For them.
EPILOGUE
ZION
5 MONTHS LATER
The summer sun baked my naked back as I dropped to my knees. Moisture in the soil cushioned the fall, the blades of grass tickling my bare legs as I spread them wider to alleviate the pressure.
Loosening the strings of his waistband, Gedeon growled, “Zion.” After two full months of rising temperatures, he’d finally succumbed to the heat and donned that mouth-watering pair of workout shorts.
I yanked the black fabric down his hips. “Yes?” Gathering the material, I helped him step out of it.
Mostly.
I did nip his inner thigh, forcing him to stagger. But who could fault me when he looked so appetizing? I had to quench my thirst somehow.
His grunt caused Kali to giggle as she leaned against our beat-up car, the same one Gedeon had claimed for himself five years ago. The parked-on-the-side-of-a-desolate-road vehiclesparkled with a fresh coat of dark paint, matching Kali’s locks flowing in the midday breeze.
This time, on our second trip to the sea, she wasn’t lying unconscious in the backseat with her head in my lap. Instead, for the first hour we’d been on the road, she was the one who’d fidgeted so restlessly I’d threatened to tickle her, and who then had blurted out the reason for her agitation: Gedeon had gotten me a gift.
Which had also derailed our journey.
Shaking his head at Kali, Gedeon had handed me a new knife sheath with a rubber handle poking out of it. “Because you lost the other one,” he’d explained.
A whiff of the sweet and earthy scent wafting off the leather had been enough for me to perk up, but it was the blade that had pierced my groin.
Metaphorically, of course.
I liked my balls the way they were—intact.
On the flat side of the blade, three silhouettes of birds had been carved into the stainless steel: a blackbird, a raven, and a woodpecker. Realizing he’d commissioned a new knife since Ardaton had stripped me of my favorite one had caused me to leap out of my seat, jump Gedeon right as he took a turn, and nearly make him drive into a ditch because of it.
Hilarious.
Especially when he’d barked at me to climb out of the car and get on my knees.
Looming before me, Gedeon swiped the overgrown strands off my forehead, the gesture light and gentle, a stark contrast to how he gripped my hair in the next second. “Stick out your tongue.”
The crown of his cock gleamed in the sunlight, and I stroked up and down his length, slowly—teasingly. “What for?”
“Payment.” He arched an eyebrow. “Unless you don’t want to come?”
The idea of him edging me for hours, like he’d already done so before, fried my senses, and I squeezed myself, praying for a moment of reprieve.
Gedeon wrenched my head back. “Touch yourself again, and I won’t let you come fora month.”
As prickles exploded all over my scalp, my fists curled on my thighs. I knew he would keep his vow if I defied him. He always did.
“Like this?” Failing to smother the tension winding me up, I pushed my tongue out as far as I could.
He hummed in approval. “Beautiful.” Taking his dick, he rested the tip in my mouth, and a slightly salty and bitter flavor roused my taste buds from their slumber.
Saliva pooled to the limit of my lips, but I stayed in the position, my nails digging into the meat of my palms. Gedeon slid deeper, just an inch, but enough for my jaw to tingle with the need to clamp down.
“Don’t move,” he grunted.
I gurgled out a groan in response. Because what else could I do? I couldn’t move, touch him, not until he gave me permission. A heady, sizzling, mind-scrambling blessing.
