Page 14

Chapter 14

Theo

T he world felt like it was on fire, and the only thing that could save me was the feel of Wren’s skin pressing against mine.

It had faded earlier, when I’d fallen asleep… but this was different. This was heat that was going to engulf me, a need that was going to leave me drowning in a sea of molten desire. It wasn’t exactly pain , but I couldn’t breathe around it.

It was like every part of me I’d ever cut off had suddenly woken up, amplified… sensed him so close. That darkness in my chest, the monster inside me, demanded to be fed one way or another—through death, through pain, through blood.

Or through this .

It had to be sated… and if I had to choose…

If I had to lose myself to something…

“Wren?”

If I had to lose myself, it was going to be to Wren.

He sat in front of me, still and quiet, but his eyes were all for my movements as I slowly made my way to him. When I came up and ran my fingers along the tops of his thighs, he shuddered. He didn’t try to pull away, and I wasn’t sure how I was controlling myself the way I was.

I was burning alive from the inside out, and just that brush of his skin against my fingertips nearly stole my breath away. From one moment to the next, I was moving.

When I straddled him, the coolness of his skin pressing to mine was ambrosia, every healing sensation I never thought I could feel.

It was intoxicating, and at least some small part of me was terrified that I was letting myself feel this at all—horrified at what it would mean.

But Wren wasn’t touching me.

Wren was letting me touch him, and it made all the difference.

“Wren…” I said his name again, and this time it wasn’t a question. It was the softest syllable of permission, my lips pressing to his throat while I said it. I dropped my fingers to his hips and slowly trailed them along the length of his back, toward the soft flutter of his wings.

“Theo, wait, I—” But I was already touching them, and his body convulsed beneath me. My fingers worked through the feathers, feeling the strong muscle beneath, the strength it must have taken to give him flight.

Flight .

How amazing did it feel to take to the air?

My eyes shut and I ran my tongue along the side of his throat, tasting the way his pulse quickened when I stroked the base of his wings the same way I would his cock. He groaned, and his hips jerked up of their own accord.

He was hard, and the fabric of his boxers didn’t do anything to hide it. The only thing they did was irritate me. I wanted skin.

I wanted all of him.

That hungry thing inside me demanded it.

“Off,” I groaned, but I couldn’t let go of his wings. I gripped them tighter to pull him against me, and Wren spasmed.

“What?” he finally asked when I made another frustrated sound.

“ Off , before I tear them off.”

He paused in my arms, body going stiff, tense, defensive for just a moment before he realized what I was talking about. His eyes dropped between us, and he peeled himself out of the offending piece of material before I had a chance to ask what he’d thought I meant.

When I shifted and straddled his lap again, there was nothing between us… and that nothing felt better than anything I’d ever felt in my entire life. The heat that had been scorching to a boiling point inside me seemed to narrow down and focus on where our cocks were pressed together, where my hands were digging nails into his skin and his were finally touching me back, grabbing my hips so hard it felt like they might bruise.

But he still wasn’t forcing me to move. His fingers were so rough the sharp sting of pain was nearly a relief from the heat ripping through me, but he didn’t force me to shift my hips, he didn’t drag me against him.

It was my hands on his back that pulled him closer, my fingers gripping his wings until he gasped and rolled his hips against mine.

It was my touch that led us both, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the words to tell Wren how much that meant, how much it mattered that he knew I needed it to be like this—I needed to feel like I was in control of everything that happened.

Maybe later, when I had more blood going to my brain instead of my cock, I’d think to tell him. Or maybe I’d realize how I should never have let this happen, and I’d tell him to fuck off.

Neither of those were happening now, though. I dropped my head to his shoulder and stared at our cocks sliding with dry friction between our bodies—I was bigger than he was, but not by much. I was caught up in the lean definition of his stomach, and perfectly cut muscles that must have taken hours of exercise—or maybe it was simply something that happened when you were a cupid. My skin was streaked with scars so old they were nearly faded, and others bright pink from how new they were.

He was so perfect in ways I could never be. He was perfect in ways I shouldn’t have been able to touch, but my fingers ran the length of the feathers on his wings and his back arched, making his body rock into me again.

Take what you need , he’d said. I didn’t know how to tell him that I’d never been offered anything like this before… I’d never had the chance to choose, to decide.

I’d never been able to take at all. Now that I was suddenly presented with the ability to, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t know what I wanted, other than to feel him—more of him… all of him that I could get, pressed in a line against me and drowning the heat from my body with the coolness of his skin.

When I opened my mouth and let a string of spit trail from between my lips to fall against us, Wren gasped—the sound broke into a moan when I did it again.

“Hands.” I murmured, and lifted my eyes. Wren’s gaze was already so fucked out, so I repeated myself. “Hands, Wren.”

I was worried I’d have to elaborate, but he caught on. His fingers dropped between us, elegant digits wrapping around both of our cocks to trap us against one another, so when my hips bucked up again, the pressure around us was so delicious I nearly came undone. I’d never felt anything like it—never felt anything as good as the way his body did when he moved with mine.

I drowned in sensation and knew he was right there beside me, holding tight as we sank beneath the waves. Our pleasure pulsed in tandem, a kaleidoscope of feeling caught just behind my fluttering lids and painting an image of want and need and other things that I’d never imagined I’d be able to have.

With Wren, it was possible.

With Wren, I felt…

Fuck, I couldn’t think about how I felt. I still didn’t know if this was real, but I knew in the moment, I couldn’t stop.

My thighs tightened where I straddled him, and I gave his wings a gentle tug, fingers applying pressure to the base of them in a perfect mirror of what he was doing to our cocks.

Wren gasped, writhing, his body twitching and his tip spurting a bit of precum that just made it feel even better when he thrust against me.

“More,” I whispered, greedy fingers stroking anywhere I could touch. His body moved like it was all one long nerve ending, hips thrusting in time with my fingers delving into his feathers. Wren cried out, shivering from the stimulation, and I rocked up to meet him.

I wanted more.

I wanted more than I deserved.

So I had to settle on what I had in front of me.

I took hold of his wings and applied pressure, then started to rock my body in earnest. I fucked into his hands and dragged myself back down, using my grip to get leverage. Wren went wild . His body was a shaking, shivering mess. Everything about him, everything about us… it was almost too much.

It wasn’t enough.

I wanted more.

I used my grip on him to roll us over, so the pressure of his frame was on top of mine. It was where we’d started… but it was good.

Wren gave me the power, and all I wanted was for him to take me apart with it. I held on to his wings and wrapped one leg around him to draw him closer, dragging him so his lips hovered over mine.

Almost there.

An almost kiss.

“Make us come, Wren. Fuck… I need it.”

He’d told me to take what I needed.

I needed him to give me this.

And Wren seemed more than happy to oblige.

He braced himself on his forearms and started rolling his hips in time with the way I stroked his back, raked my nails through his feathers. Every touch sent a tremor though his body, made his cock pulse as it slid along mine in a pantomime of fucking.

I could almost feel it—how thick he’d be inside me.

How he’d hit just right.

How he’d be so hot when he came, painting me from the inside out.

Different than anything I’d felt before.

Better, and…

“Fuck. Harder, Wren.” I squeezed the base of his wings, and he growled when my fingers dug into the skin where they joined at his shoulders. His hips bucked again, faster.

Faster.

Faster, and our breath was punching out of our chests in staccato—I wasn’t thinking about the heat burning through me anymore. I could barely see straight, could barely feel anything but our bodies.

Connected.

And red.

I could see red .

The thread between us, burning with all that fire that had threatened to eat me up from the inside.

Bright and vibrant and so achingly real.

My fingers buried in the warmth of his feathers a second before my body tightened. Orgasm swept over me in a wave that tore a scream from my chest, and I felt the echo of it as Wren followed me down. We were both caught up, wrapped and tangled in one another until I wasn’t sure if I was feeling my pleasure or his…

It didn’t matter.

It was ours.

And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to let go—I wasn’t afraid to feel good. In that moment I gave myself over to it completely, opened myself to the way Wren was feeling. To the way he gave so freely.

It felt like I was flying.

My body seized, and I was faintly aware of the hot, sticky mess painting my chest, slicking Wren’s fingers so he could work us between his hands for another thrust.

Another.

One more.

And then he fell down, rolling to the side so he didn’t crush me.

I couldn’t breathe.

I could barely think.

It took me a few seconds to come back to myself… and to realize that Wren was running his fingers through the mess on my chest, massaging it into my skin like the lingering feel of it might stop me from burning alive again.

Or maybe he just wanted to stain me with the scent of us.

Fuck.

I wasn’t sure which one I wanted it to be.

I felt… almost lost.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

I needed to tell him I was fine.

I needed to tell him to get the fuck out of my bed and go back to his own.

Instead, I turned my body to his and slid my fingers through the cum on my skin. They came away sticky and warm, and I painted that mess on his stomach when I touched him.

I lifted it and slid my fingers to his wings again, stroking the mixture of our pleasure onto their base until Wren’s body gave another little shiver and I felt his cock twitch.

I settled there, with my arm wrapped around him.

I needed to tell him to go.

Instead, I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to look at him as I spoke, because there was every chance he’d be the one to tell me to leave.

“Can you stay?”

I couldn’t breathe in the silence that followed the question, in how terrifying it was to open myself up even that much.

But Wren’s arm slid around me, pulling me close to him so he could yank the covers over us. He didn’t say anything until he had me settled against him, until his wings had folded back into his shoulders and I was pressed against his chest, caught up in the beat of his heart and the smell of our sex.

“I’ll stay.”

It was a whisper, barely audible.

And it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.