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Ours.
It sort of hits me like a freight train.
There's no fucking logic behind it.
Chemistry thickens the air around us. Something bone deep and primal. I want to bite, claw and maim. But I want to keep. Protect.
I close my eyes, unable to see her face anyway, my own too close, vision blurred, but I know she's looking at me, because I'm touching her. Because I told her to. My grip is tight on the back of her skull, crushing, I can feel it, the pressure in the front of my head where our skulls connect like we're two stones of the same wall collapsed against one another in some semblance of balance.
That's what it feels like.
Support.
It's illogical. The draw I feel. The way the breathy little'oh,'that drops from her throat has my cock pulsing with my entire fucking blood supply. Anger, my number one chosen emotion at all times is nowhere to be found, even as i claw for it, search through my fucking bone marrow, it's as though my body's forgotten how to turn rigid, muscles locking up then loosening before a fight. But that word, the 'oh',has me pulling back. Slow. Gentle. Something I'm not sure I'll be able to show for much longer. I peer into her eyes, these hollow pits of sparkling blue-gray-lilac starbursts. So full, so dead.
Didn't think I'd ever see anyone else with the same gravelike look in their eyes as I did when we were younger. Then, when we were older. A year ago. When Lynx had to go away.
To save him.
A reminder I chant to myself daily. It rattles around my hollowed out insides until there's some sliver of content over the fact we had to send him away. And it's my fault. I didn't havehim under control. Not like I should have. I should have noticed. Paid better attention. I still don't know how I didn't see any of it.
Until it was too late.
This thing inside me, trapped and barred behind the bones inside my chest cavity, hammers against its jail bars. A demand, bone deep, to replace that coldness with something more.
I'm protective of my boys. They of me. But I have never wanted to bring anyone else close.
Until now.
Knowing nothing more about her than she has a pretty name for a dying soul, I already feel like that's enough.
But this shit, right here, this is messy. It's more than a risk, it could be fucking suicide. But I already feel like it's worth it, enough. As I draw back further, taking in air that's not full of her humid, rapid breaths, her eyes flicking between mine. I realize what the soft, breathy'oh'really was for.
Lynx and Rex.
Their hands are all over her wedged between them, their mouths on each other, lazy pulls on each other's tongues. Teeth clashing as they devour each other's lips. Much the same way that I devoured hers.
I let her look, watch them as I watch her, her scalp feeling like fire beneath my knotted fingers in her hair, I tighten my hold. Her dark hair thick, threaded with strands of natural gold, it's like looking at the sun through the shadows.
Unable to resist, I dip my face back down to hers, resting the point of my chin onto Lynx's shoulder, I lick my lips, look up at her through my inky lashes.
“You like that, Princess?” I rumble, knowing smirk flitting to and from my lips before she has a chance to see it.
Her attention returns to me, all small features, fat, swollen lips, dark brows over light eyes. And she nods, breathless, licking her lips, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she glances backat them, Rex's kiss mouthing at her cheekbone as Lynx curls his tongue inside Rex's ear.
“You like watching them?” I ask her huskily, throat thick. She goes to nod her head again and I shake mine, her lips parting, “Words, Princess,” the demand rattles through me, making my fingers tremble against her.
“Yes,” she says immediately, hungry for it, them, me. “Yes, I like watching them.”
“Who? Who d'you like watching?”
“Rex and Lynx,” she spits fast, breathy, heady, the sound going straight to my cock.
Fucking hell, this girl's like a shot of heroin.
I groan at the same time she does, Lynx's tongue in Rex's ear, Rex's tongue in Poppy's, but her eyes are on me.
Only me.
