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“Fuck, yes,” he rasps against my ear, and lifts his hands to show me their slick surface, rubbing his fingers together. Painting circles on my clit, he spreads that wetness he’s worked up and grinds his hips into my backside.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Titus put his hands to his face, sucking me off his fingers. The sight of which, has my belly contracting with the pulsing at my core.
Leaving my mouth, he climbs over top of me, forcing me to release his cock, and buries his face between my thighs, sucking at my swollen flesh, as if he’s ravenous for more. He’s a man of few words, but his exuberance says it all.
I cry out, slamming my thighs against his ears and run my fingers over his hair. “Let’s pretend. Let’s just pretend.”
“Pretend?”
With a nudge to his shoulders, I urge him up on his knees where I take hold of his cock. I run his tip over my still-slick seam and watch his eyes roll back. He thrusts his hips in the motions of sex, while I hold his cock against my flesh, letting it slide over my skin. Fingers tight around his thick shaft, I squeeze with every thrust into my palm.
“Imagine filling me, Titus. Think of how good it would feel. The relief we’d both feel.”
“You’re killing me. Goddamn it, I can’t take this anymore.”
“Then, do it. Fuck me.”
My words seem to send a shiver down his spine, and he falls forward, catching himself on his arms. “I could. I could fuck you so hard right now.”
His jaw tightens, veins popping out of his neck, as his hand covers mine, guiding my strokes, squeezing harder than before. Licking his lips, he palms my crown with one hand, both of us stroking him, while his hips pound against me. Faster and faster.
Warm fluids coat my fingers, and he pushes up to direct his release across my bare stomach, which oozes down my sides. Eyes on him, as he bangs out the last of his release, I run my fingers across the slickness and suck it off my skin.
His stomach muscles clench hard, and more ribbons of cum spring from his tip. “Christ, you are a vision.” He collapses beside me, breathing hard against my shoulder as he plants a kiss there. A gentle hand cups my jaw, and he turns my head toward him for a kiss to my lips.
“And you are a god.” I tease, in reference to the events earlier in the day.
“I’m too weak to be a god. Though, I’m pretty sure not even a god would have the power to resist you.”
Smiling, I tuck his arm under my cheek as I lay on my side, snug to his chest, my whole body soft and spent as I watch the fire crackle. In the quiet, my thoughts drift to Jack. The remorse in his eyes when he brought us the news of my father. The way he held my mother when she collapsed in his arms.
The tension winds inside my stomach, thinking of him executing my father.
“What’s troubling you?”
“Jack took my father’s position. They rewarded him for his bravery and loyalty.”
“He usurped your father’s command. He’s a fraud.”
“He has to die.” Turning over, I face Titus, staring into his eyes. “I want to kill him myself.” In the seconds that follow, I wait for him to talk me out of it. To tell me I’m a ridiculous little girl, pawing for something that will never come to pass. Once, when Grant was being bullied by one of the boys at school, I vowed to get back at the kid, at which my father chuckled and patted me on the head. He told me not to trouble myself with revenge, to leave it to the boys, and to focus on other things. It made me feel weak and useless. Not that my father set out to belittle me, as I’m certain it was his own fears for me that dictated his response.
Titus, on the other hand, remains quiet, stroking my hair while he stares off.
“You’re not going to ridicule me for that?”
“Why would I?”
“Because I’m a woman, talking about killing a Legion officer.”
“You’re passionate about killing him, yeah?”
“I am.”
“And you see no other way?”
“I don’t.”
He shrugs, still toying with my hair. “Then, I see no reason to doubt you.”
