Asher hovers over , all rippling muscles and heaving chest, his words hanging in the air between us.
"...there's no rule saying you can't touch yourself, right?"
My brain dies. Just kaboom, explodes, done-for.
Did he just—? Is he suggesting—?
Wait. What now. Did he just—
He wants to WATCH ?
Heat explodes in my face as my eyes go wide. The suggestion alone sends a traitorous pulse of arousal through , but it's instantly swallowed by a tidal wave of utter mortification.
Nope. NO. Never. Not happening.
My thighs may be clenching with need, but my embarrassnt screams louder.
"Absolutely not," I splutter, my voice sowhere around ten octaves higher than normal. I'm not even sure if ten octaves exist, but if they do, I'm there, baby. High and freaked out.
I lurch backward on the bed, scrambling like a freshly squashed insect. My legs are noodles, my dignity a corpse. I manage two feet of retreat before vertigo hits like a sucker punch.
"Shit," I mumble, squeezing my eyes shut and willing the spinning to stop. My stomach lurches dangerously, and for a horrifying second, I think I might actually throw up. Yeah. Way to complete this masterpiece of indignity.
Asher's expression shifts instantly. The heat in his eyes cools, replaced by sharp concern as he takes in my pallor.
"Are you okay?" he demands.
I wave a hand. It might as well be my flag of surrender. "I'm fine... I think. Maybe."
My body can't decide if it wants to chase the lingering arousal or pass out from overexertion. I'm putting my bets on passing out, because no matter how much throbbing there is between my legs, my body can't back it up.
Besides, the kids are out there. And Fenris. And yeah, I get wolves live inside their masters' heads, but oh my Goddess, Fenris was out there the entire ti.
We were basically a sexual audiobook for a wolf.
Not cool.
Asher pulls back, jaw tight. Then he slams a fist into the mattress beside . The entire bed jumps, and fabric tears under his fist. Seriously? How do you rip a sheet with just one punch?
Shifters are just cheating at life at this point, aren't they?
"I shouldn't have touched you," he growls, his voice dripping with self-loathing.
Oops. Way to dial up the drama, Violet.
"No! It's not—" I start to protest.
Except it is. It absolutely is. This—whatever we just did—was too much, too fast. I haven't processed any of it. The sex. The magic. The fact that I'm still dripping with his sen.
Sen.
Which should be gross and totally isn't.
And now my boyfriend (?) is blaming himself when I am one hundred percent the person who asked for more.
Way to go, . I'm an amazing girlfriend. Obviously.
He runs a hand through his dark hair with another growl before standing, and my protests die in my throat as I watch. He adjusts himself, and I wonder vaguely where it's always hiding. I don't generally make a habit of staring at n's crotches, but seriously, shouldn't anacondas in pants be illegal or sothing? Especially when they hide?
His cheeks are faintly flushed, and a light sheen of sweat makes his tattoos gleam. They're calm now, no longer moving, and I wonder if he can feel it when they do.
I look at him helplessly, unable to find words. What do you say after accidentally choking soone's dick with magic, especially when the dick-owner is the one blaming himself for it?
Asher's expression hardens as he moves away from the bed. "Get so rest," he mutters.
"Oh. Um. Okay, but—"
And the jackass doesn't even pause as he jerks the door open.
"Wait. Asher—"
Then it closes.
Dumb , busy ogling him while he's dressed, and now I can't explain it isn't his fault.
I'm dazed and frustrated and confused all at once. The golden energy between us is long gone, and it's left a strange emptiness in , where even my limbs feel hollow and empty.
I flop back onto the bed with a dramatic groan, throwing my arm over my eyes. The ceiling spins above , so I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to find equilibrium.
A shaky laugh bubbles out of , teetering on the edge of hysteria. I was mad at him before this. Mad that he was acting all dostic, taking care of the kids, pushing to the sidelines.
Mad.
How ridiculous. It's nice, being taken care of.
Though now I have to worry about how he's taking this all as his responsibility alone, when I clearly rember asking him to do things to . I'm the one who asked him to kiss . Insisted I could get control. Demanded he touch .
Which was… aweso.
Seriously. Aweso.
Is it always like this? I get why people are so obsessed with sex if it is.
My smile slips as reality creeps back in. I'm still aching between my legs. Still a ss. And I'm only a smidgen closer to understanding this connection between us.
Sothing has to give at so point, right?
In the silence, a buzzing sound cuts through my thoughts. My phone vibrates sowhere on the bed, lost in the rumpled sheets. I pat around blindly, muttering curses as I bat at fabric.
"Where the hell—"
My fingers finally close around the cool tal. I bring it to my face, blinking at the screen.
It's not a text from Echo. It's the weird Divinity App again.
But this ti, there's no text. Just strange, glitchy lines of code. Symbols I don't recognize—so of them don't even stay still, like they're shifting mid-glance. My eyes hurt just looking at them.
I stare at it for a few seconds, trying to decide if I'm hallucinating.
Then I sigh and drop the phone onto the bed.
"Not today, cosmic nonsense."
With a groan, I force myself off the bed. My legs wobble beneath , and I have to grab the wall to keep from falling. One step at a ti, I make my way toward the bathroom, rembering Asher's face as he…
Damn.
I need a shower. And maybe a priest. I wonder if Echo counts. She's sothing more than magic and humanity, isn't she? Maybe she can purify my newly found gutter brain.
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