Page 20 of Love’s Ace

Chapter 20

Theo

T he jolt of pain that ripped through my body barely had a chance to register before I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.

It didn’t matter.

The pain didn’t matter—even the sizzling agony of whatever Gethin had done to throw me out of his house didn’t matter.

Because I could feel something worse deep in my chest.

Something that I shouldn’t have been feeling.

Something I’d sworn I would never let myself feel again.

Betrayal.

When had I started trusting Wren enough to feel that? When had I been stupid enough to let my goddamn guard down, so he could somehow slip past my ribs and slide a knife into my heart?

I knew better.

I knew better.

But he’d still done it.

And he wanted me dead.

And what hurt the most was realizing that he would be better off if I was. That he would heal from my death. That he’d stop being broken by being tied to a fuck-up like me.

I’d only known him for a few days. Some fucked-up red thread that should never have been there wasn’t going to dictate how I acted.

A few nights of him holding me—the first nights in years that I’d gone without nightmares—wasn’t going to dictate my behavior.

And it wasn’t going to be the reason Wren was punished. I wasn’t going to be the reason his wings were ripped off.

Maybe I’d spent most of my life being worthless and useless, but I could at least manage that much.

I could at least make sure that out of everything I’d ever fucked up, he wasn’t one of those things.

I’d managed to walk far enough that Gethin’s house was no longer in sight, when I heard footsteps behind me over the downpour of the rain. I didn’t have to turn to know that Wren was chasing me, and I didn’t bother looking to see how close he was. I could tell by the way the pressure in my chest eased with each step he took, and I could tell by the way my heart thundered harder the closer he got.

“Theo.” He shouted my name again. It was closer this time—close enough that I could almost feel him pressed against me.

Close enough that the pain and panic zinging through my body was a fucked-up mixture of his and my own.

“Fuck off , Wren. I’m just doing what you wanted. Trust me, you don’t have to kill me.” My voice was thick, but I kept walking. “I can manage it for you.”

Would it be easier if he knew what I intended to do? Would it be easier if I ripped the thread from my chest first so he didn’t have to feel it? My hands came up, wrapping around the line of crimson… but I couldn’t do it.

I could feel the heat of it—the heat of him—and I couldn’t talk myself into pulling hard enough to tear it out of my chest.

I—

I didn’t know what was happening at first. The world suddenly went sideways, and it took me a second to understand that the echoing sound of pain that spilled from my lips and Wren’s was because he’d knocked me to the ground.

My body reacted on instinct, and I felt the rip of pain when my claws tore into his shoulder, trying to shove him away.

“Get off me, Wren.” The demand spilled in a growl from my chest, a rumble that vibrated through me and threatened to tear the darkness from between my ribs so it could engulf me.

“No,” he snapped back. His hands shifted, trying to pin mine to the ground. I struggled under the touch, curling my fingers into a fist and slamming my knuckles into his jaw. I didn’t even care that it made my ears ring. I didn’t care that my head felt like it would burst from the echo of pain.

He had to let me go.

He had to get off me.

I wasn’t going to bring us both down.

“Let me go , you fucking asshole,” I snapped again, but somewhere between trying to connect my fist to his face and wanting to sound furious, the words cracked on the back of my tongue. They came out fissured, aching. Full of pain. Edged with tears.

“ No .” Wren’s voice was a snarl in comparison to mine, and he managed to force my wrist back down again. His knee came up, slipping between my legs so he could pin me to the ground.

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t breathe .

“You have to. I’m not doing this , Wren. I’m not letting you kill me, and I’m not—”

“ No one is killing you, you fucking asshole. Don’t you get it?” He leaned in, so close I could see the rain catching in his lashes, so close the violet of his eyes were like gravity, like universes. Like the end of forever, pulling me in.

“I—”

The pelting chill of the rain suddenly stopped, and it took me a second to realize why. Wren’s wings were out, sheltering me, wrapped around us both.

“No one is killing you. No one is hurting you . No one is taking you away from me, Theo. Do you understand?”

Fuck.

Fuck .

He couldn’t say shit like that.

The surge of fear that ripped through me was enough to let me push him off so I could scramble back on hands and knees. I couldn't see past the hot sting in my eyes of the tears that were threatening to fall… because those words were sharper than any arrow, more capable of breaking me apart than any monster or cupid.

I lashed out again, and this time my fingers took him across the chest, claws tearing his shirt open and leaving behind streaks of golden blood.

The pain couldn’t even touch the fear and longing building behind my ribs.

“Wren, don’t .” I said it again when he moved closer, cried out when I swiped at him and he caught my hand.

I nearly crumbled when he linked our fingers together and jerked me against his chest, rolling us back to the ground.

“No one gets to hurt you, because you’re mine . It doesn’t have to make sense, Theo. You don’t have to understand it, because I sure as fuck don’t. But you are, and you have been from that first night we met—since you were born— we were made for each other. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I don’t give a fuck how the thread between us happened. It’s real.” He dragged my hand until it pressed between us—I could feel my heartbeat thundering. I could feel the echoing pulse of his, matching the beat like it was a rhythm made just for us. “ This is real.”

Lost.

I was lost in the ocean of his emotions; endless, fathomless, warm and unwavering and demanding.

I was lost the second that damn arrow went through my chest—the second he’d touched me.

From the first time I saw him.

Wanting Wren was a fight I couldn’t win… and for the first time in my life, I was tired of fighting.

I just wanted to feel . I wanted to believe him when he said I was his.

I wanted—

Wren’s mouth crashed against mine, and the press of his lips carried the strength of the storm around us. It swept me away, and the tears I’d been trying to hold back fell from my eyes like rain.

My fingers still pushed him, curling into fists in an attempt to shove him away. I wanted this, I wanted him . I hit him and clung to him, fought to get him away from me and scrambled to keep him close until I wasn’t sure at all what I was doing, what I was thinking.

I only knew everything that had been happening had been leading to this moment, and now that I was here, there’d never been another end for me.

There’d never been another possibility.

Wren pulled back just long enough to search my face, and the expression tried to break me all over again. I could see it, the way he wanted to make sure I was okay with what was happening… the way he was worried, even though I’d barely told him anything about my past, about the things that had hurt me and the agony that still lingered when I thought about it.

But Wren didn’t make me feel that way. I was afraid, I was terrified… but I was more frightened of him stopping.

That would break me more than anything else.

“Fuck you, Wren. Fuck .” I snapped it out and balled my hands into the ruined front of his shirt, dragging his lips back to mine in the only form of an answer I could give to his unspoken question.

I wanted this, and he had to realize I meant it, even if I fought him while it was happening. Wren seemed ready to forgive me, whether I met him with fist or knife—he seemed willing to still touch me, to still hold me, to still feel me in a way that no one ever had.

I’d done a damn good job my entire life of not becoming addicted to anything; I’d done drugs, I’d drunk, but I’d never felt like they were things I had to have.

I knew without a doubt in my mind, the taste of Wren’s lips and the feel of his forgiveness, his acceptance, was something I could quickly grow to crave, to need to survive.

I was willing to give myself over to it, because if I had to stop what we were doing now, I was certain I would die.

I groaned when his tongue delved into my mouth, sucking greedily on the taste of him. The feel of wet grass and mud soaking into my jeans—grave dirt and clean rain—wasn’t a deterrent. I was greedy, so greedy for the feel of my fingers stroking through his feathers and the way every touch made him writhe against me that I didn’t care if I was breaking my own rules by letting him hold me down. I’d deal with the fear if it meant I got to keep him close.

It didn’t come.

There was just Wren and the feel of him sucking on my lower lip—Wren and the fact that I could feel the coppery heat of his blood on my tongue, sweeter than anything I’d ever tasted before.

There was just Wren and the way he made me need so much that I could barely understand his words when he pulled back.

“Let me show you.”

He had to say it twice, and I still wasn’t sure what he meant. I looked up at him with the rain dripping from his hair, with his wet feathers warm beneath my fingers.

“Show me what?”

Wren dipped his head like he couldn’t say the words while he was looking at me. He licked the rain from my jawline and buried his face against my throat, speaking against my thundering pulse instead. “Let me show you my arrow wasn’t wrong, Theo.”

His arrow.

The thread between us.

Soulmates .

It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t believe in soulmates, but that didn’t seem to matter.

“Please?” I whispered, and I did the only thing I could do. I squeezed the base of his wings until he cried out against me, then spread my legs so when his body writhed forward, there was room for him to press against me.

I wanted to be skin to skin, with nothing between us, and I didn’t care if someone wandering by tried to come into the graveyard in the middle of the night. They could see us—they could see me, giving myself willingly, letting myself think for the first time that something could be real.

“All right,” Wren murmured against my skin, his fingers sliding down the length of my body and squeezing my hips. And then again, softer. “All right.”

And even though I’d invited him to do it, even though I wanted it, I couldn’t stop the small pulsing tremors and shivers that ran through me when Wren’s fingers carefully unfastened my jeans and wriggled them down the length of my body. I started to struggle again, my nails digging into his skin until I could feel the cut of them against my back, my teeth sinking into the juncture of his neck and shoulder until it made us both hiss.

But Wren was still gentle when he pulled my pants down and flung the wet fabric to the side. His gaze stayed focused on me as he slowly stripped us both so we were covered in nothing but rain, blood, and the wet earth beneath us.

His touch was a whisper when he ran his fingers down my damp thighs and let out a shuddery breath, like the feel of my bare skin was doing something to him.

His hands were doing something to me . I didn’t realize how much I needed this until just now, until the feel of him dipping down to press a soft kiss to my inner thigh brought my back up off the ground like he’d touched me somewhere deeper, somewhere that no one had ever seen.

And it was almost like he was. I didn’t know when I’d ever been touched by someone who wasn’t trying to hurt me. It meant even more because I’d made him bleed, because I was still squirming and struggling. I couldn’t figure out how to let go, how to stop fighting.

I couldn’t figure out how to not be afraid.

“Theo…” He spoke my name against the dip where my thigh met my pelvis, a heat that tickled along my skin and made me shiver. “It’s okay.”

“I—” I whimpered, my hips rocking up to meet the press of his lips, while my nails dug into his shoulders again before stroking along the top of his wings. “I don’t… know… h-how…”

“It’s okay.” He said it again, chasing the words with the heat of his tongue. I gasped, fingers scrambling in feathers as he ran a hot stripe up the length of my cock before he took me into his mouth.

Never… I’d never had someone do this for me. When I glanced down the length of my body, the sight of Wren’s plush lips wrapped around my cock—a trail of blood sliding from the corner of his mouth where I’d hit him—was almost too much.

When his dark lashes fluttered and he glanced up, I could almost feel the walls and barriers I’d so carefully constructed, guarded so viciously, crumbling and cracking under the weight of him—the weight of what he was offering, of what he wanted to give me.

No one gets to hurt you, because you’re mine .

Mine.

I’d never wanted to belong to someone before.

The word mine always came with strings wrapped in shards of glass, meant to strangle me.

But with Wren…

Fuck, with Wren it was shackles I wanted to wear. It was gossamer strands tying me to him at every point our bodies touched.

It was a red thread, trailing between his chest and mine, making my heart beat for the first time.

And for the first time, I couldn’t stop myself. I was clear, coherent. I wasn’t under the influence of the heat surging through my body and driving me to the point of breaking.

I was just drunk on Wren.

“Please.” I whispered it again, like the rain pouring down around us could somehow veil the word, make it safer. But Wren heard me, because his fingers on my thighs squeezed tight, then he slipped his arms beneath my hips to wrap around me. He sucked my cock like he was drinking down the rain, like it was the purest thing he’d ever tasted.

Wren took me to the back of his throat and swallowed around me, and I couldn’t stop the shivers that started to tear along my spine. When he flattened his tongue and licked along my base, dropping one hand between my legs to gently cup my balls, I whimpered.

“Wren, I don’t know if I can… I—” How did I tell him that I wasn’t going to last if he kept doing this? That I wasn’t going to be good for anything in return if he kept touching me this way? I felt like liquid, incapable of doing anything but moving to make space as he dipped below my surface.

I just had to hope he didn’t drown in the waves of everything wrong with me.

“You’re perfect just the way you are,” he pulled back and whispered against my hip, pressing a sloppy kiss there, sticky with precum. He hadn’t read my mind, but maybe he could feel the spikes of my panic through our connection.

Or maybe he just knew what to say because the red line trailing between us meant he was the only one who could ever have said it.

“Wren…”

“Just stay still and let me show you .”

Show me.

I shivered one more time and let my shoulders drop flat to the damp earth, and nodded.

“Okay…” My fingers were careful when they trailed through his hair, slicking back the black strands so I could see his eyes as they softened.

I wanted this.

I watched as he lowered his head again and gave himself over to what he was doing, licking and lapping, sucking me down and working his tongue along the base of my shaft every time he came up for air. Wren fucked me with his mouth like he was on a mission, and all I could do was claw at the ground beneath us to keep from shredding his shoulders as he pushed me over the edge.

The feel of Wren hollowing his cheeks when I shoved against his shoulders in warning of my orgasm made my vision white out. When it finally cleared, he’d spread my legs and dropped his chin while still looking at me.

A thick mixture of my cum and his saliva, swirled crimson with the blood from where I’d hit him, strung from his lips and fell to his palm, mixing with the rain on his skin.

“What are you—” My voice cut off in another groan when he slicked his fingers through the mixture and dropped his hand between my legs. The hot press of his digits against my hole made me tense for a second, but then he was there—his mouth hovered just above mine, and my tongue darted out of its own volition and licked the taste of my pleasure from his lips.

“Let me in?” He whispered it against my mouth. The soft tone made me groan and spread my legs wider—it made me burn for an entirely different reason. The heat trapped beneath my skin was so tangible I felt like the rain should be evaporating. Instead, Wren licked it from my jawline as he worked one finger inside me slowly.

He was soft—patient. He brought his hand up to smear his fingers in the mixture of blood and cum, then spit in his palm again, and when he came back it was two fingers this time. My body was already so relaxed from the orgasm he’d just given me that it was easy to do what he asked—easier than it should have been… but somehow, with Wren on top of me, I was having trouble summoning up memories of anyone else.

I was dizzy with him, and every time I closed my eyes and started to drift, started to think about all the ways this could hurt, he caught my jaw with his teeth and nipped, bringing me back to the focus of his violet eyes and the spread of his wings. The feel of him pressed over me in tandem with the phantom sensation of how I felt beneath him.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, and I couldn’t do anything else. No one who had ever touched me looked so fucking ethereal.

Wren was like a dream, and I wanted to fall into him. Dreams couldn’t hurt me—dreams, for the longest time, had been the only safe place I could exist.

And I was starting to realize that in every dream I’d ever had, the flowers were the same shade as Wren’s eyes.

His fingers worked in and out of me, slowly at first, opening me up in a soft burn that turned into something deeper as he worked his way inside and crooked his digits to brush against my prostate. After a few minutes, my body was rocking in time with his gentle insistence, and my hands clawing at the ground shifted to wrap around his shoulders, to drag him to my hungry lips so I could lick into his mouth in perfect time to the fire he sparked along my spine.

I needed more.

I needed everything .

For the first time, I was giving myself to someone because I wanted to—because I needed to. Now that it was happening, I was greedy for it. It felt like this was the only chance I was ever going to get to have it, and I wanted it all.

“Wren.” I panted it into his mouth and he pulled back instantly, eyes searching my face, fingers stilling inside me. The rain came down around us, and somewhere in the distance I heard thunder rumble… and I said the only word I could. “More.”

I got to watch his pupils dilate, black looped in the slightest halo of violet. I fell into that expression and knew I’d come out the other side of this changed.

He shifted above me, and it took me a second to realize he was pumping his dick with the rest of the mixture in his palm, slicking himself before shifting his hips so the thick head of his cock pressed against my ass. Wren hovered there, his eyes drunk with desire, more feral than I’d ever seen him. I could see the fine tremor of it in his arms, making his shoulders shiver…

My fingers wrapped around the base of his wings and I squeezed, pulling him to me. I didn’t have to say anything else. His lower body rocked forward and his cock slid inside me, one slow inch at a time, stretching and filling me, leaving me breathless and so fucking connected.

Between us, the red line flared so bright it nearly blinded me.

Wren shuddered above me, his eyes staring at the glow between us for a beat before he slowly withdrew and rocked his hips to thrust back inside me. The feel of him gliding so deep, over all the places I never wanted anyone to touch, was almost too much. Too intense.

I didn’t realize my eyes were burning with tears until he leaned down and pressed his lips to my lashes, kissing them away.

“Stay with me.” He said it again, and his arms slid beneath me to cradle my head as he started to move in earnest. He fucked into me, slow and steady, and between the ministrations of his fingers earlier and the feel of him rocking in and out of me now as his damp abs played against my cock, I could feel myself getting hard again.

I wanted him too much.

I needed this too much.

I was terrified, but I was more afraid of pushing him away… so I did the only thing I could.

I let go.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his and I let myself feel .

I let myself fall into the connection running between us, where each thrust of his cock sent double-sensation through my body—the heat of him pulsing through me, the thrill of my body clenching around him. I could feel all of it, everything .

I gave myself over to it and kissed Wren as he fucked me, slow and gentle, and then faster as my body opened to him—all I could feel was how thick he was inside me and how tight I was around his cock. How the head of his dick kept dragging over my prostate, and how the feel of my fingers squeezing around his wings was little shoots of pleasure that kept trying to push him over the edge.

All I could feel was him.

All I could feel was us .

Skin slapping against skin played a duet with the rain, a litany to the sky, to the storm, to whatever fate existed that had brought us together… because it was obvious.

Fuck, it was so obvious that this was what I’d needed all along. I was flooded with the scent of berries and chocolate, and was drowning in the pleasure that was slowly building in my stomach—fire more violent than the one that had sent me out into the rain to begin with.

I wanted to burn for Wren.

A second orgasm caught me off guard and I shouted, my mouth diving down and sharp teeth setting into Wren’s shoulder. He cried out in tandem, and I knew it was the feel of my pleasure that dragged him with me. We were both swallowed up by the waves around us, both drowning and clinging to each other like the only two people in a sea of darkness, lost beneath the surface and tied together with a red string as pleasure pulled us to the depths.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped biting him until the taste of copper on my tongue was punctuated with the feel of me panting something over and over again.

His name.

Desperate and needy and so familiar on my tongue, it felt like it was the first word I’d ever said.

Wren was my goddamn religion in that moment, and the pleasure pulsing through me was my place of worship—an alter I was ready to bow down to over and over again if I could feel this .

If I could just keep feeling him and how much he wanted me. How much he wanted to keep me .

Because I could feel it. The connection between us was so blown open that I could feel the truth in his words from earlier.

Mine.

He’d called me his, and in this vulnerable place where he was spilling inside me and crying out my name while my body spasmed around him, I could feel how much he meant it.

It just made me come harder.

I felt strung out on the dual sensation, boneless as Wren thrust into me one more time and then collapsed on top of me, his wings spreading wide to keep us both sheltered from the rain.

We stayed that way for a while, relearning how to breathe. When Wren finally pulled back, his expression was careful.

Vulnerable.

Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against mine before he finally let his question out. “Can I show you something, Theo?”

A small part of me wanted to tell him I didn’t think my body could handle anything else, but there was something in the way he’d asked that kept my sarcasm on the back of my tongue.

“What?”

His brows drew together, and his wings shivered behind him. When he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine again, I brought my hands up to stroke them in encouragement.

“I want to show you the sky. Will you let me?”

He pulled back, and I couldn’t stop the soft smile that spread across my face.

“You want to take me flying?”

He only hesitated for a second this time.

“Yeah, I want to take you flying.”

It would have been too sappy to tell him that he already had, so I nodded instead.