Page 24

CHAPTER

TWENTY

Ezra

I thought telling Kade’s story, my story , would destroy me. The idea of digging up those pieces of my past, of laying bare the darkest, bloodiest corners of my life for the world to gawk at, had felt unbearable. I’d spent a long time convincing myself I’d break if I ever let them see it. If I let anyone see it.

But then I saw the way the color drained from Bex’s face on that stage. The way her reckless, beautiful defiance on my behalf painted a target on her back. And at that moment, it wasn’t a hard decision. It was the easiest one I’d ever made. I knew Kade would’ve thought so too.

While pulling the attention off of her, I somehow set myself free from the weight of that secret.

When we made it back to the house, the truth of it all finally hit me. I muttered something about being tired, excused myself to my room, not to hide, not out of regret, but to finally breathe. For the first time since I got that damn message that my best friend, my brother in every way but blood, had been buried beneath the rubble.

I laid on the bed, arms splayed out, staring up at the cracked ceiling, and for once it felt like I could move without the world pressing in on my chest. It didn’t matter if no one truly believed me, if the stain of the accusations never washed clean. At least tonight, they’d let me speak. They’d listened. Unlike those bastards who closed my trial before I’d even opened my mouth, who condemned me without a word of my defense.

“They know the truth now, Kade,” I whispered to the empty room. I let myself believe he could hear me.

A soft knock broke the silence.

The door creaked open, and there she was. Bex. Still dressed in her interview outfit, all sharp lines and dark Collective colors. Her hair was a little messy but damn, she was beautiful.

“Can I come in?” she asked softly from the threshold.

“Please,” I said, scooting over and patting the empty space beside me.

She crossed the room in a heartbeat, kicked off her shoes, and climbed in, curling against me like we’d done this a thousand times. Her head settled against my chest, and I felt the tightness in my body ease, my hand instinctively finding her hair and combing through it carefully.

“How’s your head feeling?” I asked, my voice low.

“Better,” she murmured. “A doctor stopped by and gave me something for the pain.”

There was a beat. A pause. Then she added, quieter, “He said I was lucky.”

The way she said it, like the word tasted rotten in her mouth, cut through me.

Lucky .

Lucky to survive an attack. Lucky to be paraded like a pawn in a game. Lucky to be given a resource she would never have received in Canyon.

None of us were lucky.

We were fighters. Survivors. Every breath we took now was the product of a war we had to fight.

“It’s not luck. It’s courage.”

She didn’t reply, just nestled a little closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The quiet wasn’t heavy though, it felt… earned, like a breath neither of us realized we’d been holding finally let out. But then, her voice broke the silence, soft and laced with guilt.

“I’m sorry you had to do that, Ezra. That I forced you into it.”

I shook my head and shifted, angling my body so she could see the truth in my face. “No, Bex. Don’t you dare think for a second that any of what happened out there was your fault.”

“But you were covering for my mistake,” she argued, her voice breaking on the words. “I was stupid and reckless. I never should have said any of that.”

“You didn’t say a damn thing that wasn’t true,” I told her, my voice low and steady. “If anything… It's my fault. I should’ve told you why I was on the ballot before it came to that. I should’ve never let them catch you off guard.”

She shook her head, stubborn to the end. “I told you I didn’t need to know.”

“And I should’ve told you anyway,” I said, my thumb tracing the curve of her cheek as I cupped her face. “You deserve to know every part of me, Bex. The good, the bad… the parts I still hate when I look in the mirror. I want you to know me. The real me.”

Her hand came up to cover mine, holding it against her skin. “I already knew who you were, Ezra,” she whispered. “I’ve known since that night at the train bar. You can lie to a thousand cameras, but you never could lie to me.”

Something in my chest cracked open at that, something raw and aching and so goddamn grateful it hurt.

I couldn’t stop myself and I didn’t want to. I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers. She let out a soft, desperate sound against my mouth, and I felt her fingers tangle in my shirt, pulling me closer like she could crawl inside my skin.

My hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her in place as my mouth claimed hers, tasting the hint of fire and sorrow and stubborn hope. The kiss deepened, hunger blooming between us like something feral. It was messy, aching, a tether between two people who knew the world was coming for them and wanted to steal whatever pieces they could before it did.

Her leg slid over my hip, her weight settling against me as she moved to straddle my lap. My body responded before my mind caught up, heat flaring under my skin as her hands cupped my face, her lips never leaving mine.

My cock was achingly hard beneath her warm core. She moved her hips, gliding her covered center over mine, and the friction was sinful and all too tempting.

I broke the kiss, barely. Logic winning out over lust. “Your head..” I whispered. “You should rest.”

She bent down, pressing a promising kiss to my throat before whispering in my ear. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” Her hips swirled again, pressing her core against my hardened length. I gripped her hips with selfish and desperate fingers and guided her back and forth, relishing in the soft sounds the movement elicited from her throat.

I reached behind her, and without a care in the world, ripped the back of the stupid dress wide open. She gasped, but then sought my lips again with more fervor. I tore the dress from her body, pulling the remaining fabric over her head until it revealed her bare breasts, and panty clad core. Sitting up, I claimed one of her nipples with my mouth. My tongue darted across the hardened peak as she arched into my hold.

“Ezra,” she exhaled, clawing at my button down until she pushed it off my shoulders and down my arms.

I needed her more than I’d ever needed air to breathe. Which is saying something considering I was moments from drowning just this morning.

I quickly slid my pants off my body as she rushed to remove her panties. Finally, we were both bare before each other, our chests heaved, our breath mingled, our eyes were locked. I pulled her hips down, until her wet core pressed against my cock. We both groaned, then she rocked her hips, slowly teasingly sliding her slickness along the length of me. My head fell back at the pure sensation of it.

“I need you,” she whimpered, and I forced my eyes open so that I could watch her as she lifted, wrapped a delicate hand around the base of my cock and lined me up with her slick entrance. The tip of my cock was notched at her opening, and I could already feel her stretching for me. Her teeth caught her bottom lip as she met my gaze, then nodded.

With my hands on her hips, I pulled her down onto me at a tantalizing slow pace. I wanted her to feel every single inch of me. I wanted to stretch her. To alter her body to fit mine. She was made for me.

For us.

And I wanted her body to know it.

When I was finally seated fully inside of her, we both exhaled a long satisfied sigh. She felt perfect.

“How do you feel?” I asked, knowing that even if it took every ounce of energy I had, I’d pull her off of me if she needed me to. I scanned her face looking for any sign of pain. But all I saw was undiluted lust.

“I feel like I need you to make me come now,” she said before lifting and slamming back down onto my length.

“Fuck,” I cursed as the sensation sent a shockwave of ecstasy through me. My girl wanted to be fucked, so she would be fucked. I tightened my hold on her body and lifted her just enough so I could piston my hips up into her. She gasped with each powerful thrust. Her hands clawed at my shoulders.

I’d never seen something more beautiful than my girl, hair messy, makeup smudged, skin perfectly pink. Her breasts bounced as she slammed down onto me, so perfectly tempting, so I took a nipple into my mouth again. Grazing my teeth along them, I bit down slightly, which earned me a low growl of approval from the temptress who was riding me like she owned me. Which she did. Heart, body and soul.

“More,” she begged. And I wasn't one to leave my girl wanting for anything. So I slipped my hand between us and pressed my thumb against her throbbing clit. She bucked against my hand, her eyes falling closed as her head tilted back. I slammed into her, working her clit in tandem with each thrust. Her hold on my shoulders tightened and I knew she was close to her release.

I released my last hold on her hips and let her take over guiding her body down onto me at the pace she needed as she chased her orgasm, and brought my free hand to her neck, pulling her lips to mine again.

This kiss was all tongue, teeth and desperation. Her moans grew heavy and loud as she bounced on my cock faster and faster. My balls drew up tight to my body as I felt my own wave crest. Finally, her slick channel clamped onto me as her release found her. The pressure of her body claiming mine ripped my own release from me as well. I rested my head on her chest and held her tightly as we both rode out the waves of passion rushing through our bodies. My cock throbbed, and her muscles tightened around me. I’d never felt something so goddamn perfect.

When our breathing slowed and our hearts stopped racing like we were still running from the world, I felt her body tremble, a soft, breathless laugh slipping from her lips. I opened my eyes to find her looking down at me, her hair tousled, her cheeks flushed, and that wickedly beautiful smile curving her mouth. She looked like chaos and salvation wrapped in one. Like something I’d never stop chasing as long as I lived.

I reached up and claimed her mouth again, because how could I not?

“I am desperately in love with you, Brexlyn Hollis,” I whispered against her lips, the words tasting like a promise I didn’t know I was brave enough to make until right then.

She sucked in a sharp, startled breath and then smiled, eyes gleaming.

“And I am in love with you, Ezra Wynstone,” she whispered back, her voice rough and sure like a vow.

I kissed her again, because no words in any language could come close to what she made me feel. But she knew. God, she knew. I loved her with every broken, bruised, and stubborn piece of me, and with every part I hadn’t figured out yet. I’d give her anything. Be anything she needed. Hell, I’d share her heart with the others if that’s what made her happiest. Because I wanted her to know I loved her.

And I intended to show her just how much… at least a few more times tonight.