Chapter 89 You will
SOMA
The word echoes around us. Brynne opens his eyes and smirks.
“You will,” he tells me, his eyes alight with mischief. “You will, Somi.”
“I hate you,” I mutter.
He grins. “I know. Spread your legs.” My body obeys, and he drags the lace down my hips. “Wider, Somi.”
My legs part even more, giving him freedom to slip the underwear off freely. When it’s gone, he brings it to his nose. I expect him to sniff it like the last time, but he turns to the crotch area and licks the evidence of my arousal that I left behind. The sight should have repulsed me, but my thighs tremble around him.
His fingertips graze my skin, dragging upward until they stop at one of my old scars. “How did you get your scars?”
“None of your business,” I reply.
He clicks his tongue, both hands coming to the neckline of my nightwear to rip it down the middle. I gasp, but he tears the scrap off me, tossing what’s left to the floor.
“Do you want me to take mine off too?” he asks.
My cheeks heat, and I look away. “Suit yourself.”
A moment later, something firm and metallic rubs against my wet entrance. I inhale, my fingers curling into the sheet. He’s naked. Every part of him is bare for me to see. It’s his first time getting naked with me, and that fact makes my heart clench as hard as my core throbs.
My fingers itch to run over his abs and biceps. Before I can decide, his body stretches over mine, his chest touching mine. My nipples graze his skin, and I hiss out a breath. He’s so warm, I want him inside me, to be one with him. I want to be inside him.
It makes no sense.
“I knew you’d want it,” he whispers. “Missed me?”
Yes. But I’ll never tell him that. He doesn’t seem to care for my words because he claims my lips. It’s the softest he’s ever kissed me, like he’s telling a story. My hands lift of their own volition, dragging across his hair as he brands me with his tongue and fuels me with his taste. When he tilts forward, his tip and piercing slip into my core, and I gasp against his lips.
It happens again, confirming the first time wasn’t an accident. My back arches, and my fingernails scrape his back. He continues to devour me with his mouth, his thrust growing more paced without fully penetrating me.
I don’t know what we’re doing anymore. I can’t tell if this is sex or foreplay, or a tease. But it has my entire body coiling like a live wire ready to explode. He breaks the kiss with a harsh breath, panting softly as he kisses the corners of my lips, then my jaw.
Trailing wet kisses down, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, and I forget to be quiet. I beg, but his teeth only skim my nipple, his tongue swirling over my areola.
My eyes close. Stars dot my vision. No one has ever touched me this intimately or with such gentle care. Right now, I can tell I matter to him. Not only because of what I can offer him.
He moves to the next nipple, his fingers fondling the one still wet with his spit. My hands shake as I reach down to cup his ass, nerves keeping me from squeezing as hard as I want. He’s firm in all the right places, muscles built from days of rigorous training.
Mild pain snaps me out of the moment when he bites down on my nipple, his tongue flicking over it almost immediately like he hadn’t meant for that to happen.
The pain blooms into pleasure, and I jerk my hip forward. Brynne releases my nipples, but not to thrust or pound into me the way we both deserve.
His eyes meet mine. “Did your aunt or cousin ever hit you?”
“Maybe.”
“You never have to go back to them,” he says.
The possessiveness in his voice surprises me. But I’m determined not to assume anything unless he’s as explicit as he is when he wants pleasure or my underwear.
“I know.” My lips curl in a mischievous smile before I add, “Thanks to your father and the high priestess.”
Brynne chuckles, his lips brushing the skin between my breasts before he kisses one scar, then another. Each move is delicate and deliberate, like he’s replacing every terrible memory associated with the scar with his lips. I sweep his hair back, courage welling in my chest. My hand wanders again, sliding between us where he’s frozen inside me, pulsing without doing more.
Once my hands close around his balls and I tug, he erupts between my thighs. His entire body shakes as he holds himself up on his elbows, his release flooding my core. I keep massaging his balls, my eyes on him so I can see how much power I also have over him. How much of him can be in my control as long as I learn to use the right move.
“Somi,” he breathes. “Fuck.”
I lean forward to kiss him briefly. “You still owe me an apology.”
He chokes on a laugh. His body convulses before he relaxes and falls back to the bed. He doesn’t leave me wanting for long. His long, efficient fingers stroke me, parting my folds open to take more of his release. With his sperm as a natural lubricant, it’s easy to have me moaning and whimpering again. I bite my lip as a wave of orgasm slams into me. It hits with a force that temporarily blinds me, and my vision goes hazy.
When I recover, Brynne is watching me with a smile. He moves closer, dragging my leg over his hip. The sticky liquid drips down my thighs, and my breath falters when his crown sits at my entrance.
“Brynne,” I whisper.
“Relax,” he tells me. Like that’s possible. I don’t know how he’s hard again so soon. His thumb caresses my clit, and as I cry out, he pushes in, tearing through the barrier until he’s fully seated inside me. His piercings rub against my walls, and it elicits a delicious sound from me. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” I confess.
He adjusts, and I moan his name when he finds the best spot within me. His length pulses in my core, but he doesn’t try to do more. I stare up at him as he pulls me closer until our bodies are flushed. My fingers run across his carved jaw, inching higher until they settle into his hair.
The fullness is not something I planned, but I like it. It’s an extension of him that’s always welcome, even when we aren’t on good terms. When he winks, I realize this might be the best birthday of my life.
Sleep presses against my eyelids, and he kisses my forehead. “Goodnight, Somi.”
“Goodnight, asshole,” I reply.
As I drift off to sleep, I hear a muffled: “Happy birthday, Somi. The fire was a mistake, but I swear on the Moon Goddess, no one’s ever hurting you again.”