I'm already doing," he corrected. "I've been passing information to Dallas for a few months now."
"About the leaders in Eden?"
About everything—leaders, followers, society, and politics. Economics and backroom deals. Anything and everything a woman might complain about over wine...or whisper into his pillow. "You never know which things will be useful."
She nodded, still backing slowly toward his bed and drawing him with her. "Is it hard? Harder than it was before, I mean?"