Hunter comes in a few minutes later. Ares, who usually jumps up to greet him, sticks next to Arianette. Even the dog knows everything is fucked.
“Start the fire, will you?” I ask. Hunter seems grateful to have something to do with his hands, and thankfully the flames catch quickly, crackling to life, throwing warm gold across the room. The room heats up fast, the chill bleeding out of the air.
Graves appears a minute later, silent as always, carrying a tray with a teapot, a bottle of bourbon and three mugs. He pours the tea, adding a dash of liquor. “I’ve notified the King of the situation and that you’re back home. He’s speaking with hiscontact now.” He looks at Arianette. “Thank you for taking care of her.”
“She’s our duty,” I reply, but the feeling in my chest holding her this close–seeing the worry in the crease across Hunter’s forehead–this is more than duty. I just don’t know what to call it.
“Wait here for the King,” Graves says, then exits the room.
Hunter brings a mug over and helps her hold it to her lips. She sips once, twice, then leans back against my chest.
“I can’t stop shaking,” she whispers, voice cracked.
I pull her face gently into my lap, guiding her head down until she’s resting against my thigh. She curls into me instinctively, cheek pressed to the denim, tears still falling. Hunter grabs the thick blanket from the arm of the couch, drapes it over her shoulders and tucks it around her carefully.
“Sit with us,” she says to him, voice small. “Please?”
He hesitates, just a second, then lowers himself onto the couch beside us. I lift her legs, draping them across his lap so she’s stretched out between us. Hunter’s hand settles on her calf, thumb rubbing slow circles. A worried whine sounds in Ares’ throat and he drops down right by her feet, nose resting on the blanket, eyes fixed on her like he’s keeping guard.
We’re giving her all we can and it’s not enough. Well, almost all that we can.I can. I know what she needs–what always calms her when the world gets too loud.
I unbuckle my belt, open my jeans, ease myself out. I’m already half-hard just from holding her, from the way she trusts me now. I stroke down the length and guide the head to her lips and say, “Let’s get you settled down, Doll Baby.”
Her lips brush the tip and she opens for me without hesitation, taking me in warm and wet. Not frantic. Just… needing. I slide into her mouth inch by inch, letting her set the depth, the rhythm. She sighs around me, the sound vibrating down my shaft, and the shaking in her body starts to ease.
Hunter watches, hand still stroking her leg, not jealous, just present, while she drifts off like that–my cock warm in her mouth,breath evening out and tears slowing. I don’t thrust or push. Just let her hold me and let the simple act of it ground her.
I’m not sure how long we sit like this, I’ve started dozing off myself, when the door opens quietly. The King steps in–masked, but dressed casually. He pauses in the doorway, takes in the scene: her curled between us, mouth full of me, blanket tucked around her like she’s fragile and precious.
I shift the blanket up a little higher, covering her more, though I don’t pull out. She stays exactly where she is, eyes closed, breathing around me.
The King crosses the room, stops near the fireplace. Ares hops up and sniffs his knees.
“What’s this all about?” he asks, taking in the way the Baroness is latched peacefully onto me.
“It helps calm her down,” I say simply. No shame in it. Not after everything we experienced tonight.
He studies her for a long moment–her tear-streaked face, the way she clings to me even in sleep.
“Graves updated me on the crime scene and everything that happened.” He frowns and we’re all thinking of those disgusting bugs. “He said she had an episode.”
“Saying it was an episode isn’t fair,” Hunter shakes his head. “Seeing the body was one thing, but the condition they left it in? That was fucking intentional.”
“No, but she either had a memory or some incredible intuition,” I reply, grazing my thumb down her throat, which prompts her to give a little suck. “She’s the one that found those bugs, like she knew they were in there all along.”
The three of us sit in silence. Did Arianette experience the same thing? Did someone shove bugs in her mouth, but she got away first? Or did she witness it happen to someone else?
“It felt ritualistic,” Hunter says. “The way the body was positioned.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “I took some pictures when we got there. You can see if anything makes sense.”
“I’ll get these printed.” The King takes the phone. “Anything else?”
“Not tonight. I think we’re all still processing.”
He looks like he wants to pry further, but he stops himself, saying, “Rest and we’ll regroup tomorrow.” His eyes land on Arianette burrowed under the blanket, lips circling my cock. “Take care of her. She’s your priority. She’s the key to all of this.”
“We will,” we both say at the same time.
The King leaves without another word.
