he strokes at me gently, reducing me to a quivering mess.
Slowly we sink onto the bed, and I pepper my siren shifter’s tan body with kisses as he fumbles the rest of his clothes off, his arousal obvious even beneath his jeans. His thumbs brush gently over my nipples as he pulls back to drink me in with his eyes, his gaze almost reverent as I lean back and bring him into the curve of my embrace. “Roll over,” Landon tells me, his voice low with lust, and I do as he asks, adrenaline surging through me.
When he pushes into me, his movements are slow and deliberate—so much so that it’s nearly enough to make me go crazy. It’s almost like he’s trying to tease the pleasure out of me, and when I glance over my shoulder at him, he gives me a knowing smile that just about reduces me to a puddle on the bed.
The pace he sets is agonising at first, speeding up ever so gradually as he reaches a hand around to stroke my clit while he moves. It’s an exquisite feeling, and the sounds it elicits are borderline embarrassing, but I’m too caught up in it to feel self-conscious.
“Fuck, Boots,” Landon groans from above me. “You’re so tight.” I feel his lips on my shoulder as he presses me into the mattress, his every thrust making me see stars as his fingers continue their deft ministrations.
“Landon…” I pant, lost in the feeling of him. The pleasure is all-encompassing, and my orgasm hits me all at once, like a tidal wave.
Landon follows not long after, his hips stuttering when he comes. As he lowers himself down on top of me, brushing back my hair to kiss me, all he can manage is a breathless, “Not bad for a first lesson.”
I just laugh, still panting. Not bad at all.
Chapter 13
You would think, given everything I've been through, that I would know better than to get used to any situation that feels too comfortable. And you would be right. Nothing in my life has ever been permanent—none of the good things, anyway. Ever since I was a baby, it's just been one unfortunate incident after another. I'm accustomed to being left behind, so much so that it might as well be in my DNA. The worst part is that not even learning my true origins has been enough to prevent further tragedies. If anything, it's only brought more destruction to my life, and the one place I thought I would finally belong has turned against me, too.
The one thing that's gotten me through the past few months has been my connection to the guys. That I love them all is a foregone conclusion; my feelings for them run deeper than any I've ever felt before, and there's something so depressingly surprising in the fact that they've stood beside me through thick and thin. Especially now that the one thing we all had in common—our powers—has disappeared, just like every other good thing in my life.
These are the nightmares that plague me as we settle into our lives at the commune: images of abandonment flash through my mind on repeat like a film reel, and some nasty voice in the back of my mind whispers that it's only a matter of time before the men that I love decide to cut their losses and get away from me before I end up getting them hurt, too.
If they notice how dogged I am by these ideas, they don't say anything, and I don't know if that makes it better or worse. At any rate, though, I can't help but feel a little melancholy about how nice it is here. After Mollie, I know better than to think this will last.
The days turn to weeks. I know I need to bring up the Edith situation with Theo sooner or later, but she has yet to make an appearance, and I worry that the moment I tell him she's planning an attack, he'll kick us back out onto the street. I'm not oblivious to the way he looks at me, either, but I seriously doubt it's for the reasons Shade suggested. I'm a novelty to him, nothing more, and without my powers, I'm like a broken weapon: nice to collect dust on a shelf, but otherwise useless.
My lessons with Landon and Shade are a much-needed stress relief. We practise several times a week, spending hours on end doing drills, sparring, learning about different