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Little would he know how much his sexual obsession for Skye would grow. That within a few years, he would become so refined, so attuned to her body, he could fuck her for an entire night and not be spent.
But that night, in the cabin, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, he fucked his flower until she was raw and aching, until she needed Leo to soothe her. She kissed Leo tenderly and he fucking worshipped her in a way Hunter wished he could do.
Confliction still prodded at Hunter’s core like a ghost in a room they could not see. It lingered there hauntingly as he watched her get taken, and he felt this roaring shock of rage within him, realizing that he did not like her wrapped around another—he did not like her pleasured moans owned by another man, even if that other man meant the world to him.
What a fucking mess.
To have her and feel crushed at the same time; this was not supposed to happen.
As Leo used to say: This was not part of the rules.
The only thing keeping him grounded was her stare. Her eyes found him as Leo pleasured her, and it was like she was saying:I’m here, and I’m still with you.
It pulled him back from the edge he didn’t know he’d been nearing.
Leo
A tangled mess of bodies, the three of them found their place back under the light covers with Skye in the centre, Leo’s nose buried in her hair and Hunter’s body turned to face her. She was sore and quiet, but she grinned many times when Leo had looked at her and fuck he had treasured her thoroughly.
His cock was deliciously sore, but not so sore it could not take her again. He’d done it several times, easing himself in and out of her with a tenderness she seemed to enjoy after Hunter’s brutal fucking.
And Hunter had been brutal.
Her breaths evened out not long after the lights went out, and then it was just the two of them awake, a heaviness suddenly present.
They needed to talk.
“What do we do?” Leo murmured, tiredly.
“I don’t know,” Hunter replied.
Leo sort of hoped… “If you leave that club, put it behind you, maybe…maybe you can come be with us.”
Hunter’s voice was disturbingly flat. “Is Skye going to live with you?”
“Well, I haven’t talked to her about it but…she can leave that house now. She needs to be away from Kurt, and…I’ve got a good place, Hunt. Big enough for the three of us—”
“On the condition I leave the Warlords.”
Leo took a moment to answer, choosing his words carefully. “We wouldn’t be enemies, Hunt.”
This had been the issue between them, and it had been secretly brewing under Skye’s nose. Hunter would be fully embedded into the Warlords within a matter of time, and it would change things forever if he went through with it.
Leo suspected Hunter was trying to tell Skye this, but he hadn’t yet.
Hunter made a thoughtful sound at the back of his throat. “So you’ve deemed that it bemethat should abandon my path whileyouget to carry on with yours.”
Leo didn’t mean it like that, though. “I’ve been brought up on the path I’m on, Hunt. I have no choice—”
“You always have a choice.”
Irritation flared through Leo now. “I’m only trying to make this work, Hunt.”
Hunter’s voice dropped lower. “It won’t work.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“Because I’m not leaving the club, and you’re not leaving your precious High Table of Horrors—we’re part of each now, and they’re part ofus.”
Leo didn’t respond because…Hunter was right. It was not a simple problem to fix. They were entrenched in those worlds now, and fixing it? Well, to fix this went beyond Leo’s control.
“What a mess, Hunt,” he whispered achingly.
“What a fucking mess,” Hunter echoed back.
