My heart twinges at the idea of Jax making soup for me. When Gray lifts the spoon to my mouth, I open obediently. He feeds me in silence until the last of the soup is gone.
“Good girl.”
The edge of a purr in his tone as he places the bowl back on the tray makes me stiffen, the atmosphere around us changing.
Gray reaches towards me, but I frown, taking a step backwards even though all I want to do is find out why he’s reaching for me with that look in his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” I say helplessly, my palms out toward him. “You don’t want me here, Gray.”
He closes his eyes briefly. “I said that, didn’t I?”
“You did.” I eye him cautiously. “Did you mean it?”
Gray’s hands drop to his sides. “I have to mean it.”
Frustration scents the air around us. “I don’t understand what that means!”
God fucking dammit. Why is every male in this house soconfusing?
He takes another step, and then another, backing me up until I’m pressed against a not-completely-steady bunch of boxes. Gray’s hands land on either side of my head, caging me in as I stare at him, wide-eyed. My breathing comes a little faster as he leans in, his mouth pressing against my ear.
“I wish I could explain,” he murmurs. “But I can’t, Sienna. I would if I could.”
His mouth trails a line from my ear, barely touching the skin but heating every inch he traces. My eyes drift close as he presses in, taking a deep breath.
“You carry my scent.”
His voice is deeper, the thrum of a growl reverberating up my spine. My moan is quiet, but he hears it, sliding a hand around my neck and tilting my face to the side, recreating the moment we shared in front of strangers.
Scent-marking.
“Raspberries,” he growls. “I fucking love raspberries.”
And then his mouth is on mine, and my arms are around his neck, and he’s pushing into me, his hand sliding down to hook my leg around his waist. He’s a perfect fit against me, our mouths dancing together as he presses against me.
“Sienna,” he groans. His other hand slides from my neck until it’s grasping at my bare leg, lifting the filthy lace and lifting me into him until his length is pressed directly into my panties.
And Gray Cohen isbuilt.
“Gray,” I gasp into his mouth as he does something with his hips that makes stars burst behind my eyes.
We should stop. This whole mess isn’t gonna get sorted by both of us getting hot and heavy in this mess of a so-called nest.
But that ache. As Gray’s warmth soaks into me, the ache that’s been thrumming in my bones for the last twenty-four hours finally, blissfully recedes. Apparently a bit of heavy petting from one of my Soul Bonded feels like nirvana, ambrosia in my veins.
He surges against me again and again, both of us barely pausing for breath as he drinks down my gasps and whimpers.
“Give it to me,” he groans. “Sienna.”
His grip on my legs as he holds me tightly and the feel of his denim rubbing against my clit tips me over the edge. He swallows my cry with his mouth, his hand slowly lowering one leg and moving back to my neck to press our mouths together. The boxes behind us shift precariously, and I lose my balance, Gray toppling with me.
I laugh, feeling light for the first time since I arrived here. Pushing my hair back from my face, I lean up on my elbows, turning to face him.
But he doesn’t look happy. He looks tortured.
“Gray?” I bite my lip. I guess we got a little carried away.
When he looks away, my happiness starts to ebb away. I swallow.
