thumping?
I wrenched upwards, shoving at his chest and swaying off balance. One of us kicked the other in the ankle; it didn't matter who was to blame. I went from fighting him to grappling with his arms, my world flipping under me as I lost my balance.
“Look out!” he cried, grabbing out for something to stabilize us. Together we tumbled, my legs over my head almost comically. The porcelain of the nearby bathtub rattled as we landed inside, stunning me.
Drezden crashed down on me like a landslide. I coughed, coughing in pained shock, the sickening thud of a skull hitting the wall beside me demanding I focus. “Shit,” I groaned, “Drezden? You okay?”
Fluttering my eyes, I stared into the peaceful face of the singer of Four and a Half Headstones. His weight was heavy, but somehow comforting on me. The red mark on his temple showed where he'd banged his head.
I was too nervous to move or breathe. There was a chance Drezden was hurt. Yet, for me, it was the first time we'd been so close without him paralyzing me with those intense green eyes of his. He wasn't yelling or growling, he wasn't sending iron burrs into my limbs.
Pressed under his warmth, I wasn't... scared of him.
But I was scared for him.
One of my arms was trapped between us. The pulse of Drezden's heart trickled up my skin. Reaching out with my fingers, I hovered just in front of his jaw. I need to see if he's okay. “Drezden?” I whispered, voice scratchy. “Drez, wake up.”
The singer didn't budge.
My mouth tasted like batteries. The ends of my fingers quivered, desperately wanting to alight on his cheek. If I did, I'd risk breaking everything; that moment that could go on forever. A slice of time that allowed me to bask in the intensity that was Drezden Halifax, his beauty and heat, without turning into dribbling and useless chunks.
He might really be hurt, I realized. All at once, the tranquility vanished. With just the one free hand, I dropped it, clasping his bare shoulder. It was tepid, smooth as glass. “Drezden! Drezden, wake up! Are you alright? Talk to me!”
Breathing suddenly through his nose, the man cracked his eyes and looked at me. He might as well have been Medusa for how I stopped moving. “Why the hell are you touching me?” he asked softly.
Opening my lips, I found... nothing. No words. The situation had transformed and he was once more a fucking god of rock who spun perverse thoughts to life inside of me just by being near.
Just by being alive.
He shifted, hissing as he gripped his skull. His weight ground against me, rubbing jeans on my pelvis. The sensation was wonderfully awful. My lower belly danced, my tongue knotted.
Watching me, Drezden paused. The look in his eyes went from surprised to accusatory. I preferred the first expression by far.
I felt it, didn't I? I'd noticed it soon after he'd fallen on me. Distracting myself with his injury had served somewhat, but now... under the loaded gun of his hot gaze, his strong scent and moving body, I was all too aware of what was happening.
Drezden's cock was hard as a rock, and it was pushing into my hip.
My thighs tensed from holding the position I had for so long. I didn't dare move, though. The result of everything I'd been trying to deny was pinned between me and Drezden.
He adjusted again, slowly that time. The pressure of his hard-on rolling over me was torture. It was almost enough to make me want to find those guards again, just to let them beat me senseless.
To make me forget that Drezden Halifax...
Wanted me.
Tingles rose through my sternum. My nipples firmed in my bra, betraying me with their reaction. The small tents were obvious through the thin material. Sensing his attraction was doing things to me I wasn't ready for.
Oh fuck, what do I do? I thought wildly. Turning my chin, I stared at the wall where Drezden had hit his temple. I ripped my hand off of him, leaving it floating in the air uselessly. “Are—are you alright?” I choked out.
“I'm fine,” he said, knees spreading outside of my calves as he sat up. I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. His shade fell over me in the small space. “But I asked you something. Why the hell were you touching me?”
His question reminded me too pointedly of our tangled bodies. “I was worried you were really hurt.