4. ~Aurora~

4

~Aurora~

I’d had to shower twice just to actually wash tonight off me.

Blood and mud stains could be more than just a little stubborn.

As I stepped out of the shower, I finally felt clean again.

I’d hoped the warm water and the luxurious soaps and shampoos would’ve worked in concert to soothe me as well, to bestow a sense of calm on me that I hadn’t been able to access since all hell had broken loose when those Heretics had attacked the house.

No such luck.

I was still wired.

The guys thought I’d fallen asleep on the hours-long drive back, but I hadn’t.

I’d just closed my eyes, not wanting to talk about what had happened.

Quite the opposite.

I’d wanted to start the whole compartmentalization process of shoving it down deep and sealing it there forevermore with a big, fat, impenetrable lock.

Well, not the part where Asher had pulled me out of that ravine.

Where he’d saved my life.

Where he’d pulled out all the stops and even hurt himself in the process, all to protect me.

No, that was living rent free in my memory, replaying over and over.

The look on his face, an intense mix of balls-to-the-wall determination and naked, all-on-the-line fear.

I’d experienced and seen a lot since I’d started down this dangerous, twisted path three years ago.

But what he’d done… the sheer feat that it was… I’d never seen something quite like that.

It was beyond even mind over matter.

His strength of will was unbelievable.

Completely indomitable.

Absolutely awe-inspiring.

And… shocking.

Because it had been all for me.

I mean, I knew he’d grown to care for me, that there were real, indisputable feelings there.

The way he’d reacted to my confession of growing closer to him, Killian, and Jonah had made that clear, and so had the way he’d come to treat me.

But on that bridge, in those moments, the depth of those feelings on his end had really hit me down deep.

Hell, it had ripped me open.

Ripped me open.

I jolted as I looked in the mirror and blood splatters covered my face, my neck, over the tops of my breasts, down to the edge of the towel wrapped around me.

My eyes were wide and bloodshot, like I was fucking high out of my mind.

And my hands were dripping.

“No,” I gasped, staggering back.

I looked at the floor, but there were no drops of blood there.

I blinked hard and turned my hands over.

Nothing there either. My hands were clean.

I glanced at the mirror again.

There was no blood anywhere. Not on my face, my neck. Nothing.

I sucked in some much-needed air, panting, sweat breaking out on my forehead and the back of my neck. My hands were shaking.

It hadn’t been real.

I’d just imagined it.

I was just freaking out.

It was my mind playing tricks on me.

Punishing me.

Because of what I’d done.

Not on that battlefield. No, that had been different. I’d only done what I’d had to do there.

But in that basement… down there it had been another story.

I hadn’t just responded with an equal show of force.

I hadn’t just been defending myself, or the guys.

I’d taken it much further than that.

Stop. Stop thinking about it.

It was too late.

A flash slammed into me.

A blade sank into flesh, tearing it open.

A throat. It was a throat being sliced into.

Deeper it drove and deeper still.

Blood spurted. Sprayed everywhere.

A gurgled scream sounded.

It dropped out of sight.

But the bloodied blade remained.

My blade.

It was mine.

I’d done this.

And that wasn’t the end of it.

A haze of rage and determination propelled me onward.

Flesh ripping, bones breaking. Shrieks and pleas inundating me.

But I couldn’t stop.

I couldn’t take pity.

I couldn’t show mercy.

They were the enemy.

They were here to hurt me, to hurt my men.

They’d come for us.

All our enemies were monsters.

And you could be nothing less to defeat them.

More! More! More!

Fall! Fall! Fall!

I came out of it to find that I was digging my nails into my palms so harshly that I’d left red raw semi-circles in their wake. I’d only been just shy of drawing blood.

Blood.

“Stop it,” I hissed at myself.

I grabbed another towel off one of the rails and dabbed at my hair, towel-drying it, as I approached the mirror.

I winced at the bruising all over my face, the cuts.

My body hadn’t escaped it either.

But I was honestly lucky that it hadn’t been a whole lot worse, that I hadn’t sustained any severe injuries.

Well, lucky was a stretch.

I’d trained like an obsessed freak for three years to be able to hold my own in situations just like that. I’d really been learning how to fight since I was a tween, but the intensive, harsh and particularly brutal training had only come in the last three years, since my dad had died—well, disappeared and faked his death.

Without all that under my belt, I wouldn’t have even made it out of that basement.

My pride that I’d been able to beat back those masks and handle myself alongside the likes of Asher and Jonah, and the fact that we’d accomplished what we’d set out to do earlier, was muted by the guilt trying to dig its claws into me for the merciless way I’d dealt with those bastards in that basement.

No, not just guilt.

Worry.

Worry about what it meant that I’d… liked it.

That bloodlust driving me, that all-encompassing need that came along with it.

That taste of power. Not just a little bit of power, but ultimate power—holding lives in the palm of your hand.

And the euphoric sensation of having the means to inflict pain and—stop!

I finished drying my hair, then hung the towel back up, and headed on out of the ensuite bathroom, back into my bedroom. Not your bedroom, the guestroom.

I was about to start for the dresser to grab some pajamas when the sight of the bed pulled me up short.

There Buster was tucked up in the covers. Like, literally, the covers tucked up to his chin and his head on one of the pillows.

Not where I’d left him on the desk beside the bed.

Then in the middle of the bed were my black silky lounge shorts and my lacy cropped tank laid out, along with a pair of my fluffy pink socks that I’d thought I’d left at my house. And my bubblegum pink super fluffy bathrobe was also there arranged neatly with the rest.

“Killian,” I breathed, a stupid smile spreading over my face.

My phone was buzzing like crazy on the bedside table.

I rounded the bed and took in the sight of a water bottle with two pills beside it. There was a note there with my name scrawled across it. I picked it up and opened it.

Princess,

Saw you take some hits out there tonight.

Figured you could be needing something to take the edge off.

They’ll help you sleep too. Tonight was a lot, I know. You handled it like a sexy fucking badass, though. Never doubted it.

Get some rest.

Jonah. XOXO.

That stupid smile from a moment ago took me over once again.

Jeez,these guys.

Before I could absorb it fully, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Soft? That didn’t really fit with any of them.

I crossed the room and opened the door, surprised to find one of the security guys standing there. Actually, the Head of Security, Bryce.

His hulking form filled the doorway. His platinum blond buzz cut was a stark contrast to his all-black ensemble, tactical pants and a long-sleeve tee.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“The boss wanted to ensure this reached you promptly,” he said, before removing his hands from behind his back and producing a bottle of tequila and a fancy crystal glass.

“Asher,” I breathed.

“Yes, Miss Blackthorn. He sends his regards.”

As I took them from him, I mused aloud, “This is a strange task to assign to you. You’re not housekeeping.” He was Asher’s most trusted security member.

“Well, I was just in his room discussing something. He had them there. He wanted to deliver them himself, but he wasn’t up to it. Rather than waiting until tomorrow, he insisted you weren’t to wait. He thought it might help you sleep after what you endured tonight.”

I felt my cheeks heat at his words, words that Asher had clearly made him say, given the awkward look on his face.

I spared him any further discomfort and told him, “Thank you, Bryce. I really appreciate it.”

“Have a good night.”

“You too.”

As he took off down the corridor, I closed the door to the bedroom and walked back to the bed. I put the tequila and the glass down on the nightstand, then snatched my phone up and sank back onto the bed.

I started at the time on the screen.

I’d been in the shower for over an hour. Jeez.

I opened the notifications, a bunch of texts I’d missed in that time.

Killian: How’s it going? All cleaned up? Feel better?

Killian: Want me to read you a bedtime comic?

Asher: Killian is in your room. If he’s bothering you, just say the word.

Jonah: Gonna come by and drop something off for you. Cool?

Killian: Guess you’re still in the shower. I’m gonna crash. Have a good night.

Jonah: You all right?

Asher: Jonah’s in there now. Want them leashed?

Jonah: Just dropped something off for you. Hope it helps.

I chuckled to myself.

Despite the invasiveness of it, it was sweet at its heart.

These guys weren’t exactly conventional, which actually made these thoughtful acts all the more endearing.

I texted Jonah and Killian back, thanking them for their gifts—and Killian for taking care of Buster. I smiled as I imagined his face while reading my message when he woke up tomorrow.

I went to text Asher next, but then pulled up short.

Bryce’s words rolled over me.

“He wanted to deliver them himself, but he wasn’t up to it.”

That meant he was hurting.

Because of me.

Because he’d saved me.

It didn’t sit well with me in the least.

Neither did the fact that he should’ve been asleep ages ago, given the painkillers that Jonah had handed him to take the edge off his shoulder. Had he not taken them then? Was he working? Researching after what happened tonight, the surprise that had come our way? Was he in obsessive mode again when he needed to be taking it easy, at least for one fucking night?

I put my phone down and shed my towel, then hurriedly dressed.

I grunted throughout as my bruised and battered body protested my jerky, uneasy movements. Yeah, I needed to rest too, but not as much as Asher.

I left my socks and the bold pink bathrobe, because that wouldn’t mesh well with Asher, like it did with Killian. He wouldn’t get that part of me like Killian did. He’d want to tamper it down. And I’d been all for that too at first. I’d even told Killian that when he’d found out about it. But after what had happened earlier, maybe I needed to hold onto that. Maybe it was the only thing that would stop me from becoming irreparably twisted and… and… beyond redemption.

I swallowed that thought down, then took the meds Jonah had left me with a gulp of water. In the absence of rest, they’d at least take the edge off until I could take care of Asher.

Aurora: I’m coming over.

I locked my phone, then stepped out into the corridor and made my way to his room.

The lock disengaged just before I reached the door. Always on the ball.

I pushed it open and stepped inside.

As it closed behind me, I took in the sight of him sitting propped up in bed with his pillows. His right arm was in a sling and he had a book in his other. Anna Karenina. He was shirtless, all that hard muscle, those glorious abs, and those sexy, yet creepy tattoos on display, the bed covers down just past the waistband of his black boxers.

Just the sight of him had my core clenching. And the memory of how he’d not only pulled me up one-handed with a freaking dislocated shoulder, but also rammed it back into place against a tree right afterward. I mean… what the ever-loving hell was that? Was he even human? It should’ve been purely a dire situation, but somehow it had turned me on. In a way I wasn’t used to as well. In some kind of… twisted way.

He eyed me over the top of his book, concern dancing in his sexy silver eyes. Thankfully, it managed to pull me from my quickly overheating state. “What’s happened?” he asked. “Did the doctor miss something when they treated you earlier? Is it the boys? The invasion of privacy? You want me to—”

“No, it’s all fine.” I started. “Wait. Invasion of privacy? You actually recognize that term?”

“Well, from your perspective,” he said with a tilt of his lips.

I chuckled. “I see.” As I walked to the bed, I gestured at his book. “Fiction? Aren’t you the non-fiction, military and warfare textbook and history book type?”

“When I want to clear my head, I dabble in a little fiction.”

“Not the light kind either. That book is kind of heavy.”

“As light as it gets for me, I’m afraid,” he said, reaching out and putting it down on his nightstand.

As I followed his movements, I saw two pills beside a bottle of water. Jonah’s handiwork.

I strode over there and pointed at them vehemently.

He smirked up at me. “Yes?”

I rolled my eyes. “Take them, you ass.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Bullshit, huh?”

“That’s right. I know you’re in pain. Bryce said you weren’t able to deliver that bottle of tequila to me yourself.”

“Maybe I was demonstrating how a gentleman should deliver a gift to you, rather than simply barging into your room like the other two did.”

“And you know what makes a gentleman?”

“I have my moments.”

“Yeah, actually, you do.”

“Is that what you want?”

I stared back at him.

He wasn’t teasing this time or being a sarcastic shit. He was genuinely asking, wanting to know.

“What I want is for you to take care of yourself. Down these pills and get some sleep so you can heal.”

“Given the way I feel right now, they’ll knock me out.”

“Exactly the point. The doctor said it’s fine for you to sleep. Despite you hitting your head and losing consciousness, he said it was the brutal jolt of the impact to your body, not the mark of a severe head injury. You don’t have a concussion. If you did, I don’t doubt that Jonah would be here with you watching you like a hawk.”

“I don’t do well with a lot of sleep.”

“I’ll be able to sleep longer with you here.”

His words from the night I’d managed to get him to rest last time rolled over me.

I watched him fiddling with his black beaded bracelet.

“Is it nightmares?” I asked.

He stared at me, his jaw working.

A struggle was taking place.

I waited with bated breath for him to tell me, to let me in, even just a little.

But then he released his bracelet and shifted his weight in bed, wincing as he inadvertently put pressure on his injured shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I did.”

“No, you deflected. It wasn’t a direct answer.”

“Fine. Humor me with the meds and I’ll give you your answer.”

When I saw him moving to protest, I laid my hand on his good left one. It had his gaze snapping right to mine. “I’ll stay with you tonight.”

His mesmerizing silver eyes burned into mine, delving deep.

And I let him do it this time.

I let him see into me.

The next thing I knew, he was reaching out and waving his hand over the nightstand.

With a bunch of fancy finger movements, they were gone.

Him and his magic.

“Where are they? Did you seriously—”

He tapped my bralette. “If you will.”

“What—” I peered inside the cup he’d touched and there, down the side were the two pills. “How the hell?”

“I’m that good, sweetheart.”

He grinned as I handed them to him, and then he popped them into his mouth. He swallowed them down without the need for water, then rested his head back against his pillows.

“Now, pay up,” he said, with a smirk. “And you’d better get under the covers soon, or my control will snap. It’s already currently compromised by my weary and pained state.”

“What are you talking—”

“That,” he said, gesturing the length of me. “Coming into my room in a bra and a tiny pair of shorts.”

I pulled away and looked down at my clothes. “It’s not a bra. It’s a bralette, and it’s a matching sleep set, not a lingerie set.”

“Either way, it’s had my cock hard the second you walked in here. And that’s with me being in pain, weary, and pissed off that I’m in this state to begin with. You should’ve just come in here with that Barbie-pink bathrobe.”

He knew about that after all.

Off my obvious curious look, he told me, “I was watching the security feeds earlier, keeping an eye on Killian when he left the mansion. I’ve got a couple at your house now and I saw him enter, then leave a few moments later with it slung over his shoulder.” He smiled to himself with amusement. “He’s really smitten with you. And the endearing thing is, I don’t think you realize just how much you have him wrapped around your little finger. It’s unintentional on your part. You’re just being you, not manipulating it or trying to make him fall so fucking hard.”

“Is that entirely all about Killian?”

He stared at me for a moment, right into my eyes in that invasive way of his that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end and my blood heating at the same time. It was as unnerving as it was exhilarating.

Good slamming up against bad.

Hot slamming up against cold.

Back and forth without respite.

It was how it was with us.

Maddening.

It was why his next word was so utterly and completely shocking. “No.”

His response was merely a single word.

Hell, a single syllable at that.

But it said so much.

More than I’d thought he’d actually be able to admit.

Not just because of the risk involved and the vulnerability that inevitably came along with something like that, but because I’d suspected he hadn’t even reconciled it yet to be able to recognize it and establish where things were when it came to how he felt with me.

I know I hadn’t yet. I mean, I’d admitted what I considered the bare minimum, that there was something there for him, for all three of them, actually. But I hadn’t allowed myself to define it in any real shape or form.

But I wanted to now. I was ready to at least start.

What he’d done for me on that bridge had been the catalyst, something completely beyond ignoring or just burying and compartmentalizing away with so much else.

“Hmm,” I said.

“Hmm? Is that all I get, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” I teased.

His good left hand shot out and he grasped my wrist, jerking me against the side of the bed. “Aurora.”

He was getting agitated. He’d put himself out there, more than he was ever used to doing, and he thought it had been a waste, because he figured I wasn’t gonna give him anything back.

He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

I eased his hand off my wrist and held it on my palm. Stroking his fingers and holding his rapt attention at the same time, I looked to see him frowning in confusion, trying to figure me out. “Some abstract notion of a Prince Charming means nothing to me and what we’re doing here, what we’re caught up in, it leaves no room for that anyway. It’s too hardened, dangerous, and twisted for that.”

“You’d be surprised what I can bring into being through sheer force of will.”

I chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”

He fingers squeezed mine. He looked… concerned? Sad for me. “Things aren’t in a fixed state, Aurora. They can reform, evolve.”

“They can be the stuff of dreams, huh? All unicorns and rainbows?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“I don’t… I don’t deserve that.” I pulled my hand from his.

“Of course you deserve that from me, from all of us. You’re ours now, sweetheart.”

“I’m not… I’m not good….” I trailed off, grimacing.

“Aurora?”

“Are you ever afraid of it?”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid of all the dark becoming… of it… swallowing you? Kind of… losing control of it?”

“I don’t have that luxury.”

“But, are you concerned that—”

“Sometimes.”

I looked back at him and immediately wished I hadn’t.

I swallowed hard at the intensity radiating between us.

Shit. I was regretting mentioning it at all. Especially to him, the master of the dark, the king of wielding it to maximum gain and effect.

“This is about what happened in that basement, yes?”

I stilled. “How do you—”

“I accessed the security cameras.”

What?They were still operational? Why?

Before I could ask, he went on, “I saw what transpired, Aurora.”

“But… why were you checking the cameras?”

“To see if any of the Heretics dropped their masks at any point so I could ID them.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, that makes sense. Of course.”

“You’re redirecting,” he spoke. “And not very well, I might add. Not up to your usual standard at all, which leads me to believe you’re panicking.”

Damn him. “What I did… I didn’t mean to take things that far.”

“You mean, to actually enjoy it.”

“No!” I cried. “That’s not what I—”

“You were off-kilter when they hit. In a state of shock, actually.”

I stared at him.

“After you mistook Olivia for your mother? Then the revelation about your mother and my father enjoying a twisted fling of some sort?”

I held up my hand, only just stopping myself from making a gagging noise. “I know what the revelations were.”

And I hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface of processing any of that yet.

“You’re making excuses for me. Why?”

“Because you obviously need me to. But you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t be afraid of what you are, especially not that part of you. You shouldn’t be ashamed of that delectable darkness, that thrill of the depravity of it all, that you like it when things get twisted, that you thirst for the power it brings with it.”

“Stop.”

“Hurt. Dominate. Punish. Get off on the violence and pain. Take pleasure in it. Own its power, little beast.”

I hissed through my teeth.

And then I was pouncing on the bed and straddling him over the covers, my hands slapping down either side of his head on the headboard.

He tipped his head back to meet my eyeline.

It was like he was stripping me naked as his gaze roamed over my body, and heat rolled through me. I longed to rub my thighs together to alleviate some of the hot need burning there.

“That merciless, untamed, and boundless part of you meshes so well with the monster in me,” he uttered on a hoarse rasp as he stared up at me, his eyes threatening to set me alight with the flames of hellfire dancing in them. “Don’t be ashamed of who you are. You’re a world apart when you let it all go and just be.” He reached out and tucked some stray strands of my hair behind my ear. “Just. Like. Me.”

“A world apart?” I breathed, turning into his touch, even the brush of his fingers in my hair sparking all my nerve endings to life.

The gentle went away in the next moment and he grasped my jaw. “There’s nothing quite like having you unleashed in all your fucking glory.”

I ran my fingers down his shoulder, over his sling. “You’re hurting for me.”

“I couldn’t exactly leave you to tumble to your death now, could I?”

“You went above and beyond.”

“I’d do nothing less when you’re mine.”

I sank my fingers into his hair and breathed him in. “Asher.”

He grasped my jaw harder, watching me with hooded eyes.

“Say it. Say you’re ours.”

“I am,” I breathed, my thighs tightening around him as the heat became too much. “I’m yours.”

In the next second, he released my jaw, then his hand was delving deep into my hair and he had me hissing as he used it as a handle to jerk me down to him.

Our mouths clashed violently.

Tongues swirling.

Teeth gnashing.

Lips biting.

It was so fucking wild and completely out of control.

I tugged at his hair, hard enough that I knew it must’ve hurt. But I couldn’t be gentle for the life of me, and his sexy groan made it clear he was more than fine with that.

I couldn’t keep still as his mouth devoured mine, eating me alive.

My hands slid from his hair, down his chest, over his scars, along his sling, around to his back, then I was fisting them in the waistband of his boxers, tugging and digging my nails in, while I rolled my hips against his hard cock through the covers.

It wasn’t enough.

Nowhere near.

I ripped my mouth from his, panting, my entire body flooding with heat, making me almost feverish with it.

And desperate.

So fucking desperate to have more of him.

I pushed up for a second and ripped the covers off him, and then I yanked his boxers down.

His cock bounced free, hard, thick, and so intimidatingly huge.

The damn thing was a menacing beast.

And I was more than ready to slay it.

I swept down and flicked his crown with the tip of my tongue and I watched, mesmerized as his cock thickened. I grasped his base, then lapped at the underside of the head, before sucking it into my mouth, swirling my tongue around, growing wilder and wilder, before I then dove down and drove him right to the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and I looked up to see him throwing his head back in rapture.

I swallowed hard around my mouthful of cock, making him jolt.

I did it again and again, sexy groans spilling from him and making me drip into my shorts.

They were just so guttural and masculine, so damn hot.

I lost myself to them, to the taste of him, needing desperately to please him and wrench more of those animalistic sounds out of him, and my pace became crazy and maddening. I dug my nails into his ass as I swallowed his cock down to the root, relishing the feel of it hitting the back of my throat, of the loss of control it promised, the sensation of having my airflow restricted, of choking on my mouthful of him.

“Jesus… fuck,” he cried, as I slurped, sucked, and rammed him down my throat over and over, becoming completely unhinged, completely lost to it.

Pre-cum exploded on my tongue and I drank it down greedily.

“Turn around,” he rasped. “Give me your cunt.”

I ripped my mouth off his cock, grazing my teeth along his shaft in the process.

“Motherfucking yes!” he cried, bucking wildly.

Before he could catch his breath, I jerked my shorts down and tossed them hell knew where across his room.

Then I slid my body along his, feeling his wet cock dragging along my breasts, my stomach, then nestling right where it belonged between my thighs, as I grasped the headboard above Asher’s head.

I rolled my hips and eased down a little so that his crown dragged through my slick folds.

“Aurora,” he hissed. “Let me taste you.”

“Mmm, unbelievably tempting, but no.”

“You know I can’t move well enough to—”

“Exactly. You’re gonna relax there and let me please you.” I leaned in and breathed in his ear, “Let me fuck your black soul to oblivion.”

“Jesus.”

I licked his throat, all the way up to his chin, and I smirked slyly at the damning look in those sexy eyes.

I grinned at him, getting off on his reaction.

I nipped at his jaw, then trailed my tongue lower, across his clavicle, to his left pec, teasing his nipple with swirling licks and bites that had him shuddering.

When I raked my nails down his abs, he cursed in twisted delight and bucked his hips, his cock slipping past my opening.

“God!” I cried at the feel of him stretching me.

I slapped my hands to his hips, holding him down.

And then I locked my dark gaze with his as I slid down onto his monster cock, inch by excruciating inch.

He was gritting his teeth, his jaw working, his eyes on fire.

It burned all the way down, his thickness splitting me open, demanding more and more from me, wanting to tear into me, wanting to leave its mark of undeniable possession.

It was utterly consuming.

All I was aware of was the fullness.

Of him and me.

Him so deep inside me, I could feel him with every stilted breath I took.

“The way your tight cunt strangles my cock… fucking shit,” he choked, his eyes glazed, utterly beside himself.

At my mercy.

God, it was exhilarating, a really heady sensation.

All that power of his and now here he was all mine for the taking.

Even with the sling, in his injured state, I knew it was still a choice on his part.

He could’ve taken control back. He could’ve been dead set on topping me, on exerting control and power over me.

But he’d chosen not to.

He was gifting me this.

Allowing me to take him as I saw fit.

He wanted to see what I’d do, how far I’d take it.

Or maybe it was because he was desperate for me to take his cock like this again, so he was open in ways he normally wouldn’t be, he was willing to compromise because he needed it so badly. I frowned. But if that was the heart of it, I didn’t want it.

That cheapened it.

It was much more to me.

I slapped one hand down on the headboard, and cupped his face with the other. “I wanted you to fuck me that night you stopped me from going after Liza.”

His eyes shone back at me. “Yeah?”

“I might’ve played with myself when I went to bed that night imagining you railing me up against the trees.”

“Played with yourself, huh?”

“That’s right,” I said, slowly sliding up and down his cock, getting used to him and teasing us both at the same time.

“And how do you do that?” His fingers were gliding through my folds in the next moment, making me jolt in surprise. “All soft a slow?” he said, circling my clit in the next moment and lightly brushing his thumb over it, eliciting soft moans from me. “I highly doubt it. This is more your speed, isn’t it?” He slapped my pussy, making me cry out at the burning sting. He did it again and I bucked on his cock, then slammed down right to the base. We both cried out at that. “Yeah, there it is,” he said, dragging his fingers through my wetness, using his nails to add a harsh sting. “You like it a whole lot rougher.” His fingers became vibrating forces of motion all over my pussy. “A whole lot harder.” He slapped me right on my clit, and I jolted, rising up on his cock.

The friction was so amazing, I started riding him hard.

Roughly.

Almost violently.

Bearing down on him and swiveling my hips as I drove him so deep, it hit that perfect spot deep inside. “Shit. The way you fill me, it’s like I can feel you everywhere.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been craving my cock, little beast?” he asked in that dark, playful tone, rising to it.

“Craving it. Dreaming about it. Salivating over it. Whichever you like the sound of best.”

“All,” he gritted out against my wild riding. “All fucking three.” He threw his head back. “That’s right, fuck that hot, wet cunt. Hurt for me. Scream for me. Come for me… all over my big fat cock. Ungh… fuck. Fuck, Aurora.”

God, the look on his face was so raw, so open. He was right on the edge, trying to hold out.

“Let it go,” I breathed, pleasure about to crash into me and rip me apart at the seams.

I squeezed his cock inside me as I continued fucking him like a wild, unhinged thing.

He roared out into the room and fisted my hair, then jerked me to him, his mouth all over my throat, the tops of my breasts, biting my nipples through my top.

I arched my back, moans becoming screams as he marked me all over, the ferocious possessiveness of it turning me on in a way I didn’t fully understand, that I couldn’t comprehend the depths of. I was getting off on it in some kind of twisted way, knowing the danger it brought along with it, the challenge he was laying down, the unyielding claim.

“God, Asher!” I cried out in bliss at the overstimulation. It touched me everywhere. “Please… come inside me.”

He pulled his mouth back and stared at me, his eyes turning black.

That look… it took me over the edge and I was screaming out in the next moment as ecstasy tore through me and I came all over his cock.

He jerked me to him by my hair and held me there, shuddering against him.

Hot liquid spilled inside me as he followed me over the edge. The sensation, his guttural grunts, the way he was holding me so intensely, his hand shaking with the vehemence of it… it had me shrieking into his chest and coming again, convulsing against him.

“Oh shit,” I gasped, clutching him, trying to catch my breath and recoup my sanity.

In my pleasure daze, it took me a moment to realize that he was nuzzling my neck and softly—sweetly, incredibly—stroking my back.

“All right, sweetheart?”

“Mmm, perfect.”

He chuckled. “Perfect? Very good.”

For the first time since I’d taken things to a sexual place tonight, he rolled his hips.

“God!” I cried, jolting as he teased my really oversensitive and more than just a little sore walls.

“Round Two? This time I’ll fuck you on your hands and knees and stuff my fingers deep in your hot little ass, then—”

“Asher—”

“No? How about I… I’ll…”

He trailed off, his eyelids drooping.

I felt his hold loosening, his body weakening against me.

“No Round Two. You need to sleep now.”

He released me and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That sly bastard. Those meds weren’t mild, like he’d claimed. He’s trying to put me out.” He blinked hard, but it did nothing to clear his glazed eyes. “More like ensuring it. Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t fight it. Let it come. You need your rest. Really badly, Asher.”

I pushed off him, the both of us groaning as his cock slipped from me.

I reached over to his nightstand and pulled some tissues from the box there. I wiped us both clean, snatched my shorts off the floor and pulled them on.

“I need a smoke,” he murmured.

“No.”

“What was that?” he tried to snap, but his voice was weak, the meds, the fuck, and his sheer exhaustion all working in concert to pull him under.

“You heard me. All you can do now is close your eyes and fall asleep.”

He cursed under his breath as he jerked his boxers back up with some struggle with only being able to use one hand.

His sleepy gaze followed me as I climbed back onto the bed, then reached over him, and started adjusting his pillows. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you comfortable,” I answered.

I managed to adjust them so that he could half lie down, half sit, in a way that didn’t aggravate or put any pressure on his injured right shoulder.

“Aurora—”

“Shh. Sleep,” I said, as I turned off his bedside lamp and the room descended into darkness.

I slipped into the bed beside him and turned onto my side to check that he was actually settling.

The moment I did, his left arm came around me and pulled me close, his hand splaying on my lower back. “Always challenging me,” he murmured.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t get under my skin so much,” I said with a chuckle.

He shifted right up against me, apparently needing to be closer still. “It’s not a bad thing… the challenge.”

“It’s not, huh?” I teased, staring into his sleepy eyes that were so vibrant and all-encompassing that they even cut through the dark.

“No,” he murmured. “There’s nothing bad about you.” I started in surprise as he nuzzled my hair. “Don’t leave, sweetheart.”

“I won’t,” I said, settling into his embrace, getting comfortable for the night. “I promised you I’d stay with you tonight.”

“Not just tonight. Just… don’t leave. Promise… promise me?”

I sucked in a breath, the emotion in his voice, his need, hitting me deep. “Asher, I—”

My words caught in my throat when I looked to see he’d fallen asleep.

I frowned as I took him in.

Those raw words, the vulnerability he’d put out there.

I mean, there was no way I could even imagine him doing that under normal circumstances when his head was clear and he wasn’t wounded and battling exhaustion. But the fact that the sentiment was there at all for him to have put it out there… that was the part that had me sitting up and taking notice.

Well, not literally.

No, literally, I was beyond needing rest too. That rough and wild fucking had zapped the last vestiges of my energy.

I sank into Asher’s warmth and stared out at him.

“Not just tonight. Just… don’t leave. Promise… promise me?”

I hadn’t promised.

Sure, he’d fallen asleep, so I hadn’t been able to.

But would I have?

When all this was said and done, when the mission was over, the war was won, and I had my dad back, would I just walk away?

I hadn’t thought about it in a definitive way.

I’d originally intended to leave Hexwood as soon as I was done. It had been simple then. Find my dad, bring him home. End of story.

But that straightforward path had been twisted into an unidentifiable one now. It barely even resembled its original construction.

Because I hadn’t seen this coming.

I hadn’t seen them coming.

Bonding with them.

Growing closer to them.

Becoming a part of them.

And worse, them becoming a part of me.