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76

Summer

I am lying on top of Connor, my naked skin against his. My hands are stacked on his chest, and I am resting my chin on them, looking up at him.

“What?” he asks, playing with a lock of my hair.

“Thank you.”

Connor leans up and nuzzles my nose. “For what?”

“For being patient with me.” I brush my lips over his. “For wanting me.” I kiss him again. “For loving me.”

“You’re worth it.”

I pull back, feeling my smile falter. “Are you sure?” I ask, my vulnerability showing.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

I relax a little, drawing shapes on his chest.

“You were really worried, huh?”

I nod and look up at him through my lashes. “You’ll stay over?”

“If you want me to.”

I nod again. “Please.”

Connor shifts beneath me, tucking me against him. “Good.”

I lay my head on his shoulder. “Con?”

“Hm?” I can hear sleep already tugging at him.

“You make me happy,” I whisper softly.

Connor’s skin takes on a faint glow. “You make me happy, too.” I feel his body completely relax into the sanctuary of sleep, and my own exhaustion claws at me. But just as I’m about to plunge into unconsciousness, I hear my phone vibrate on the bedside table. I reach over Connor, who is already snoring softly, and pick it up.

I frown at the message, quickly typing a reply.

There is a pause before he starts typing again.

How could I have missed him? He’s barely been away. Should I have missed him? Was that even an appropriate question for him to have asked?

The message seems to type itself, my fingers flying over the keypad.

I try to ignore the tug of disappointment.

Fuck. There’s that different tug, a deeper one. One that I need to veer away from right now and avoid forever.

I pause for a moment, staring at my phone before I start typing again.

I sigh, considering his question. Do I feel better now that I’ve opened up a can of worms and have absolutely no idea what to do with it?

My lips twitch, and I roll my eyes,

I lock my phone, hearing it faintly vibrate with his final message, but I’m already fading into sleep.

I only sleep a few hours later and wake up with my body still feeling uncomfortable from yesterday. Emotions have always wreaked havoc on me physically. It’s like my body tries to reject them so violently that they take a toll not only mentally but physically, too. Connor barely stirs as I climb over him and pull on tight yoga pants, a sports bra, and a sweater. Winter seems to have firmly claimed the realm.

Outside, I push into a run, planning to go for a smoothie.

My phone alerts, and beneath 1015’s last Goodnight message, there is one from this morning. Does he ever sleep?

I slow to a walk and then stop fully. I look around, trying to spot him. It sets me a little on edge that I can’t feel his eyes on me. Am I taking my safety for granted?

I roll my eyes. What an arrogant dickhead.

I sigh and shake my head before pushing into a run again.

I glance at his message, and my lips twitch, but I ignore him as I arrive at the cafe to order my smoothie.

“Berry blast, please.”

The server nods and scurries away to start my order.

I narrow my eyes at the phone.

I roll my eyes again.

I scowl at my phone, trying to understand why he’s making such a big issue of this. Max runs the gym, and he is also my trainer, so why the fuck does it matter if he’s there or not?

I wince at the message and shove my phone away. I grab my smoothie and jog to the gym, making a beeline for the treadmill. The belt has barely started when Max appears in front of me, his frown putting deep furrows in his brow. “You didn’t ice.”

It’s not until he mentions it that I notice how sluggish my muscles feel. Max slams his hand down on the stop button and grabs my arm, dragging me to the sports medicine room.

“Max! What the fuck?” I yelp as he pulls me through the gym.

Max pushes me down on the table and places his hand on my shoulder. He presses his thumb into my muscle, finding a huge knot on his first pass.

“Moron,” he growls.

I buckle under the pressure and swat at him, his touch hurting me. “Ouch! Stop!”

“It hurts because you’re a moron. Lie down.”

I cross my arms. “No.”

Max narrows his eyes and scoops up my legs, practically forcing me to lie down on my front. He moves around the table to stand at my head and massages my shoulders. In reality, there is nothing relaxing or pleasant about the way his fingers press into my muscles. He moves his touch along my shoulder, pressing in deeper. Suddenly, one of the knots shifts and then releases. I can’t help my yelp, but my body starts to relax. I moan at the feeling of him working my sore muscles.

Max continues working the muscles along my neck and back. I can’t tell if his touch is softer or if he’s just worked my muscles so well that they no longer hurt. I moan again, my eyes closing as I allow myself to relax into the feeling.

“You’re lucky I know what her actual moans sound like, Romulus, or this would be a very different moment.”

I open my eyes, and Max’s hands go still on my shoulders, but he doesn’t remove them. He rolls his eyes. “If it isn’t the Golden Boy.”

I turn my head to look at Connor and sit up, intending to slide off the table. “Hi, big guy.”

Max stops me and digs his thumb into my muscles. “She needs to ice after workouts.”

I moan as he rolls the knot along my shoulder.

Connor narrows his eyes. “Cool. You can take your hands off her now.”

Max rolls his eyes but lifts his hands and steps back.

I watch Connor warily. His stance is confrontational, and there is nothing gentle or passive about this man. I hop off the table and walk toward Connor. He doesn’t take his eyes off Max, still sizing him up. I slide my hand into his and tug him toward the door. Once we are outside, I pull him around the side of the building. When we’re out of sight of the path, I curl my fingers into the waistband of his pants and pull him close.

Connor slides his hand over my shoulder and gently massages it, his touch abundantly more tender than Max’s.

“You feeling jealous, big guy?”

“Someone else had their hands on you.” He meets my gaze, his eyes flashing with possessiveness.

I moan, tightening my fingers and bunching his pants before I open the button and shove down the zipper. I slip my hand inside and wrap my fingers around his cock, squeezing his hardening length.

“I need you. Now.”

Connor groans and wastes no time in shoving my pants down. I toe my shoes off and free my legs, kicking away both the leggings and my panties. Connor picks me up and presses my back to the wall. I wrap my thighs around his waist as he works at freeing his cock, his knuckles brushing against my slick center and dragging a moan from me.

He thrusts inside of me, and I cry out, feeling the edge of his possessiveness in the way he fucks me. There is a desperation that has never been present, and I fucking love it. I crave it, and I need more of it.

Connor groans and thrusts faster, leaning his body against mine, crushing me against the stone wall. I slam my lips to his and dig my nails into his shoulders, kissing him passionately.

“Bruise me, big guy,” I moan against his lips. He digs his fingers into my ass harder than he’s ever done before. The bite of pain is followed by a jolt of pleasure so intense I cry out.

I trail my lips over his jaw, nipping and licking, savoring the rough scrape of his stubble. His breath hitches, and he tilts his head for me, allowing me better access. I bite his neck, and his moan sends a shiver down my spine. Connor’s hips piston into me, and all I can do is hold on, my pussy quivering around his cock. With every thrust, my ass slides against the rough wall, but I don’t care. This is closer to what I crave, what I need.

“So close…” I moan against his neck before biting down hard and sucking. Connor shouts, and his body goes rigid. He buries his face into my hair and thrusts deep, his cock pulsing as he fills me. My orgasm rips through me, and I press my face against his neck to muffle the sound of my pleasure.

Connor and I stand there panting, keeping his cock buried inside me until he feels me shiver from the cold.

“We should move…” he whispers into my hair.

I moan, pressing soft kisses against his neck and protesting a little as he gently lowers my feet to the ground.

“You like my jealousy?” Connor asks as he steps back. I bonelessly lean against the wall, and he kneels to help me correct my clothing. I watch him through hooded eyes as I push my legs into my leggings.

“Maybe…” I say coyly. Connor stands, kissing me again. I smile and fit myself against him.

“I love you,” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I didn’t realize it was such an unreasonable emotion.”

I trail my fingers down his chest. “Sexy.”

“Sexy?” Connor laughs.

I nod, kissing him again, my thighs clenching when I realize something is missing. “Con.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not wearing panties.”

Connor frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” I look around, but there is no sign of them. “I don’t want to work out without panties. Especially when your cum is dripping out of me.”

Connor’s eyes darken a little, but he pretends not to be affected by my words as he looks around for my panties.

“Where do they keep going?” he asks.

His question is fair, given I am losing a pair almost daily. I’m going through so many that I’ve had to order more rush delivery.

“Could we look for a rune to stop them from going missing?”

I think for a moment. “I’d probably have to create one, but maybe I could use a rune to find my missing ones.”

“To the library!” Connor exclaims, and I laugh.

“I still need to work out, big guy.”

“You can’t skip a day?” he asks, frowning.

My lips twitch, reveling in the last drop of his possessiveness. I know it won’t last. “I’ll come back later. Maybe your favorite berserker won’t be here when I return.”

“I just don’t get what his problem with me is.” Connor narrows his eyes, looking at the gym.

I quirk a brow. “I think the problem is mutual, Con.”

“I don’t dislike people.”

I give him a skeptical look.

“I don’t!” he exclaims.

“Okay, so say it.”

“Say what?”

I clear my throat. “I, Connor Azrael Morningstar, like and respect Maximilian Romulus.”

Connor opens his mouth to speak and then closes it again.

I lift my eyebrows, waiting.

Connor crosses his arms. “I don’t hate him.”

“You don’t like him, either.”

Connor slings his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his chest in a gentle headlock. I squeal and bat at him as he starts walking toward the library.