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It’s here. Right fuckinghere, with my clit grinding against the couch and my ass on fire from his spanking. I know he’s close, I can feel it in the harsh grip he’s got on my hips and the pounding force he takes me with, and everything—everything—disappears. I want to be fucked like this forever.
And then he snarls out my name, and it pushes me over the edge.
“Maddoc.”
He comes with a hoarse shout right after I do, his cock swelling inside me as he grinds against my ass and unloads everything he’s got. It goes on forever, waves of pleasure that draw out into a long moment of silence in the aftermath that feels deceptively peaceful. I’m barely in my body, so fucked out—exhausted and sated—that it feels like I’m floating above myself.
But of course, like all good things, it comes to an end.
Maddoc pulls out, the loss of his cock followed by a warm flood of cum that drips down my leg, an undeniable reminder that the messy world is still right here, waiting for us both.
I push myself up from the couch and turn to face him, but he’s already moving away, eyes shuttered and expression locked down completely as he uses his shirt to wipe off his cock, his eyes sliding down my body and then looking away.
“You should get up to your room. The guys will be home soon.”
His cool dismissal snuffs out everything warm inside me, and I stiffen. But it’s for the best. We obviously both needed what just happened, but nothing has actually changed just because we finally fucked without any deception between us.
Nothing except how raw and vulnerable I feel.
“Thanks,” I say, snatching up my clothes and walking past him.
I’m not thanking him for the fuck, but for the reminder. There are walls between us for a lot of reasons, and I quickly put mine back up and keep him there as I shower and wash up, my body far easier to clean than the mess of thoughts and emotions inside me.
“Shit,” I whisper, finally letting just a few of them out as the hot water pours down on me. I lean against the wet tile and squeeze my eyes closed, safe to come unraveled—at least a little bit—in the privacy of the steam and silence.
Fuck. I can’t believe I let that happen.
I soap up my hand and move it between my legs again, even though I’ve already washed away all traces of his cum. I’m on birth control, so at leastthat’snot an issue, but still. That level of raw connection and intimacy isn’t something I ever meant to let happen with him again. It definitely isn’t safe for my heart.
I can’t seem to keep things straight anymore, not with my feelings about these men getting constantly tangled, twisted and knotted into something impossible to unravel.
It’s almost like we’re right back where we started. They’re helping me against West Point again, all of us working to try and keep Chloe safe from the brutality of Austin McKenna, and it’s seductively easy to fall back into old patterns. To imagine that the Reapers are actually on my side, the way it started to feel like they were before we got Chloe back the first time… and to imagine that I’m on their side too.
That they need me, and will be there for me when I need them.
That Iseethem, and it’s my place to be a comfort and support to them.
That the connection between each of us is just as deep and true as it felt today.
But how can I be on their side when they’ve already betrayed me? And how can I ever let myself believe they’re on mine, when I already know that they’re planning on doing it again?
“Easy answer,” I tell myself, straightening up and turning the handle with a decisive twist, replacing the false, comforting warmth of the water with an icy blast that brings me to my senses. “I can’t.”
22
RILEY
I’m shiveringas I step out of the shower, but at least my head feels a little clearer. Clear enough that, when I hear voices downstairs and realize that Dante and Logan are back, I don’t let messy emotions get in the way. The three of them are talking, and while I may not want to see Maddoc again right now, I do want to know what’s going on.
I need to—more importantly, Chloe needs me to—so I quickly dress again and head downstairs.
As usual with these three, they’re clustered around the kitchen island when I walk in. They all go quiet when I walk in the room, and my stomach drops.
“What happened?” I ask, the question making Maddoc’s jaw clench in a familiar tell.
Whatever it is, it’s not good.
I steel myself, making eye contact with each of them. “Just tell me. Is it about Chloe?”
