“I can walk just fine, big guy.” I wrapped my arms around his thick neck and ran my fingers through his black hair. It was getting long, starting to fall over his forehead the way Tyler’s did. “I wasn’t hurt.”
“I know.” He kissed me on the cheek and started to climb the stairs. “I just wanna hold you.”
Those words in that deep, gruff voice just about melted me. If he wasn’t careful, I would trickle right out of his big arms. I buried my head in Ethan’s chest and rested in the comfort of his strong hold, all the way to my en suite.
Five
Ethan left me alone to shower, and I spent a long time under the hot spray. I scrubbed every inch of my body and painstakingly detangled my hair, using nearly half a bottle of conditioner. Then I just stood there, letting the water soothe my muscles until I no longer felt like a tension wire.
When I started to get wrinkly fingers, I dried off and put on one of my soft cotton sleep shirts. I picked the towel back up off the end of my bed and tried to squeeze more moisture out of my hair.
The thud of boots on carpet was my only warning before the bedroom door burst open and a furious Alec stormed into the room.
The sudden loud noise startled me, and I dropped the towel. “Fucking knock, Alec!”
He just strode inside, still in his full uniform. “Why the fuck aren’t you at the hospital?” His voice was hard and unyielding, his hands in fists by his sides.
“Because there’s nothing wrong with me, asshole.”
“Get your shit. I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“No.” I took a few steps away from him, stopping near the open window. The evening breeze had a chill on it. “The EMTs checked me out and I’m fine.”
Alec growled. He turned away and ran his hands over his buzzed hair before swinging his furious, wide eyes back to me. “I can’t believe those motherfuckers didn’t take you to the hospital. I’m gonna kill them.”
He stalked forward until we were chest to chest. “Evelyn, I’m not going to say it again. Get your shit and let’s go.”
I crossed my arms and tilted my chin up. “No.”
He pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose. Frustration and barely restrained anger laced every exhale. He was practically throwing a temper tantrum, and I refused to pander to his ridiculous demands.
“Alec, would you calm the fuck down? The EMTs said I was fine. I just wanted a hot meal and a hotter shower. What is going on with you?”
He moved so fast it was almost a blur, his hands going to my waist and gripping tight, as if he were about to lift me and just carry me to the hospital kicking and screaming. His hands moved up my ribcage, then back down to my hips as the rage in his face melted away, replaced by . . . fear?
“I just . . .” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m fucking terrified of losing you, OK? I need to make sure you’re not hurt.”
“I’m fine.” I covered his hands with mine and pressed my forehead to his. “I’m right here, arguing with you.” I smirked and moved one of his hands up to my neck. “I’m standing and breathing. I don’t have a concussion or even a scratch on me. A few bruises, but that’s it. I’m safe, Alec.” I squeezed his hands, making him feel my flesh in his fingers. “I’m safe.”
For a few moments we just breathed, him holding me, me feeling more and more grounded by his strong hands. Rain started to pitter-patter outside, giving the cool breeze a distinctive fresh smell.
As the rain picked up, Alec pulled me into his arms, making me lift onto my toes.
The rain started hitting my ankles, but I ignored it, waiting until Alec was ready to let go. I was the one who’d nearly been killed, but it was me who needed to reassure him that everything was OK. Alec was strong in so many ways—formidable even—but he would always have a weakness for those he loved. And he’d told me in no uncertain terms that he loved me.
When he finally loosened his grip, I kissed him but didn’t linger long. The rain was going to ruin the carpet, and the cold wind was giving me goosebumps. I turned and pulled the window shut, enjoying the soothing, steady rhythm of the rain hitting the glass.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to go get checked out?”
The stubborn jerk just wasn’t dropping it. I rolled my eyes. “If I’m not feeling well in the morning, you can take me. I promise. Now can we drop it?”
He frowned, not liking my compromise, not liking any compromise ever. His eyes raked over my body but not in that lascivious way I loved; he was still looking for injuries.
I was done arguing. Better to give him something else to focus on.
I stepped into his personal space once more, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. Not the gentle reassuring kiss I’d given him moments ago, but that all-consuming, desperate kind we’d perfected—only I wasn’t entirely sure who was desperate in this scenario. Was it him? Desperate to make sure I was safe, to feel me in his arms. Or was it me? Desperate to feel alive after coming so close to death.
Reflexively, his hands gripped my hips, almost bruising, then grabbed my ass. He rolled his own hips, rubbing his erection against my front.
Then all at once, his hands and his mouth were gone.
I stumbled as he stepped back, but I leaned into the fall, kept going, refused to let him speak or leave or stop. With a sudden, aggressive move that made his eyes widen, I shoved him in the chest. His back collided with the mirror on the wall next to my bathroom, cracking the glass. He grunted in surprise, but I was already crushing my breasts against his front, clutching two fistfuls of his shirt, and hitching a leg over his hip. He grabbed my thigh with one calloused hand, his other arm banding around my back and pulling me impossibly closer, and then he was kissing me again.
We writhed against each other—teeth scraping, hands roaming—ignoring the destruction, the cracks.
I pulled back slightly and reached for his zipper. His movements stilled and his hands dropped away from my body.
Defeated, I dropped my leg and stepped back, keeping my gaze on his boots. My bare feet looked so small next to them.
He cleared his throat. “The broken glass. I just—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off and crossed my arms.
He sighed and pushed past me, walking to the door. As his hand reached for the knob, I turned to my dresser and began digging through my underwear drawer. I couldn’t stand to watch him walk away again.
After an extended moment of stillness, he huffed, and I heard him moving around behind me.
I paused, my hands running through my damp hair. Alec had never been in my room. He hung out with us in Josh’s room more than he used to, and I’d crawled into bed with him a few times—mostly after he got back from some days-long mission and the Light was straining me toward him. Once he’d crawled into bed behind me when I was sleeping with Tyler.
I turned to find him sitting on my bed. He didn’t look at me—just started to unlace his boots.
“Are you here to sleep or . . . ?” I wasn’t entirely sure how I wanted to end that sentence, but what I’d said at the party still held true. It didn’t matter that I’d been attacked, that he was freaked out about it. I wasn’t going to allow him into my bed if he wasn’t ready to be with me fully.
Just thinking about it had my pulse quickening, and I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing any underwear. I’d been heading to the dresser to get some when he barged in.
He stared me down for a beat. “Or,” he declared, a challenge in his eyes. He was still testing me. Still unsure.
I crossed my arms. “I meant what I said, Alec. You can’t stay here if you’re unwilling to let go of your martyr crap and be with me. I want to fuck.”
It may’ve been a crude way to put it, but he seemed to respond to me best when I was fired up. I just hoped it didn’t backfire. His eyes narrowed, but his lips twitched into an almost smile—something between pleased and amused.
In answer, he
pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the ground, putting his glorious, tattooed, scarred body on display. I raked my eyes over the muscle and the ink, the raised pink scars, and the smooth skin. My lips parted slightly.
I walked over to him and dropped my hands to his shoulders—these shoulders had carried so much. So much pain, so many worries, so much responsibility.
“Are you sure you—”
“Shut the fuck up, Alec,” I rushed out before leaning forward and crushing my mouth to his. He responded with a low growl, his hands going to my hips and tugging me closer. I lifted one knee to the mattress and left one foot planted on the floor between his feet. He had to tilt his head up to kiss me, and I liked having the upper hand. I was the one guiding the kiss, controlling the angle.
As we kissed—our tongues battling, our teeth scraping—he dragged his hands down my sides until his palms found skin at my legs. Then he trailed them back up, lifting the cotton hem of my shirt. When he reached my hips, where his fingers should have found my underwear, he broke the kiss and stared at me.
His stunning eyes were hooded with lust, but there was also a hint of surprise, as well as some other, more perplexing emotion.
He didn’t let himself get lost in it though. He moved his hands to cup my bare ass and squeezed, kneading the cheeks. His breath washed over my chest, tickling the spot just above the neckline. His mouth was so close to my breasts—I couldn’t stop remembering how good his tongue had felt when it circled my nipples.
I yanked my top off and threw it somewhere behind me. I was completely naked, hovering above the Master of Pain as his hot breath washed over my breasts and his hungry eyes took me in. I had a feeling he was hovering too—hovering on the edge of giving in to our relationship, our Bond. If he needed more pushing, I would push, but I knew I nearly had him.
I moved backward to remove his pants, but he stopped me. Apparently he was done letting me take charge.
He held me to him with one strong hand still on my ass. The other moved to the back of my knee, nudging until I was right where he wanted me—both knees planted on the mattress, straddling him. I was spread open, and a shiver crawled up my spine as the cool air hit the heat and wetness between my legs. But he didn’t let me lower onto his lap. The hand on my ass kept me upright as he leaned forward to wrap his mouth around my right nipple, just as I’d hoped he would only moments ago. As his teeth bit down lightly, I moaned. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. My nails dug into his shoulders, one hand going to the back of his head to hold him close. I didn’t want him to stop.
But he did, releasing my left breast after one last bite that bordered on painful—if anyone knew how to walk the line between pleasure and pain, it was Alec. His hot tongue licked a trail between my breasts and up to my collarbone; his hands ghosted along the inside of my thighs.
He ran two fingers over my already slick folds before making a circle down, then back up my thighs. His fingers ran over me again, this time with more pressure—feeling how wet I was for him before he’d even touched me there. He groaned and pressed his face into the bend of my neck, kissing, licking, and biting between pants. His chest pressed flush against my front, and all I could do was try to remain upright as he slipped his fingers inside.
He didn’t give me a chance to adjust—didn’t check if I was ready or if this was how I wanted it. He just held me to him and pumped his fingers in and out, deep and fast, his mouth sending gasping breaths over my neck.
I groaned and pressed my breasts against him, loving the pressure, the extra friction. The orgasm came fast and wild—as everything always did with Alec. It exploded out from his fingers, and I involuntarily rocked my hips.
My knees were weak as he finally let me lower to his lap. I rested my forehead on his shoulder and took a moment to catch my breath. One of his hands rested at my hip while the other stroked my back tenderly. But judging by the straining bulge in his pants, there was nothing too tender about his thoughts.
I sat up and kissed him softly, taking a deep, satisfied breath.
But I wasn’t done with him.
To break the kiss, I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and bit down hard. He grunted in surprise, and his hand slapped my ass. The crack of his palm connecting with my flesh reverberated through the dark room.
I leaned back, surprised—half at the fact that he’d done it and half at the fact that I was kind of enjoying the warmth as the sting faded.
I didn’t let either of us overthink it though, quickly moving my hands to his fly.
His fingers wrapped around my wrist, and for a split second, my mind flashed back to that night in Tyler’s study when he’d rejected me, made me feel worthless. Uncertainty clawed at me, but I forced those thoughts away and met his gaze.
“Don’t,” I whispered and narrowed my eyes. My body still craved his. “Don’t try to bail again.”
He released my wrist and cupped my cheek, but his harsh words contrasted with his gentle touch. “Would you fucking relax? I’m just trying to get the condom out of my pocket before you tear my pants off.”
“Oh . . .” I bit my lip and waited for him to pull the foil packet out—then did exactly as he’d said. I ripped his pants and underwear off in one go and settled back over him. We were both completely naked now. Another surge of excitement coursed through me; we were even, and he wasn’t leaving.
“The guys told me you’re a contraceptive Nazi so . . .” His tone was teasing as he slid the condom down his perfect, erect cock.
“Well, excuse me for not wanting to catch some disease from one of you man-whores.” I shoved his shoulders, and he flopped down on the mattress with a crooked smirk.
“Ex-man-whores. None of us have been able to so much as fucking look at a woman since we touched you.”
Now probably wasn’t the best time to bring up Dana, so I went with a simple yet classic retort. “Fuck you, Alec.”
He rolled his eyes. “Would you stop talking about it and fucking do it already?” He held his erection by the base and moved it up and down, teasing me, spreading the wetness.
I reached down and covered his fingers with mine, stilling his movements, then started to lower myself onto him.
We both sighed in pleasure. When I was halfway down, enjoying every slow inch of this moment—the moment I’d been dreaming about for so long—he removed both our hands from between us and thrust his hips up mercilessly.
“Ah!” I cried out in surprise and pleasure, but outrage quickly followed. “Fucker!” I frowned at him. What a dick.
He just smiled his cruel smile, and despite myself, I smiled back. I couldn’t worry about that anymore—Alec was inside me, and it felt fucking amazing.
I started moving up and down in a slow rhythm, trying to draw this experience out as long as possible. I wanted to feel every inch of him as he moved inside me. I wanted to revel in his hands roaming my body. I wanted to commit every lascivious image to memory.
He lay back and let me have my way with him.
For about two minutes.
Then he sat up. With one hand gripping my ass and the other threaded in my hair, he flipped us over as if I weighed nothing. His hand in my hair tugged roughly, almost too painfully, yet it sent a jolt of desire straight to my core. My pussy tightened around him as I gasped. He pressed me into the mattress, still inside me, and kissed me. His hips remained perfectly still as his tongue explored my mouth, the kiss building and building in intensity until we were both breathing hard through our noses. I kept trying to move my hips, roll them, do something to get that friction happening again, but he kept me pinned as his mouth devoured mine.
When he decided he’d had enough, he broke the kiss, lifted himself onto his hands, and started pounding into me—long strokes, nearly all the way out before driving back in. Where I wanted to prolong and savor every moment, apparently Alec had decided we’d waited long enough. He wasn’t holding back anymore.
I loved that he
was giving in to it, but why did it always have to be a battle of wills with him? Why did it always give me a little thrill to challenge him? To be challenged by him? What the fuck was wrong with me?
But I didn’t have time to unpack that. Alec’s hips were chasing all thought from my mind as he drove in and out of me mercilessly.
He watched me with piercing blue eyes as he fucked me, taking in my flushed face and swollen lips, watching my breasts bounce in response to his movements, watching his cock disappear into me repeatedly. He couldn’t get enough.
I could feel another orgasm coming. The tingling heat spread from deep inside, and my core muscles clenched in preparation. I started making incoherent sounds between panting breaths, clawing at his shoulders, trying in vain to bring him closer.
He hissed as I accidentally drew blood with my nails, smearing the crimson over his shoulder. But he didn’t stop pounding into me, and I was too far gone to care.
When I closed my eyes and rolled my head back, he growled, “No,” and I snapped my eyes open again. “Look at me. I want to watch you come.”
“Oh, fuck.” His words were the final push that sent me toppling over the edge. I watched Alec watch me come apart under him, the orgasm crashing through me in waves.
He didn’t stop or even slow down, didn’t give me a moment to recover. He just kept up his merciless pace. I was hypersensitive to his every movement, every nerve ending on fire. His eyes raked up and down my body, and it wasn’t long before he found his own release.
With his gaze fixed on mine and his lips parted on an O, he groaned. The soft but guttural sound rumbled from his chest, and I had to admit, I understood why he’d insisted on watching me come. Watching him do the same—seeing him unravel on top of me in pure ecstasy—was mesmerizing.
He dropped to his elbows, and I locked my ankles behind his back, keeping him buried inside me as he caught his breath.
His hands threaded into my hair, much more gently this time. Nuzzling his nose against mine, he kissed me, then drew back just a fraction. I smiled, letting my happiness and satisfaction show—hoping he could see there wasn’t even a hint of regret.
Vivid Avowed (The Evelyn Maynard Trilogy Book 3) Page 7