Chapter 7

Atlas

The next morning, I'm up early, as usual. I make coffee and wonder what Ivy likes. Does she eat breakfast in the morning? How does she like her coffee? What if she doesn't drink coffee and only likes tea? That makes me wonder if we even have tea in the house, so I go on a search through the cupboards and ruminate on the night before.

I was hard as a rock when I slipped from the bedroom after making her come twice.

"Get some sleep," I'd told her after, though she was almost there already. Touching her, hearing those breathy moans, making her come, the taste of her on my fingers, it took everything in me not to bury myself inside her to complete the bond, to claim her as mine with more than words.

Despite all the pent-up need and desire pushing me in that direction, I need her mentally ready for it. After the incitare is achieved, the gratus is going to take everything. She needs to be with me, because we are endgame, not a one-night stand. And I know that was exactly where her head was at with the stress she was trying to corral.

"Good morning."

I turn toward her, and the sight of her sends heat straight to my balls. She's standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the foyer in my t-shirt—the one I was wearing yesterday—the hem of which reaches the top of her thighs. Some of her hair is twisted up into a messy bun so it sticks out from her head. I swallow thinking about hearing her come the night before and suddenly needing her pussy squeezing my twitching cock.

I take a deep breath, grasping for control.

She notices me looking at my t-shirt. "I hope it's okay?" She pulls it out at the sides, and I catch sight of purple lace in between her legs. Then she lifts the edge of the shirt to smell the fabric, showing off those lacy panties. She hums at the smell and my cock hardens. "You left it, and I didn't want to get dressed yet."

I nod as I imagine grabbing hold of her, plopping her on the island, shoving those purple panties to the side and ramming into her. I blink to reset.

"Coffee?" I force out the question. It sounds more like a growl.

"Fuck, yes," she says and smiles so that her green eyes pop with vibrant color. She walks the rest of the way into the kitchen until she's standing next to me. "Maybe you have an intravenous option?" she asks and tilts her chin up to meet my gaze.

"Just cups. Sorry," I say.

Her grin fades. "So about last night?—"

Shit, I think, though I expected it. My instincts are usually right, and I figure she's about to backtrack, to be unnerved by the experience. It was exactly why I didn't fuck her. "What about it?"

"I got a bit caught up, and well, I'm… I shouldn't have used you like that."

"You didn't." Used me? I want to fucking laugh, but I don't think it will go over very well. I fucking owned that shit, though listening to her come apart sort of backfired, and I had to take myself in hand after to alleviate my own need. "No more than I wanted."

And as much as I want to bend her over the counter and remind her of last night's lesson, she doesn't know what she's getting into. She deserves to understand that. Neither of us can avoid the bond—that's already been sparked—but technically, she doesn't have to choose me. She could walk away, but fuck I don't want her to. I want what comes from being incitare with my calix. My parents had that. My grandparents. It's why I haven't just settled, why my brothers haven't settled. We're waiting for the real thing.

"Truthfully, I kind of freaked out this morning," she says, plucking at the t-shirt that I really want to fucking take off her. I don't think she's wearing a bra, her nipples pebbled underneath.

My mouth waters. "Why? You haven't ever hooked up with someone before?"

She swallows and watches the coffee dripping into the carafe. "I mean, yes, but no."

"No?" I tilt my head, trying to get a read on her.

She won't meet my gaze.

In the last several hours, I've learned some things about Ivy. She's fiercely independent. She loves her sister unselfishly and unconditionally. She is a bundle of energy and doesn't always have an outlet, and she likes to be in control, but gets off on losing it. So her avoidance tells me a story: she's afraid of me, or maybe not of me, but of the way I make her feel.

But then, she doesn't understand this is the way of the sereph. It's going to be up to me to show her.

I lean down to catch her eye. "No?"

She finally connects with me, and opens her mouth to say something, but then it catches on whatever thought she's got rolling around to discredit it. Instead, she closes her mouth and offers a haphazard grin to disarm me.

I'm not disarmed.

"Freaked out?" I grab hold of her, lifting her, and she makes a cute sound, grabbing hold of my shoulders. When I set her on the island, I'm telling myself I'm not going to fulfill the vision I had earlier. We're eye level, and I catch a loose tendril of her hair and smooth it away under my palm. "Because of what we did?"

She shakes her head.

I step deeper between her spread thighs and grab her hips, yanking her closer, so she can feel my rigidity. Her lips part, then she sighs as if this touch has brought her relief. "Because of how I touched you?"

She shakes her head again. "No. I… liked that."

I squeeze the tops of her thighs, and she finally slides her hands down over my chest and pinches my shirt, drawing me closer still. "Then?"

"It was so fucking good. And I barely know you. I've had one-night stands, but they have never been that satisfying. They've just been a way to quiet—" She stops herself.

"There's a lot to unpack there."

She nods looking down at her hands holding onto my shirt. "I know."

I really want to kiss her, but I know I won't be able to stop, and my brothers are almost here. I lean into her and kiss her cheek, instead, inhaling her heady scent. "I want to talk about all of this. What you're trying to quiet. Why I blew your mind." I grin.

She smiles back, finally.

"My brothers—" I start to tell her they're coming up the drive, only the front door opens, and they're already traipsing into the kitchen before I can finish the thought. Rome, Luka, Samson, and Tate are squished together in the opening of the kitchen, their dark eyes jumping between me to Ivy, who's wearing my shirt, her shapely legs on display.

"Right," she says, as she slides from the countertop, the t-shirt catching the lace of her panties. I reach out and smooth it over her ass. "Telepathy," she mutters.

Samson sniggers and looks at me with a sparkle. Rome's lips quirk up a touch. It doesn't happen often since he's usually so serious. Luka looks normal, unfazed. Tate's standing there with his eyebrows high on his forehead. Usually, I'd be right in the thick of things with them, only now, I'm just annoyed.

You could have fucking told me,I tell them through the link.

Samson snuffs a laugh through his nose. harder. That wouldn't have been as much fun.

Ivy reaches into the still-open cupboard for a coffee cup, and the t-shirt rises, showing off her ass and those lacy panties. Samson's voice quiets, and I hear Tate: Damn. I maneuver myself between her and my brothers' gazes, suddenly jealous, even though I know that none of them would ever overstep in that way. The possessive nature of the bond doesn't differentiate between an actual and a perceived threat, so a sound fills my chest and growls at them as Ivy pours herself a cup of coffee.

Tate barks a laugh at my expense, and Samson saunters in, leaning over the counter, grinning widely. "So. This must be the calix," he says.

Ivy turns and eyes him. "Ivy. Ivy Day." Then she looks at me and asks, "Is there milk or cream for the coffee?"

I yank open the refrigerator door and grab the creamer from inside, then hand it to her. I'd like to fight all my brothers and yell at them to get the hell out, but they already know this and will use it to torment me.

She's hot,Tate tells all of us.

Stop looking,I snap.

"Ivy. Ivy. Ivy," Sampson repeats.

"I sure am glad we made it to the cyclopia in time," Luka says, keeping his eyes on the floor. My one good brother.

"Me too," she says, dribbling in some cream as if she has all the time in the world and is standing there in her church-day best. "If Atlas had told me you were already here," she says as she hands the creamer back to me, "I would have been more presentable to meet his brothers."

Oh. She's pissed.

"They lied about where they were," I mutter.

Samson outright laughs now.

Ivy, not amused, levels them with a gaze that shrivels my balls, and she's not even looking at me. Their faces straighten. "Maybe you were trying to cause trouble for your brother," she says. "But at whose expense?" Their faces redden, and with her coffee, she traipses through their cluster of bodies and descends the stairwell.

"I want one of those," Luka says, and turns back toward me.

"Sorry. I should have given you the heads up. It was Samson's idea." Tate, the youngest Black, points at the one smack dab in the middle.

"You fucking snitch," Samson snaps and launches from where's he's standing, tackling Tate to the ground. They roll and Luka steps over them.

"I told them it was a bad idea," the second oldest says.

"You think?" I ask. "Now I'm going to fucking have to clean that shit up, and I was finally getting somewhere."

"She was standing there in your t-shirt. You didn't seal the bond?" Rome asks, frowning.

I make a frustrated noise. "I told you. She doesn't know anything, bro. Well… some now, but I can't just fucking jump her and force her into that shit. What the fuck?"

Rome nods. "You're right."

"And you're all fucking here—" I kick Samson's ass so he'll let go of Tate, who he has him in a chokehold. He lets Tate go. "You're here to help."

"We're here," Samson says, standing and dusting himself off.

Tate coughs. "Fucker," he says, slugging Samson in his beefy arm.

"Ivy's sister has been abducted."