Page 6 of Storm of Stars (Pride of Praxis #2)

I had my other Wildguard, and they were there for me offering touches, soft words, stolen moments of warmth I clung to like a lifeline.

I let them comfort me, let their affection ease the weight on my chest. But no matter how tightly I held on, it felt…

incomplete. Hollow. Because as long as there was distance between me and Zaffir, something in me remained restless.

Like a piece of my soul was missing from this little circle we’d built.

And no matter how much I wanted to sink into the comfort of the others, it didn’t feel right when I couldn’t have all of them. When I couldn’t have him.

So when we finally dragged ourselves home after the final trial of the week-long gauntlet and were at the start of a rare break on the schedule before whatever new hell Praxis had planned… I didn’t think twice.

Zaffir disappeared into the shower without a word, muscles tight with exhaustion and tension he wouldn’t name.

Ezra was the first to tilt his head, encouraging me to go after him.

He knew, maybe as intimately as I did, how desperate I was for Zaffir’s touch.

Because I think he was too. I saw the way they gravitated toward each other.

I would make sure they got their time soon.

I caught Briar’s knowing smirk and Thorne’s quiet nod as I passed, and I gave them both the most thankful smile I could manage. Then, without fanfare, I slipped into the bathroom after him.

The steam was thick, curling around me like it wanted to swallow the outside world whole. He hadn’t locked the door. And when I stepped inside the look on his face, surprise first, then something softer, nearly undid me.

My gaze traced over him, drinking in every perfect line of his body.

Pale, and smooth like something carved from marble.

Water slid down his shoulders, racing along the planes of his chest and over the sharp cut of his hips.

I bit my bottom lip, hunger curling low in my belly as I took in the sight of him.

“Brexlyn,” he rasped, a raw edge in his voice, like it physically hurt him to stay still.

I met his eyes which were stormy and desperate, and without a single word, I began to strip. One piece at a time, slow enough to torture us both. Each discarded scrap of clothing earned a fresh groan, a sharp inhale, a barely-there clench of his jaw that made me ache to touch him.

When I was bare before him, I stepped forward.

His gaze swept over me, dark and possessive, and I swore I could feel the heat of it lick across my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

My pulse thundered, my body tight and aching, my thighs clenching with a need so sharp it nearly brought me to my knees.

“I missed you,” I said, voice low, barely audible over the rush of water.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The distance we’d forced between ourselves clinging like a second skin.

And then he reached for me, not desperate, not reckless, but like someone finally allowing themselves to breathe again.

I stepped into the stream of water and the warmth was nothing compared to the heat in his gaze.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” he murmured, a smile ghosting at the corner of his mouth as his fingers brushed my wrist. “What if Nova comes by again?”

“I’ve never been very good at following rules,” I breathed back, pressing a kiss against his lips.

He moaned into the kiss, his slick arms wrapping around my waist and holding me in place.

My breasts slid against his chest and I felt his cock hardening against my pelvis.

His kiss was devouring, making up for lost time, and I let my hands trail across every inch of his body that I could reach.

I’d been keeping my distance for so long, but right now, I didn’t want an inch between us.

My hand dipped between us, and when I wrapped my fingers around the base of him, he groaned. “Brexlyn,” he sighed.

“I’ve missed you,” I kissed his lips. “I’ve missed this,” I said, stroking a long languid hand up and down his length. His hips bucked forward almost involuntarily. “I’ve missed your dirty mouth.”

His eyes snapped open with burning intensity. “My dirty mouth, huh?” he asked, his voice rough and lust laden.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Does my girl want me to tell her what to do? And to praise her when she does it well?” he asked, his fingers digging into my back as he held me. I shivered with excitement.

“Yes,” I said again.

“You know, only good girls get praise,” he teased darkly, falling perfectly into his role. “Are you a good girl?”

I nodded, my breath coming in ragged spurts.

“Then get on your knees and show me how good you are, Brexlyn,” he demanded and I felt pleasure jolt through my core.

I wanted to please him, the desperation nearly knocked me off my feet as I lowered myself before him.

My hand continued its gentle stroking of his cock, and I licked my lips at the sight.

The water poured over us, and the sinful image was almost too much for me.

He wanted me to show him how good I could be, and I wanted to be perfect for him.

I darted my tongue out, gently teasing the head of his cock, tasting that precious bead of precum.

We both let out a soft moan as the sensation enveloped us.

Then I took the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as my hand moved.

“Is that as far as you can take me, Brexlyn?” he challenged, and when I glanced up at him, he had one hand cupping my jaw, and one bracing against the tiles of the shower.

He knew I hadn’t even gotten started yet.

I sank onto him, opening my throat to take him all the way to the base.

My nose pressed against his stomach and he let out a dark and sinful sound.

“Holy fuck,” he cursed. “That’s it. God, your mouth is perfect for my cock, isn’t it baby?” I bobbed on his length to show him just how perfect I could be, and he let out a string of low curses, his hand gathering my hair in his grip as he directed my movements.

“Touch yourself for me,” he demanded and I didn’t have to be told twice. My body was desperate for release. After a few rough brushes of my fingertips against my swollen bundle of nerves, I came. My cries were muffled around his cock and I felt my body jolt with the waves of unexpected pleasure.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Zaffir praised, and when I opened my eyes, he was staring down at me like I was a goddess at his feet. Like he was the one worshipping me not the other way around.

I let my tongue dance along the underside of his length and he groaned, then pulled me off of him. I whimpered, already missing the feeling of him stretching my throat.

But when he pulled me off the shower floor, hitched one of my legs over his hips and lined his cock up with my entrance, all disappointment was gone and replaced with pure unbridled lust.

“Take me, Zaffir. Please… I’m yours,” I begged, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as I tried to sink down and claim him, desperate for the connection. But he held me there, a breath away, refusing to give me what we both craved just yet.

His honeyed eyes locked on mine, fierce and unrelenting. “Let’s get one thing straight baby,” he rasped, his voice a promise and a vow all at once. “You don’t belong to me. I belong to you.”

Then he drove into me, claiming every part of me like it was the only thing that mattered.

A broken, desperate cry tore from my throat, the sensation too much, too perfect, too needed.

He pinned me against the cool tile, his thrusts relentless, fueled by the kind of desperate hunger you only feel when you know tomorrow might never come.

Our eyes locked as he drove into me, each relentless thrust was a silent conversation neither of us dared to voice aloud.

There was love in it. Trust. Reckless, dangerous risk.

A promise sealed in sweat and skin and the knowledge that tomorrow might rip us apart.

This wasn’t allowed, not here, not now, not between us.

But it was mine. Ours. And it was goddamn beautiful.

I couldn’t be as open with him as I was with the others, couldn’t reach for his hand in front of Nova or steal a kiss before the trials.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t ache for him just the same.

And here, in this stolen, sacred moment, as he pushed me to the edge of bliss, I knew without question, he burned for me too.

I buried my head in the crook of his neck and whispered, “I love you, Zaffir.” Suddenly, his thrusts slowed to a calmer, more languid pace.

“Say that again,” he demanded. I pulled my head back and met his searching gaze. “Say it again, please.”

“I.” I kissed his cheek. “Love.” Then the other.

“You.” Then his lips. He drank up the kiss, pistoning his hips faster, chasing the release we both felt building in our cores.

Our breath mixed, our groans of pleasure dueting into a symphony of sinful music as he sent me tumbling over the edge into an oblivion of passion.

His body shook beneath mine, and I felt his cock twitch within me as my walls clenched around him.

We didn’t move for a long time, we simply stood there, breathing each other in, letting the water rain down on us as we soaked up each other’s touch. The touch we’d both been starving for.

“I love you too, Brexlyn,” he whispered against my skin, the words sinking deep, rooting in the hollow places I hadn’t realized were still empty. And something inside me shifted, like the last jagged piece of a puzzle was finally snapping into place.

The ache of distance, of ignored glances and careful silences, had been necessary…

but cruel. It had hollowed me out in ways I couldn’t name.

But here, with my arms wrapped around him, his body still joined with mine, the world outside faded.

And suddenly, I felt whole. Like the scattered pieces of my family, they all fit here, in the heat of this moment, in the space between us.

I just hoped I could hold onto it for as long as fate would allow.

We were risking everything, playing a dangerous, reckless game.

And while every one of us had chosen this fight, I couldn’t shake the terror that my Wildguard might not survive it.

The thought of losing them now, right when I’d finally found where I belonged, was a pain I didn’t ever want to feel.