"Faster. I want to watch you finish."
Everett's breathing hitches. I expect him to argue, to keep resisting this. Instead, the chillingly beautiful man braces one arm against the glass of the shower and starts stroking himself in earnest as the steam continues to billow around him.
It's so fucking erotic seeing him like this. Dripping, a blush on his cheeks and neck and shoulders as he chases his release, with those crystalline irises pinned on me.
"Maven," he whispers, his gaze still on my body.
"Close?" I murmur, watching his fist fly over his thick cock.
He nods, panting and groaning. Gods, I love seeing him like this. Flushed and overwhelmed, on the brink of pleasure. All that careful, icy composure from when we first met has melted away, leaving this sinfully handsome creature coming undone under my gaze.
"Dear gods, your body," he moans. "And…fuck, Iloveyou watching me."
That makes two of us.
I had no idea I liked watching this much—not that it's a shock when he's so ludicrously attractive. But it's clear Everett enjoys an audience.
I wonder what else he likes. When we get to it, I do want to make his first time special.
My own first time was quick, painful, pleasureless, and ended with the slightly less fun version of strangulation. I didn't get to explore what I did or didn't enjoy with a trusted partner—hell, I only had sex with Gideon out of morbid curiosity and to get him to shut up about his imagined feelings.
Now? I want to explore much more with all of my matches.
"You're gorgeous," I whisper, letting my hand steal down to brush through the new wetness between my legs. I can't help moaning slightly at the pulse of pleasure that sends through me.
Everett swears softly. I watch in rapt fascination, my pulse pounding eagerly as his cock jerks and his cum paints the foggy glass shower wall between us. He's shuddering and breathless when our gazes meet again, but his gaze is now so full of emotion that it pins me in place.
"No holds barred, Oakley," he whispers. "I mean it. If we can avoid my curse, nothing is going to stop me from finally fucking belonging to you."
Too late. He's already mine, whether he's prepared to accept it or not.
I finally break out of the incredibly sensual trance I've been stuck in for the last few minutes, wrap myself in a big white towel, and hurry out of the bathroom.
It's hard to steady my breathing, and nowI'mthe flushed one.
But when I slip into the room where Baelfire put Silas, my lingering arousal and building hope fizzle to nothing. He's still unconscious, fighting to breathe with a damp cloth on his forehead.
Silas, I try again.
Seven dried ghost orchids…two vampire fangs,his voice slurs back.
It's nonsense. He's completely out of it.
But at least I can fucking hear him again.
Taking a deep breath, I grab a towel and bowl of water so I can at least make sure he's clean while I wait for however long it will take to get my fae back.
5
SILAS
The voices are gone.
Once the endlessly harrowing, paralyzing agony fades away, I lay marinating in dark silence. It's bizarrely serene. For the first time since childhood, mine is the only voice inside my head. Paranoia is not shredding me to pieces, there are no taunting whispers, and keeping my eyes closed for longer than a blink no longer fills me with that ominous, unspeakable dread.
Is this what being sane feels like?
Thank the gods, I think.
