Bane reappears just as I wobble to my feet.
A wave of dizziness overcomes me just as I do, but I shake it off and meet his fruitless gaze—except it’s not hollow or empty or unfeeling at all. There’s something deeper with Bane that I know I can never fully explore because it’s too dangerous. For Thorin, Khalil, and anyone else who crosses his path. I know because while Zeke’s pain might dull over time, it will always remain. Bane will always be the kill switch that Zeke keeps tucked away just in case. To take that away from him…
I distract myself by starting a fire and gathering some sticks for a spit, and then I ask Bane to show me where the water is so I can wash off the blood and fur sticking to my hands and wrists like glue.
The stream isn’t far away, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find that it’s deep enough to submerge at least part of my body in. For now, I settle for cleaning my hands as thoroughly as I can, and then we head back to the campfire. The venison is tough as hell to eat since we don’t have a few days to wait for it tenderize, and I don’t even want to think about all the foodborne illnesses we’re exposing ourselves to, but we have no choice but to risk it.
Once Bane and I are done torturing ourselves with the badly cooked meat, we hang around the campfire for a few hours until the sun sets. Bane watched silently from across the fire with his corded arms resting on bent knees as I spent the day spewing curse after curse while trying and failing to whittle arrows out of sticks and branches. Eventually, I gave up and settled for three semi-decent stakes.
It’s dusk when we put out the fire and return to the stream where I strip off my clothes and bathe away the blood, sweat, and dirt from our harrowing journey.
Bane doesn’t join me though and ignores my many attempts to convince him. He just stands sentry on the shore watching me with a focused possession in his gaze that should terrify me.
Mine.
That’s what he’s thinking, and I can’t help but think it too.
Mine.
Biting into my bottom lip, I hold his gaze as I slowly leave the wide stream and reach out with fingers curled uncertainly until I seize the button on his pants and undo them. “You need to bathe, Bane,” I argue even though he doesn’t resist me. “We’re filthy.”
The last is said on a breathless whisper that makes it sound like I mean something else. I swallow past the knot in my throat and work Bane’s pants down over his narrow hips. Zeke apparently had forgone underwear when he dressed, so his dark pubic hair comes into view first and then the hardening length that pops free as I work the pants down his thighs.
There are more purplish bruises on his thighs and legs, and I get the bright idea to press on one, but Bane doesn’t react. He doesn’t flinch or even growl at me as he’s prone to do when I annoy him.
No pain then.
Kneeling when I reach the barrier of his boots, I undo the laces before working them off with Bane’s silent help. He steps out of his pants, but before I can stand, he roughly grabs my hair and forces my head back so that I meet his gaze. From this vantage point, his jawline looks impossibly sculpted with a lock of his hair falling over his forehead. The moon hovers behind him now and makes his green eyes glow. His dick is fully hard now—angry veins and purplish tip jutting out over my face like a prize and a trap. Because I know what he wants.
And I…I want it too. I want to claim all of them. Zeke, Seth, and Bane.
But if I’m right and I’m triggering Bane, then giving in would be a colossal mistake because Khalil and Thorin are also mine and I can’t risk them.
“Let me go, Bane.”
I feel his fingers flex like he’s going to do the opposite, but then he releases me. I don’t trust my legs when I stand, but somehow, I manage it and then I lead Bane by his hand to the stream. The cool water greets our ankles first and then our knees and lastly our thighs.
It feels like heaven.
I get Bane to kneel in the water, and then I get to work washing his hair. It takes a lot of massaging and patience to really feel like I’m making a difference without the help of shampoo, but once his hair feels less sweat-slicked and oily, I wash his shoulders, his chest, and abs.
“All done.” I offer Bane a smile, and his eyes drop to my lips. He still doesn’t speak to me, but that’s okay. There’s more than one way to communicate. “We should head back,” I suggest.
I start to leave the stream when I hear Bane stand. I assume he means to follow until my throat is suddenly seized and I’m hauled back against him. His erection is now lodged between us, and it hacks away at my self-control, especially when he starts to mimic the path my hands took. My breath quickens when his free palm skates over my shoulder and down my arm. Goose bumps follow in his wake, and I tip my head back and moan. I don’t ask myself how or why he knows how to break down my defenses. I just enjoy this moment for as long as I can let it last. Just before Bane reaches my wrist, he skips it entirely to explore my hip and then my lower belly.
My skin tingles whenever he touches me and I want more. I want him to touch me all night. Forever. But I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
“Mine,” Bane says as if he read my thoughts and rejects them.
“I’m yours when I say I am,” I grumble with my eyes closed.
Bane responds by sliding his hand down from my belly and cupping my pussy. He presses his cool lips to my temple just as I feel his middle finger searching for my hole and groans, “Mine.”
“That too,” I echo. “Yours when I say.”
“Mine…when I say,” he echoes incoherently.
Bane finds my entrance, and I gap my legs open a little wider when he presses against it in silent demand. My pussy yields to him and I do too by doing the unthinkable. I turn my head and lift onto my toes to reach his lips. Bane lowers his head to meet me halfway, and I can feel the last of my walls crumbling the second our lips meet. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, and my eagerness to feel him inside of me grows.
