Page 49 of Caelum

SIXTEEN

EVE

I wasn’t sure why I did it, but the need to press my lips to his throat, to kiss him and taste him at the point where he’d been hurt, was a burning ache in my belly.

Fluttering my tongue along the sinews, I felt the slightly risen flesh of the scar and sighed as his taste blossomed inside my mouth. It filled me up as though I’d taken a deep sip of juice, but it was more than that. It went deeper.

Inside my body, I felt warm, and it was exactly like what had happened with Stefan the night they’d returned from Aboh.

I was overheated and yet, somehow, the perfect temperature too.

“Eve?” he asked, and I heard the hesitance in his voice.

When he said my name again, I lifted away from him and whispered, “What is it?”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “No. I definitely don’t,” I told him and was relieved when his tension died off and he began laughing too.

When I caught his eyes with mine, we both smiled at each other, and it felt so right, so good that inside, I just felt happy.

Weird considering how unhappy I’d been until moments before.

Lying on the sofa, I had contemplated how my life had gone in a full circle somehow, except it had been derailed and I’d gone off track onto a whole other circle, which had only made me feel worse.

The connection I had with the guys was only deepening, and the longer I spent with them, the deeper I wanted it to go.

I barely knew some of them, even though they were trying, and the need I had to know them more was a burning ache inside me, and I recognized it was sexual.

I wasn’t a child anymore. These feelings, the way my souls responded and reacted to these men? It had stimulated me in ways that I knew they could ease.

A part of me felt sure that if I touched on this side of myself, it would help things simmer down, and I wouldn’t deny that thought had me seeking comfort in Nestor’s arms.

But that was a giant leapfrog to this moment.

I felt more than comfort. I felt at ease. He’d opened up to me, told me something about his past he was ashamed about. Had told me something about Stefan too.

My men all had labyrinthine depths and, truth was, I considered myself fortunate that I’d be the one getting lost in them for a lifetime.

I still felt guilty, sure. And yes, I’d been thinking of ways to get off Caelum without them to spare them, but there was no point.

They were my Chosen.

Mine.

It was time I stopped running away from that and began embracing it.

They had been gifted to me for a reason. Evading them was doing us all a disservice, and it would, in the long run, make me miserable as heck.

“Nestor?” I rasped.

“Yes, Eve,” he replied, his tone husky.

“Will you kiss me?” I licked my lips. “Properly?”

His eyes flared with an emotion it took me a few seconds to analyze. When he did, I registered the heat, and it burned into me, branding me with his response.

I could no more stop the rocking of my hips into his belly than I could withhold the soft curving of my lips. I felt the hardness there, and after far too many jokes at my expense from Dre, I knew what that hardness was. Even knew where it went, and what would happen.

I had something called Cosmo to thank for that particular education.

“Are you sure?” Nestor asked, his voice shaking with something I knew was need.

“No,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and you may regret kissing me?—”

“Never,” he bit off.

I wriggled inwardly at that. He sounded so vehement! “Well, if you can handle that, then?—”

Again, before I could finish the sentence, he interrupted me. This time, it wasn’t with words but with his mouth. His lips pressed into mine, soft at first, then harder as he tilted his head, his nose burrowing into the softness of my cheek as he began to peck at my lips. Soft kisses were pressed along the lines of my mouth, then he traced his tongue over them, and I shivered in response because it sent rays of delight dancing down my spine.

Hips rocking upward again in a startled reaction, I parted my lips and moaned again as his tongue delved between the soft pads of flesh. Fluttering here, flickering there.

When he grunted, I felt it in his kiss. The soft vibrations made me feel as though someone had set off fireworks inside me, and I felt myself open up to him as a direct response.

My arms curved upward, coming up to hook behind his neck. Hauling him closer to me, I hugged him tighter, and he took advantage of that to push us over so that suddenly I was on my back and he was on top of me.

Eyes flaring wide, I pulled back and scolded, “Nestor! You’re injured!”

“Fuck my injuries,” he growled, his head dropping down so he could kiss me once more.

“No!” I retorted, aware of just how much pain he was in. I wasn’t about to let him hurt himself again.

Before he could argue, I forced us to roll once more, and this time, I was on top. I knew he’d let me do that, knew he wouldn’t have budged if he hadn’t wanted to let me have some freedom of movement. Even as I relished that, I marveled at being on top of him.

I spread my legs, settling myself astride him so that his hips were between my thighs. The heat of him, the solidness of him, stunned me, even as I reveled in him, in what I felt in this position above him.

When I looked into his face, his smile unnerved me until he stated softly, “Someone likes being on top.”

Blinking, I asked, “Does that mean something?”

He snickered. “Yes. It does. Have you ever ridden a horse?”

I shook my head then blushed when I realized what he meant. I didn’t pull away though. Didn’t even bother trying to hide my reaction to his words.

I was eighteen now. A woman. Today, Father Bryan would have proposed to me, and only God knew when I would have been tied to him for life.

The very notion made me feel sick. The idea of being married to him had made me nauseated when I’d lived on the compound. Now? Having experienced freedom? Having my guys around me, and one of them currently beneath me? I was so gloriously happy to be here, to be with Nestor, that I was willing to act on these emotions.

Willing to act my age for the first time in my life.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I reached for the hem of my shirt and dragged it overhead. I was nervous about revealing myself to someone else—especially a boy—but I knew nudity wasn’t that much of a big deal here.

The girls’ shower room in the gym didn’t have any stalls, and the first time I’d used it, I’d been so mortified I’d covered myself in a towel throughout the shower, which hadn’t exactly helped me get clean. Now, I just returned to my own room, but the way they’d all strolled around had told me they were well at ease with their bodies, whereas I’d been taught the opposite—to be ashamed of mine and the lust it could and would inspire in men.

If that wasn’t a big enough deal, I knew the guys were used to sleeping with those girls from the shower room. The student body here wasn’t like me. I was all curves, all softness, ripe and round. They were hard and firm, muscled and strong. I didn’t envy them, but I thought they were beautiful, and I had to wonder if my softness was dumpy to Nestor.

“Are you stuck in there?”

The question had my cheeks flushing, and I finally threw the shirt overhead. I had definitely been hiding in the act of taking the top off, but I slapped him on the side where I knew he had no injuries. “Don’t be mean.”

He laughed, and because it was such a happy sound, I found myself laughing back.

“I didn’t expect this,” I whispered, my tone growing serious as I stared down at him.

“I certainly didn’t expect this,” he retorted, his eyes darkening as he looked at me. I watched his tongue pop out, and when he licked his lips, nostrils flaring as he studied me, I knew, without him even having to say a word, that he liked what he saw.

Relief sank into my bones, and I relaxed until he asked, “Can I touch them?”

I wanted him to, but my lungs still burned as breathing became impossible for a handful of seconds.

“Yes,” I whispered, after a good thirty seconds of my cheeks flaming. I was really grateful for the darkness, and even though his sight was undoubtedly strong in the night, just as mine was on certain soul-dependent days, the shadows still offered some protection .

Both of his hands came up and cupped my breasts. The second his skin touched mine, I shuddered, utterly enthralled with the sensation. I wasn’t sure whether to buck my hips, to freeze, or if I should just quiver inwardly until the sensations died out.

It was like being tickled, yet also, being scratched. It felt good, yet bad too. The contrasts were infinite and pleasing nonetheless.

The calluses on his fingers, his palms, rubbed against my tender skin, making the hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge. My head dropped down to stare at his olive skin against my pale, alabaster flesh. His hands led to forearms which led to biceps that were strong, while I seemed to be the exact opposite. For a second, it was a reminder of how weak I was, how frail and vulnerable, how badly I needed his and the others’ protection, but then, I remembered something.

I was on top of him.

Because he wanted me to be there.

He wanted to protect me.

Yes, I was frail and vulnerable in many ways, but hadn’t I attacked Samuel when he’d tried to hurt me? When that idiot had tripped me and tried to humiliate me, hadn’t I punished him?

I had strength too, but it came in different ways, and wasn’t that how a man and woman worked?

We weren’t supposed to be the same. We were meant to be different.

Before I could let the revelation filter through me, Nestor arched up so he was sitting. He made no move to push me off him though. Instead, I watched as pain had his features tightening for a second, and then his mouth was on my breast and his lips were around the soft peak of my nipple.

My belly pulsed with need, and I could feel the area between my legs grow slick in reaction to what he was making me feel.

It was confusing but enlightening too.

With a grunt, I began rocking my hips to try and alleviate that peculiar pain I felt in my core. Except moving made it feel worse. It was like I was running toward a piece of chocolate cake, but no matter how near it was to me, it seemed to be farther away. Like someone was pushing it ahead of me so I’d never reach it.

Nestor’s hands came up to cup my waist, but he didn’t stop me from rocking against him. If anything, one of his hands moved between my thighs.

At that first touch, I froze, then when he rubbed me through my sleep shorts, I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair. I needed to connect with him, needed him to know what he was making me feel, that I was loving it even if I didn’t understand it.

How could that feel so good?

Just his fingers against the seam of my shorts?

It was so confusing, so bewildering, and yet so intoxicating too.

I aided his touch by rubbing harder into him, and as I did, he began nibbling at my nipples, biting and kissing them, before he moved up and began sucking on my throat like Stefan had, making me tense in response.

Stefan had touched me like this, but it was so different when I was half-naked, and Nestor was too—he only wore a pair of briefs to bed. Something he did for me because I’d overheard Stefan warning him to cover up when I was around.

That he might wander about his rooms naked had my cheeks flushing with heat. I wasn’t sure where it came from, wasn’t sure where the surge in confidence surged from, but I whispered, “Touch me, Nestor. Please?”

He seemed to understand what I was saying, reading between the lines to what I truly meant.

I didn’t just want him to touch me like this. I wanted skin on skin.

Nerves in my eyelids began twitching as he reached beneath my sleep shorts and underneath my panties too. When we finally connected, with no barriers, I released a groan so deep it seemed to resonate through my entire being.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Eve,” he rasped against my throat. He’d stopped licking me there and had instead pressed his face into me like he was hiding. From what, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t particularly care so long as he didn’t stop.

His fingers dipped down to where the liquid came from, where his dick would go, according to Cosmo and Wikipedia . I tensed when one of the slim digits slipped inside me and because I felt so full, and from what I’d seen online after some research earlier today, was a little surprised since I knew penises were a lot bigger than fingers.

He drew up the liquid to the top of my sex and began rubbing a part of my body that was called a clit. It felt good. So good. In fact, it felt more than that. It made me tense up and relax at the same time, which was beyond confusing, but I didn’t particularly care. I just wanted to ride out what he was making me feel.

I began to rock my hips again, began to help him touch me once more, and within seconds, the aforementioned chocolate cake was in reach. No one was trying to take it away from me now. If anything, Nestor was bringing it closer and closer, so close I could dive headfirst into it.

As what I now knew was called an orgasm approached, I embraced it. Pleasure sparked along my nerve endings, sending with it the feeling of pain, as the bliss I felt actually began to hurt me. My muscles cramped as they clenched down, and the light display that took place as the nerves in my eyes reacted was a show worthy of a movie.

I didn’t stop moving, wanting to eke out every ounce of pleasure from the moment. I felt like I was on fire, but also like I’d been doused in water. As though the flames that had burned so hotly had been in great need of being quenched. I felt relaxed and on edge, delighted and desperate for more.

More contrasts, more delicious things to ponder.

A grunt escaped Nestor, and he pulled both his fingers and his face away from me. I almost cried out at his loss, but before I could, the fingers that had touched me were in his mouth. He sucked on them, licked them clean, and with my cheeks burning in embarrassment, I looked down to escape the fire in his eyes and saw his other hand was on his briefs. Before I could do more than blink, his fingers pulled out his penis and I stared down at it. It was much thicker than the one finger he’d slid inside me, and it was longer too.

I didn’t have much of a chance to process more than that before his hand cupped himself and he began to move it up and down. Fast. So fast I almost couldn’t process what I was seeing.

In what felt like less than half a minute, his head fell back and his dick seemed to explode. He sounded like he was in pain, and the muscles in his throat were corded with strain, as ropes of white liquid escaped the tip and splattered against my belly.

Staring down at the mess he’d made, I gaped at it then him and reached down to touch it. It was thick and sticky. The texture odd against my fingers.

He’d tasted me. The liquid my body had released. Was it strange that I wanted to taste him?

Nestor fell back against the sheets now that his climax was over, and though his eyes appeared shut, I knew he was watching me. How I knew I wasn’t sure. Not when, to anyone else, he might have appeared fast asleep, but I knew. And I wasn’t sure what to do.

The urge to taste him burned in me. I curled my toes and made fists with my fingers as I tried to escape how badly I wanted the flavor of him in my mouth.

Finally, I gave in.

Reaching up, I sucked my fingers between my lips and frowned at the salty taste of him. It was far more bitter than I’d anticipated, but something deep inside me rumbled in delight at his flavor.

It was like one of my souls needed it, which was beyond bizarre.

Caelum was making me impulsive, though. I’d learned to respond to what the souls needed rather than just ignoring them. Of course, that was what had kept me safe all my life, but I was enjoying the freedom, and between Nestor and I, was there any harm in tasting him?

I reached down, rubbed my fingers in the mess he’d made, then pressed the tips to my lips once more. Deep inside, the soul that needed it sighed with delight, and Nestor released a hiss that had me staring at him as I licked the digits clean.

I did this twice more, only stopping when the soul was satisfied. By that point, Nestor’s eyes were alight once more.

“What made you do that?” he rasped, and his tone made me shiver.

“You tasted me, and I wanted to taste you back.”

He hummed under his breath as he studied me. Then, he asked, “Remember what Dre taught you?” Before I could tense, he shook his head. “About communing with the souls? Figuring out which one is in charge?”

I blinked at him. “Yes.”

“Think about that now. Do as he taught you.”

“Why?” I half-whined, even as I closed my eyes and began to obey.

“Please, for me,” he said, and though I didn’t want to because the last time I had, I’d made a bear pop out of nowhere, I retreated inside myself.

Dre had called it a soul house, and that was what it was.

Considering how large it was, it made me wonder if I’d purposely ignored it all my life. I didn’t recall touching upon it before Caelum, and yet it bewildered me how I hadn’t.

Now, when I closed my eyes, it was there, and I had to force it aside to concentrate on something else.

It was like finding it once had brought it out, and it was refusing to hide again.

Like before, the seven souls each had their own space with the eighth one hovering over them.

It wasn’t like I had a pocket inside me that was loaded up with miniature versions of the creatures. They were colors I intrinsically understood.

Vampires were navy blue. I knew that because they were cold and rational. Logical.

Hell Hounds, unsurprisingly, were a bright red that pulsed in time with my heart.

Loreleis were red too, but they were pinker. Almost fuchsia or magenta, I guessed. It was a passionate color. One that made me think of what I’d just done with Nestor. The Hell Hound was blood, whereas the Lorelei was desire.

The Sin Eater was black, unrelieved black, and where it touched the other souls on two sides, the darkness bled into them.

The Were was a rich brown, like the soil. Deep with life and abundant.

The gouille was green. So dark that it was almost black until the yellow of the Succubus touched upon it.

All seven had their unique shade, but around them all, like they were being embraced, was purple. It was royal and regal, bright like the shining of tanzanite under the sunlight.

Now that I studied them, I realized that though the purple seemed to glow the brightest, the yellow from the Succubus came next. Unlike the last time I’d looked when the Were had pulsed with life.

Surprised, I opened my eyes and looked down at Nestor. “How did you know?”

He cocked a brow at me. “That your Succubus was in charge?” His lips twitched as he flickered his gaze down to my belly. “When you did that. That’s something she would do.”

“Why?”

Nestor shrugged. “That’s what they do. They like sex.”

“I wanted to try it without her prompting me.” My nose crinkled. “When I went back for more… that was her.” I wasn’t sure why it was important he knew that, just that it was.

His eyes softened as he reached up, his hand coming up to cup my chin. “I know.”

I wasn’t sure if he did, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I’d tried, at least.

“Eve?” he whispered into the quiet that fell between us, one that was broken only with the sounds of our breathing.

“Yes?”

“Would you let us help you again? What happened with Dre… it was an aberration, I’m sure. But you need our help; you need to be trained with someone who understands your souls. Let Stefan help you tomorrow. Please?”

I didn’t want to, fretted over the prospect of ‘breaking’ one of the others too, but I could hear the deep concern in his voice—a concern that was for me and me alone. How could that not affect me?

I released a shuddery breath. “If I must.”

“You must,” he agreed, but his tone didn’t make me want to smack him so that was something. “The stronger you are, Eve, the stronger we are as a Pack. You see that, don’t you?”

I blinked because, goodness, he was right.

I’d been stupid avoiding the classes, thinking crazy things about trying to leave Caelum without them for their own safety, and instead, I’d just been wasting time. Sure, I’d been petrified. What happened to Dre was something that should have been impossible, after all. But the time for procrastinating was done, and two days without classes were two days wasted.

“Come here,” he said after a moment when I didn’t reply, neither to agree nor disagree with his words, and he tugged me down so I lay atop him.

“I’m too heavy,” I argued, but he snorted.

“You’re perfect.”

“Not for your wounds.” His throat was healed, but the beating that had happened after he’d been taken down had caused injuries that were nowhere near recovered.

“If you think this isn’t making me feel better than any drugs, you’re crazy,” he grumbled, and he did sound sleepier.

Was that good? Or bad?

His mouth brushed my temple. “Sleep, Eve.”

My eyes fluttered to a close as I got myself comfortable. I moved a little, settling just off him to the side and cocking my leg over his hips. He let me rest my arm on his belly and hummed when I pressed my face into the crook of his neck.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much.”

Another kiss to my temple. “Thank you for that, Eve.”

I bit my bottom lip, but it didn’t stop me from smiling, and I rubbed my nose against his neck in silent response. I couldn’t think of a better way to begin my birthday.

Suddenly, all I needed was to sleep. My thoughts weren’t important. Memories or what-ifs weren’t either.

Just me and him, together in this bed.

That was all that mattered, and it was perfect.