Page 62 of Screaming


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I looked down at my gloves and sighed.

Thatwas why. Because I couldn’t touch anyone without hurting them, without stealing from them. It didn’t matter what Bowen had said—it just wasn’t true.

Hera’s hazel eyes met mine, and I offered her a strained smile.

She held a hand out to me, but I glanced down at my gloves again, hesitating.

Hera pulled away from Knox and Brax, moving between them, her body seeming heavy and exhausted as she crawled toward me. She reached out when she got to me, and I flinched just before her palm touched my cheek.

Immediately, I felt that rush of power, the pull from her to me, and it shamed me.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, because I had no idea what else to say.

Supposedly I could touch her andnotdo this. It was something in my own head that caused me to fear her, to fear everything around me and to strike first by draining anything I touched.

Shame ate at it, only made worse when that power slid inside me, pleasant and familiar.

Hera didn’t give me a dirty look, though. She didn’t seem to blame me, to hate me for my lack of control, for how I couldn’t be with her without taking from her. Instead, she grasped the hem of my shirt and pulled it up and off me. She didn’t try to take my gloves, didn’t remove them or complain. Instead, she ran her own hands over the bare skin of my chest as if to prove that she didn’t hate me.

But her accepting me didn’t mean I liked it, didn’t mean I accepted it.

It was why I’d kept my distance tonight, why I hadn’t joined in. I’d had a place before because Knox had needed me to silence his other side. Now that he’d come to terms with it, though, now that he and his incubus seemed to be best buddies, it was just me on the outskirts. If I had been a part of this, I’d have only weakened them all.

I didn’t add to this connection—I took from it.

Before I could worry about that, though, Hera helped to numb the pain inside me. She brushed her lips to mine before deepening the kiss, before telling me with that touch what she couldn’t say with words.

And that helped remind me that no matter what else happened, I wanted her. Maybe it was selfishness that drove me, but I couldn’t stop. Even without as much experience, I was helpless against her. I wrapped my arm around her waist and flipped her so she rested on the floor beneath me.

She gasped, breaking the kiss, so I pulled back to give her room to breathe. I dragged my tongue along her cheek, licking off some of the cum Knox had covered her with. In addition, wetness on my jeans reminded me of just how messy she was and how much I enjoyed it.

“You look good well-used,” I whispered to her, and her blush at the compliment said she knewexactlywhat I meant.

She lifted her hips, rubbing shamelessly against me in a silent plea, one I was more than willing to give in to.

I leaned my weight on one arm while I reached for the button of my jeans with my other. I undid it, then shoved my jeans off, going as quickly as I could, not giving a damn about looking sexy while I did it. No, I wanted to slide into her and nothing else mattered.

As soon as I freed myself of my clothing, when the only thing I had on were my gloves, I settled into the cradle of her hips, her sexy thighs spread around me. It let me fall into the space there, my cock nestled against her drenched cunt.

I reached between us, fitting the head of my cock into the heated entrance of her pussy, pausing to stare at her until she looked up at me.

I wanted her eyes on me, to bask in the gentleness there, in the safe place that she created in a hostile, unyielding world.

And when she did, when she looked up at me, I went still. She reached inside me and silenced every ugly voice inside my head, all those horrible things I’d told myself over the years. She shut them all down until the world went quiet, all because of the way she wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

I sank into her slowly, pressing my cock into her heat with the utmost care. She was precious to me, and I wanted to treat her that way. So I rocked into her, advancing and withdrawing in small thrusts, chasing each little catch of her breath she let out.

“I love you,” I whispered into her ear, pressed tight against her. “I trust you, and I’ll do anything I can to keep you safe, to keepthissafe.” I meant more than just her and I, of course.

I meant everything she’d built, this family she’d created, this home that was made of the six of us. Six people who had no business around each other, who had no connection, and who she’d somehow bridged that gap for. She’d made us all better versions of ourselves, gave us hope when none of us had it in us to hope anymore.

That was the most impressive part, the thing about her that the Warden hadn’t understood, that she’d underestimated. Hera was powerful, sure, but it wasn’t that power that really made her truly dangerous.

Instead, it was her faith in others. It was her fearlessness in facing down the worst in others without blinking, in accepting them, in risking herself for her belief in them and their goodness.

Hera had no reason to trust any of us. We weren’t good people, weren’t brave and fearless like her, but she’d gone out on a limb and done it anyway.

She’d given us that gift, and that was where her power really came from. She made us want to be better, to want to earn the respect and trust she gave us so willingly.

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