Wild game, p.21
Wild Game, page 21
“Ooh, I like snuggly Grace,” he teased. “And I always had you to talk to. Just because you couldn’t remember the background information, don’t underestimate how much those conversations meant to me. I looked forward to seeing you every single night, and I wouldn’t change any of it.”
“So can we go back upstairs then? Because I distinctly remember being promised alone time with you,” I reminded him, resting my head on his shoulder and brushing my lips over his neck.
“You don’t have to ask me to do anything,” Bullet laughed. “Give me orders, Amazing Grace. I’ll follow you anywhere.”
I stood, coffee forgotten, and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of his seat and tugging him behind me back into the house. I knew he wasn’t lying—he would be more than happy to take orders from me. He’d enjoy it. And I kind of wondered if I’d enjoy giving them? Bullet made me feel powerful, and I could admit that I liked that feeling, maybe a little more than I should.
My grip on Bullet’s hand was firm as I led him up the stairs to the bedroom, very conscious of the fact that it was essentially a balcony, with no wall or door dividing it from the rest of the house, and Riot and Wild could walk in at any time. Which made a new wave of butterflies take flight in my stomach at just the thought of them being nearby.
Maybe it was that dark side of me speaking, but the idea of Wild hearing Bullet and I together, giving him the push he needed to embrace the connection between us, watching like he had for so long…
“I’d love to know what you’re thinking,” Bullet laughed, huffing slightly to catch his breath after I’d forced him to jog up the stairs.
“Bad things,” I replied, pushing him onto the bed. “Things that good agathos girls don’t think.”
“Those are my favorite kind of thoughts.” Bullet gave me a wicked smile. “I’m at your mercy, Amazing Grace. What are you going to do with me?”
I sunk my teeth into my lower lip, running my eyes down his body, catching on the erection that was already tenting his trousers. What was I going to do with him?
“Strip for me,” I whispered shakily, bracing myself for him to say no. Or worse, laugh.
Bullet stood slowly, maintaining eye contact as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his inked chest and the golden bullet resting against his skin. He shrugged off the material, dropping the discarded shirt on the floor before pushing down his shorts, kicking them away and opening his arms to display his naked body, as if to say come and get it.
“Lie down,” I ordered, stubbornly tilting my chin up. Bullet smirked at me, but the arousal in the bond didn’t lie. He found this as sexy as I did.
If only I knew what I was doing, I thought wryly. The idea of taking him in my mouth for the first time was tempting—very tempting—but the idea of being bad at it was mortifying. Especially when I already knew I could make him come with my hands. Safe. Reliable. Still very sexy.
I kneeled next to Bullet on the bed, still fully clothed because something about that appealed to me, wrapping one hand around his cock and leaning forward to capture his lips with mine. He tucked his hands under his head, leaving him spread out and pliant beneath me, and a rush of arousal rushed straight to my clit. Bullet groaned against my mouth, sucking my lower lip and scraping it gently with his teeth as I pulled back. The image of him sucking on my clit in this position popped into my head, and the desire in the air between us turned thick.
“Whatever you’re thinking, do it,” Bullet pleaded. “I want it.”
“You don’t know what it is!” I huffed a quiet laugh, adjusting my grip so I could twist my hand the way he liked.
“I know I want it,” he countered, sounding borderline sullen. “Let me pleasure you, please.”
Swoop went my belly again at the idea of him craving my pleasure, at the idea of me taking it. “Let me know if you change your mind,” I told him solemnly, releasing his cock and shuffling up the bed on my knees. I wasn’t wearing any panties because there hadn’t been any in the supplies we’d been given yesterday. Since we were planning on walking into the village later, that hadn’t particularly bothered me, but suddenly, I felt very, very bare.
“Oh my gosh, I can’t do this,” I laughed, sitting back on my heels and clapping my hands over my flushed cheeks. Who did I think I was?
“Hey, Amazing Grace,” Bullet said gently, leaning up to tug my wrists back down. “Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Sit on my face.”
“That is what I was thinking,” I admitted, my face growing even hotter as Bullet used his hold on my wrists to pull me over his head, laughing as my sundress covered him completely the moment I straddled him. I quickly pulled it up, before remembering that I had nothing on underneath it, but his face was already there before I could hitch the fabric back down again, brushing soft kisses over my inner thighs.
“I have dreamed about doing this for so long,” he murmured, pushing my dress all the way up my thighs and encouraging me closer. Despite my sudden rush of insecurity, I braced myself on the wrought iron headboard behind his head, lowering my body to his eagerly waiting mouth.
The moment his tongue swiped over my slit, I forgot my self-consciousness completely. I already knew I enjoyed this act, but I hadn’t been prepared for how powerful being in this position made me feel. Deciding to compartmentalize my shyness and just go for it, I reached between my legs, making a V with my fingers to give Bullet better access, and he rewarded me with a long groan as his tongue swiped determinedly over my core, exploring what I liked.
I already knew where I wanted him though.
“You better tell me if you want to stop,” I warned—well, sort of moaned—and with that, I angled my hips so his tongue swiped my clit and rocked against his face with absolutely no shame whatsoever.
It just felt so good. I’d question when I became such a wanton woman… later.
Bullet groaned again, and I felt him shifting beneath me, his hips thrusting slightly too as I rolled mine, like he was getting off on pleasuring me so much that he was struggling to hold himself back. It was another heady rush of arousal, and I sunk my teeth into my lower lip, throwing my head back and relaxing into the orgasm that was rapidly creeping up on me.
I came with a muffled shriek, my head falling forward as I panted, struggling to catch my breath. Bullet’s tongue swiped my overly sensitive clit, and I jolted up on my knees with a squeak.
“Too much, too much, I need a break,” I gasped, laughing. “I’m too sensitive!”
“You liked that,” Bullet said smugly, licking his lips in possibly the lewdest way possible as he ran his hands up and down my thighs.
“I did. A lot. And we’re not done yet.”
Not when Bullet’s arousal was so potent, I was sort of surprised he hadn’t come when I had, without me even touching him.
While I was enjoying sitting perched on him like this, having him stare up at me, I was also quietly grateful to still have my dress on as a thin layer of modesty while I was this exposed, so I kept it on while I awkwardly shuffled back down Bullet’s body on my knees.
“You are so beautiful,” Bullet murmured. “Do you know that? I don’t think I tell you enough.”
“Don’t make me cry during sex,” I chastised, fighting a sappy smile as I reached between us, stroking his length before positioning myself over him and slowly sinking down.
“Fuck, Grace,” Bullet hissed, grabbing almost desperately at the fabric of my skirt until his hands landed on my hips. “I can’t even describe how good you feel. Shit, and I really wanted to last longer this time.”
“It’s okay, we’ll just keep practicing,” I promised, draping my body over his so I could kiss him. He tasted like me, which I found unexpectedly attractive. Like I’d marked my territory in a cavewoman, primal kind of way.
I heard the door open downstairs, but as I straightened so I could brace my hands on Bullet’s abs, sinking even deeper on his cock, I wasn’t about to stop for anything. Riot had known exactly what he was walking into—there was no way he’d miss the desire I was feeling through the bond—and I had no doubt he’d have warned Wild. They’d chosen to come inside anyway.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to stop now,” Bullet panted, bucking beneath me. “I don’t think orgasm denial is my kink.”
“I’m not stopping,” I promised, digging my nails in slightly and rolling my hips, fighting to catch my breath. It wasn’t like they’d actually see anything if they came up here anyway—my dress was hiding all the important bits—but I wouldn’t have stopped either way. Couldn’t stop.
The quiet from downstairs was heavy, and only drove Bullet and I higher. It took minutes for my orgasm to rip through me, and as soon as I tightened around him, he was done, reaching his peak with a low groan that I felt everywhere.
As my senses returned to me, I was vaguely aware that I’d just ridden Bullet like a horse, and instead of embarrassment, all I felt was pleasure. Maybe this dynamic between us would take some time for me to get used to, but there was no doubt in my mind that both of us enjoyed it.
“I call dibs on shower,” Riot drawled from downstairs. “Though you’re more than welcome to join me, Gracie.”
I dissolved into giggles, burying my face into Bullet’s chest as he shook with silent laughter beneath me. “Go on,” he encouraged, tapping my butt lightly. “Riot’s a shower hog, unless you jump in there with him, you’re not getting any hot water. Besides, I think you fucked my soul out of my body, I need to lie here for a minute and wait for it to float back in.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I laughed, wincing slightly at the rush of fluid that came free the moment I moved and clamping my thighs together. I heard the shower turn on below us, and the idea of getting cleaned up was tempting enough to make me dart down the stairs, pausing at the bottom when I spotted Wild sitting at the small dining table with a glass of water in hand, watching me with one eyebrow slightly raised, eyes burning with heat. His gaze tracked down my body and I swore he could see the evidence of what Bullet and I had been doing through the fabric of my dress.
I squeezed my thighs a little tighter together, definitely aroused enough that Wild would pick up on it through our burgeoning connection. Maybe it was knowing that he’d watched me for so long already, but the idea of him watching me and Bullet…
I swallowed loudly at that visual.
With a squeak that may have been a greeting, I wasn’t entirely sure, I rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and collapsing against it.
Riot laughed, lazily soaping himself down as he watched me. “If you can’t take the heat, don’t fuck your bonded on the mezzanine where we can all hear you.”
“That is not how that saying goes,” I laughed, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf and throwing it at him before pulling off my dress. “In the moment, I felt very sexy and empowered.”
“Good,” Riot replied, pulling me into the water with him and wrapping his arms around my waist and dropping his head to my shoulder. “Hold on to that feeling, Gracie. That’s how all of us want you to feel, always.”
Chapter 20
After a trip to the village for supplies—paid for by Wild’s cash stores which he’d converted into euros—we returned to Vasileios’ terrace for dinner to find even more daimons and agathos there than yesterday, though the human faces at the table were all familiar. Thirty chairs were now crammed around the long outdoor table, the piles of food higher than they’d been yesterday.
“Friends!” Vasileios called, spreading his arms wide. “We have been filling in our newcomers.”
He rattled off the names of four new agathos—Galen, Naom, Emil, and Vincente—and five new daimons—Ovie, Etain, Rue, Fox, and Akouma—in quick succession. They were another interesting mix of people from around the world, all who seemed to have found their way to this little oasis Vasileios had created.
“You all live around here?” Bullet asked as we took the seats reserved for us in the middle of the table again.
“Close enough to here,” Vasileios replied with a shrug. “Usually I meet them on my travels, invite them to visit and they stay because I am so wonderful. We are a community, of sorts, but we don’t all live together. It is good to have friends nearby.”
A few of the people around the table rolled their eyes or shot Vasileios indulgent looks. I wasn’t sure he’d consider himself their leader necessarily, but he was obviously at the heart of this mixed community. He’d built it around him.
“It is good,” I agreed, blinking in surprise at the sweetness of Vasileios’ words considering how adamant most daimons I’d met were that they didn’t have friends.
With the further introductions out of the way, Vasileios encouraged everyone to pile their plates high with food while he held court. There was no way it was a coincidence we ended up here, I thought to myself, chewing slowly on a small roasted tomato Wild had put on my plate. We knew from his experience that there were multiple exits from the underworld—Persephone had led us to this one on purpose, to these people on purpose. Yes, they appeared to be allies for us, but more than anything, they were an example to us. Proof that all kinds of mortals could live together, knowing about each other’s strengths and weaknesses and existing in harmony regardless.
So far, I hadn’t even felt compelled to use my gift again. Perhaps due to the kykeon? Riot, Bullet and Wild seemed to be completely content in the presence of these humans too, not pressured by some urgent need to rain down misery on them.
“How’d you end up here?” Riot asked Foster. They were sitting next to each other, Foster’s daimon friend, Estrella, on his other side, idly toying with his hair in a way that was definitely more than friendly.
Foster shot us a wry smile as I angled myself towards Riot to listen. “It wasn’t a straightforward journey. My assigned outreach trip was in Romania. It wasn’t a good experience, to say the least. I’ve never been great at following directions, which as you know is not a very desirable trait in an agathos. My outreach leader took advantage of any chance to discipline me for my own good.”
Estrella pursed her lips in disapproval, and Foster took a moment to collect himself before continuing. “I always thought I’d meet my soul bond. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t, I’d never given any thought to the outreach programs before I was suddenly sent on one, just shipped away overnight so I was out of the way and no longer an embarrassment to my family. I spent a year there, and the contact from home was steadily decreasing. I just woke up and one day and was like, ‘what am I doing with my life?’, you know? Why was I staying there? The agathos had cast me out, why should I stay in the exile they’d thrown me in and pretend to be happy about it?”
“So you walked away?” Riot asked, sounding impressed.
“I did. I got myself to Bucharest, found a job listing for a call center wanting English speakers. There’s a lot of agathos there and I didn’t want to attract their attention, so I moved to a part of the city closer to the daimons, hoping they would leave me alone. Most of them did,” he said with an indulgent smirk at Estrella, who rolled her eyes.
“I was crashing at my cousin’s apartment and I kept seeing this agathos come and go, and I was curious. And he’s so pretty,” Estrella purred. Foster tipped his head back as she continued to scratch his scalp, and I felt a pang in my chest, wondering if the relationship they wanted was limited by what he was, by the fact that they weren’t soul bonds. “I kept following him around, asking him why was he here, things like that. Trying to break him. He is so fun to play with.”
Foster smiled cockily, but he couldn’t quite hide the longing in his eyes.
“Anyway, eventually he started talking to me. And then he had visa problems because of the outreach thing.” She flicked her hand, making an impatient noise. “So we got married and I took him back to Spain.”
“You got married?” I repeated, my eyebrows shooting up.
“In the legal sense of the word,” Foster replied, cheeks tinged pink. “We’re husband and wife legally.”
Estrella rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to clarify, guapo. They all know you can’t get it up for me.” Poor Foster went as scarlet as the wine in the carafe on the table. “We lived together in Valencia for a few months as married roommates, but the daimons I knew were uncomfortable with Foster being there. Some were violent. We met Vasileios when he was drunkenly fucking our neighbor in the corridor right by our apartment door.”
Vasileios laughed, dragging Alesa into his lap whilst winding his hand through the hair of the young human guy next to him. Mathias, I recalled vaguely. He was French, tall, blonde and fair, and built like an Olympic swimmer. He also looked at Vasileios like he loved him, though I wasn’t sure the feeling was returned.
“Estrella storms out, this raging daimon, yelling at me in Spanish and I don’t know what the fuck is happening,” Vasileios chuckled. “I think she’s going to attack me, then Foster appears in the door, pulling her back before she can take a swing at me and this poor confused human I’m still fucking.”
“It’s in the top ten most awkward moments of my life,” Foster agreed drily, still blushing. “Anyway, Vasileios didn’t seem that weirded out to see us together, and just said there was a mixed community where he lived and invited us to visit. The poor woman he had up against the wall was very confused.”
I laughed in spite of myself. “So then you came here?”
“We visited and never left,” Estrella replied, refilling her wine glass. “It’s been… two years, maybe? Most of the people at this table—the daimons and the agathos, not the humans—come here alone though. The agathos hear about Vasileios from somewhere and come here seeking refuge. The daimons come because they’re curious.”
Alesa was straddling Vasileios now, Mathias leaning over, his hand disappearing between the two of them, somewhere around Vasileios’ waistband. Vasileios leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head and a cocky grin on his face. “I am very famous. It is my burden to bear.”
