by Selena Scott
And then, when he added the heavy heel of his hand to her clit, pressing and barely circling, she was a goner. She couldn’t believe she was about to come from this. This was caveman sex! Yet there she went and— “Mother effing holy mother god dammit!” Diana shouted, tensing against him almost violently.
The orgasm was both sharp and achey as her body rhythmically clamped around him over and over again. It was scarily intense, a different kind of pleasure than she’d ever felt before. It was almost as if all the other orgasms she’d had in her life had been in one certain language and this one was in an entirely new tongue.
She went completely lax against the bed, turning her face into the bedsheets that smelled like laundry detergent and Orion. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” she chanted over and over. Her orgasm seemed to spur something within him because his thrusts distinctly changed. His hips began circling behind her, up into her, like there was some secret place inside her that he was trying his hardest to find, find, find. His arms clamped, almost too hard around her, his lips locking onto the lobe of her ear, releasing it only to say something to her in words she didn’t -couldn’t- understand.
Diana gasped for air, clamped a hand around his forearm and opened her legs wide. Her body was soft and wrung out from her orgasms, her attention shifting from her own pleasure to his. She so badly wanted him to feel everything that she just had. She felt sweet and open and impossibly tender toward him. She wanted every good thing for him. Everything it was possible for him to feel, she wanted that. She gripped his arm with one hand and threaded her fingers through his hair with the other hand. She opened herself even wider to him, tipping her head back again, she caught the corner of his eye, dark and dilating and wild. “Give it to me, Orion. You know it’s mine. You know it belongs to me. You know I can take it. Give it to me.”
He bared his teeth in a white flash, gripped her hip almost bruisingly hard and gave four hard thrusts into her, his body going stiff and a pained noise erupting from his throat.
His orgasm seemed to last forever as Diana marveled at the bulky strength of the muscles that surrounded her, his giant feet bunching against the bedsheets, the volume of air that washed over her from his gigantic lungs. The man was a continent unto himself.
He fell back onto the bed and gripped her hard, not pulling out. “Diana, Diana, Diana,” he chanted, just as she’d chanted for god after she’d come. His hands closed over her hip, her breasts, her neck and thigh and chin. He kissed at her neck as passionately as he’d kissed between her legs just half an hour before. When the palm of his hand found the place where they were still joined, Orion circled her clit with an almost friendly pressure, no finesse, just that blunt confidence she should have known was going to wreck her.
She hadn’t thought she could come again after all the muscle-quaking pleasure she’d endured minutes before, but it didn’t take long at all for him to have her up and over the edge again. A milder, achier orgasm than the ones before it but sweeter too. If those other orgasms were like deep tongue kisses, this one was like a hug. Comforting, warm, satisfying on a soul-deep level.
When the pleasure finally subsided, he pulled out of her and rolled her to her back, leaning over her to kiss her. He kissed her like he was drinking the clearest coolest water. He took deep draughts of her, stopping only to press his forehead against hers every once in a while, his eyes firmly closed.
Diana really, really didn’t want to ruin the moment or anything, but there were needs that required some attention. “Um?” she started and his eyes fluttered open. “I’m really hoping you have clean sheets.”
His brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“Things are a little messy?”
He rolled back from her, onto all fours, and looked down at where she was pointing. “Wow,” he said with a laugh as he scratched at his head. “Yeah, I’ve never had sex without a condom before. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that it’s pretty much just like coming on the sheets.”
Diana propped herself up. “I never have either. For the record.” She bit her lip.“I really wish you had an en suite.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A bathroom connected to your bedroom. I kinda don’t want to go into the hall, um, like this.”
“Right. Here, I have a robe. You can cover up with that and then we can run across to the bathroom. I’m the only one on this floor so it would be really unlikely that my siblings will see you.”
He stood and took her by the hands, hauling her upward. “Oh, jeez,” Diana muttered looking down at her legs as gravity made the messiness considerably worse. “Hurry! Hurry!” she all but shouted, bouncing from foot to foot and gesturing wildly at the robe.
Orion burst out laughing, tossed the robe around her shoulders, and darted out into the hallway. “All clear, boss!”
She, laughing hysterically now too, ran across the hall and into the bathroom. It was kind of a wonky bathroom, with a slanting ceiling and a skylight, everything down to the bathroom tile in a sickly pink. But it was clean and as Orion cranked the shower knobs, a healthy steam beckoned Diana into the shower.
It was as if someone had pressed pause on her worries. Diana let herself fully enjoy the pounding of the water on her back, his warm, soapy hands that were suddenly everywhere against her. They laughed and scrubbed each other down. When they stepped out, he wrapped her up in a big, fluffy towel while he himself just shook off water droplets like a wolf in the wild.
He led her back to the bedroom and tugged on briefs over his damp skin, dug a t-shirt out of his drawers for her to wear then sat her down on the bed and combed through her hair, searching out her tangles.
Diana let her eyes fall closed as she absorbed the gentle tug of his hands in her hair.
“I can’t remember the last time someone did something like this for me,” she said, humming a bit at the pleasure of being touched like this.
“Brushed your hair?”
“Took care of me.”
“We take care of all the people around us, Diana. But now you get to let me take care of you and I get to let you take care of me.”
“Hmm.” She leaned her weight back into Orion. “I think my mother was the last person I truly let take care of me.”
“Will you tell me a little bit about her?”
Normally she would have refused a request like that. Or she would have fed him some canned answer about how beautiful and charming she was. But right now, her muscles were so relaxed, her skin so warm, his weight so solid behind her that she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.
“She believed in magic, like I told you. But she also kind of was magic.” Diana laughed a little to herself. “Even if you don’t really believe in that kind of thing, she definitely had something going on. Something not quite… explainable.”
“Would she do spells and stuff?”
“Yeah. Little things. Like special teas to drink if I had a fever. Crystals over the door jamb to ward away evil. Stuff like that. But then there was the whole full moon thing.”
She felt him straighten up at her words a bit. She understood why. The man was a shifter for goodness sakes. The full moon was very important to him. “What full moon thing?”
“Well, she really believed that the full moon was the most special time of every month. That it was sacred and needed to be honored.”
“Smart woman.” He paused for a long second, his eyes searching hers. “Was she a shifter?”
“No.” Diana shook her head. “But she had a deep respect for shifters. She was the one who taught me about shifters. One of my earliest memories is of her explaining to me how some people could shift into animals on the full moon and that people who couldn’t do that were often scared of shifters. She explained that it was a beautiful gift to be able to shift. Not just because it’s such a cool phenomenon, but because she truly believed that every person had an animal of some kind deep inside of them, but that shifters were the only ones who could really sh
ow it.”
“Wow.” Orion chuckled. “I’ve never thought of it that way before.” He was done combing her hair and was now just running his fingers through the damp strands, his warm fingers finding her scalp every so often. It was enough to make Diana want to purr. “Do you think that’s true?”
Diana shrugged. “I think it’s a useful way to look at it.”
“What kind of animal do you think is inside of you?”
She cocked her head to one side. “A house cat of course.”
He laughed. “What? Why?”
“You know, moody, aloof.”
He scoffed. “Diana, that’s ridiculous. You’re a total mama bear.”
“You’re saying I would be a bear?”
“No.” His hand was damn close to lulling her to sleep. “I’m just saying that ‘moody and aloof’ are not exactly defining characteristics of who you are. There’s plenty of other things I would put at the top of the list.”
“Oh yeah?” Maybe she was fishing. So, sue her. What was the fun in a conversation like this if you didn’t fish, at least a little.
“Yeah. You’re protective and clever and hard working and talented and stubborn and confident and sensual and mysterious—“
“Sensual and mysterious?” She asked through a laugh. “Pretty sure you’ve only added those to your list due to the fact that we were sixty-nining an hour ago.”
He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a knowing smile. “Diana, you literally believe in magic. What’s more sensual and mysterious than that?”
She could feel the confusion in her own answering smile. “I never said that I believed in magic. I said my mother did.”
His eyebrow raised another inch. “Uh huh,” he said, completely unconvinced.
He rolled them under the covers and Diana let herself be snuggled in, warm and safe. Sleep was imminent, she was sure for both of them. But it was with his words in her head that Diana drifted off. How could he have known that? How could he have seen to the heart of the matter when she herself hadn’t even seen it? Because when she looked at it through his eyes, it seemed perfectly clear to her. Of course she believed the world was full of magic. Just as her mother had. Just because she had a practical job and walked and talked the life of a grown up, sensible woman didn’t mean that deep in her heart, she was still that barefoot little girl dancing in the moon light, waiting to see what possibilities the rising moon brought with it.
***
It was the second time in a week that Dawn found herself outside of Quill’s apartment door. This time, she had much less of a clue as to why she was here.
The first time had been much more simple. She’d suspected that Quill was going through a hard time and she’d done what she would have done with her brothers. She’d inserted herself into his life and she’d made a good faith attempt at distracting him.
She’d called him her friend that night. She hadn’t intended to. In fact, she hadn’t even considered that to be a truth until she’d said the word out loud. Until she’d seen the look on his face upon hearing it. It was in that second that Dawn realized that the word meant as much to him as it did to her.
Ida and Wren had started referring to themselves as Dawn’s friends with such an easy, low maintenance confidence that she’d instantly understood them to be people with lots of friends. The word wasn’t an earthquaker for them. But Quill? He’d looked as shaken to have heard it as Dawn had been to say it.
She’d never really had a friend before. And from the looks of things, it might have been a long time since Quill had one himself.
Dawn had soothed both of them by reading to him, both of them drifting off side by side on his couch. She’d woken up alone around nine am.
A little embarrassed and off-kilter —she hadn’t meant to sleep over— she’d quickly washed up in the bathroom and made her way through the kitchen. There’d been a perfectly wrapped blueberry muffin sitting atop a note.
Thanks for the company -Q
She frowned now when she thought of that note, standing outside Quill’s door again. Reading was a mysterious and magical skill. It had opened up an untold number of doors for Dawn. It was a window into an otherwise incomprehensible world for her. She adored every single book she’d ever read, simply because a book held the answers to all its own questions. Every book was it’s own solvable mystery.
But handwritten notes from someone who already confused you in the first place? That was a whole different kind of reading. He hadn’t used any punctuation. Was she supposed to be reading excitement into it? Thanks for the company! No. That didn’t sound very Quill-like. Or should she be reading sarcasm into it? Thanks for the company. Womp womp. She hoped that wasn’t the way he’d meant it. And for that matter, he hadn’t used a salutation either. Or even bothered to write his full name. She hadn't expected a Your Friend, Quill. Or even a Best Wishes, Quill. But -Q was just confusing.
“You’re here again.”
Dawn jumped and whirled around. He was standing at the top of the stairs in the hallway outside his front door. She’d thought he was inside. Nope. Apparently she’d been so caught up in her thoughts about Quill, she hadn’t even noticed his scent intensifying as he’d approached. But did she notice it now? Definitely. In fact, it was pretty much the only thing she could think about as he walked toward her, stepped past her, and unlocked his door.
His scent was distracting. Like rain on hot pavement. Ice cubes dropped into a cup of tea. Like metal and leaves. He smelled like two different men at once.
“Yes,” Dawn said faintly. “I, uh, came over to talk to you.”
He held the door open for her and closed it behind her once she’d stepped inside. He crossed to his fridge and poured them both glasses of orange juice. He drained his completely, set the glass in the dishwasher and brought hers over to her.
“Something wrong with your phone?”
“Huh?” she asked, staring down at glass of orange juice in her hands. His fingerprints were on the side of the glass. Proof he’d been there. She could smell him and feel the heat from his body, even as he pulled out a chair and sat down three feet from her. All these things were evidence that he was living and breathing and right there. But as he scrubbed his palms over his tired face, Dawn got the distinct feeling she was observing a ghost.
“Is there something wrong with your phone?” he asked again. “Is that why you showed up here to talk instead of calling me?”
“Oh.” Dawn shifted on her feet, feeling distinctly foolish to be standing here in his kitchen, holding a glass of orange juice she was too nervous to drink. How to explain to him why she was here when she wasn’t even sure of the reason herself? “No. My phone’s fine. I just wanted to talk to you in person, I guess.”
His brow furrowed. She saw now just how purple the bags under his eyes were. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out a chair from his table and sat down across from him. She took a long drink of her juice and attempted to ignore the fact that her hand was shaking for some reason. Quill, she saw, did not ignore it. His eyes tracked the tremulous movement of her hand, missing nothing.
“Go ahead.” With his face lined with fatigue and some unnamed worry causing his shoulders to slump, he didn’t exactly look like a receptive audience. But she’d driven all the way over here, hadn’t she?
“Watt came back.”
“What?” He’d all but frozen. He’d been there the night that Watt had attacked Ida. He knew how intense it was for him to show up in their lives again.
“A few days ago. Watt came back, knowing that one of us would likely catch his scent and track him. It was Orion who talked to him.”
“Is he still here? In Portland?”
Dawn shook her head, trying to read Quill’s mood. His adrenaline was clearly up, but he wasn’t moving. “No. He cleared out right after their conversation. Orion says he was… scared. Like he was being hunted or something.”
Quill made an indistinct noise. “What did he say to Orion?”
“He said a few things that we don’t understand. About a program. About a Director.” Dawn shrugged, her eyes dropping to the table. “I’ve been doing some research, trying to find any mention of that in any of the shifter history archives online, but I haven’t had any luck. But that’s not why I came over here.”
Quill waited, not interrupting her, but Dawn got the distinct impression that his mind was racing a mile a minute.
“I came over because Watt told Orion that we shouldn’t trust anyone. Not a single soul.”
Quill stiffened then and leaned back in his chair, his chin tipping up. “You came over here to tell me that you don’t trust me?”
Dawn laughed immediately, caught off guard by the absurdity of that idea. “No! Of course not.” She frowned. “How can I explain this… Right after Orion told me and Phoenix about this whole thing, the three of us made a list of all the people that we could trust. And Diana was on Orion’s list. He left the house to go talk to her, to find her, but by coincidence she was already on our front porch, wanting to talk to him. He picked her up and dragged her through our kitchen, straight up to his room. And… there was something about it. The way they were together…” She was doing a crap job of explaining, she was sure of it. And it wasn’t helped by the burning in her cheeks. For some reason, she was having a very tough time looking at Quill right now. She gulped the rest of her orange juice and was embarrassed by the trembling clack of the empty glass against the table when she set it back down. “I guess something about it just made me want to come over here and talk to you. You think I came over to tell you that I don’t trust you, but really, it’s the opposite.”
She finally looked up at him. That had been a lot for Dawn to say. Even though she was talking way more now than when she had first come to Portland, she still wasn’t used to long speeches. And she definitely wasn’t used to long speeches where she meanderingly tried to figure out her feelings as she went. She usually chose her words carefully, using as few as possible. This conversation felt vulnerable and sloppy and it was almost painful to look at Quill right after she’d finished.