“What now?” he demands.
Ezra has her feet curled underneath her on the couch, sitting between Yri and myself. When she answers him, her voice is still numb with shock, and I see so much of Vyrian in her right now. He gets the same way when discussing his past; emotionally detaching himself, able to pretend it happened to someone else or in another life.
Soren wastes no time lifting her up and stealing her seat, situating her on his lap so that she’s straddling and facing him. “There’s no way a single injection could permanently block your abilities, Ezra.” He speaks with conviction, leaving absolutely no choice beyond accepting his words as fact. “His words were a desperate last shot at hurting you, since it was clear we were never going to let him go alive. You’re still feeling weak, correct?”
She starts to relax, latching onto his words, and releases a heavy breath as she tries for humor. “I look weak to you, Ren?”
He leans forward and kisses her before pulling back just as quickly. “Never, little dragon. But you know what I’m implying.”
She sighs, tilting her head up to the ceiling in a silent plea for patience. “You’re not wrong.”
Yri steals her hand and kisses the back. “Not the end of the world, angel. Now you see how the rest of us have to live. So close, yet just out of reach.”
She scoffs, a small ember flickering to life inside her. “Well it sucks. I must say, not a fan.”
I lean back against the couch, strumming my fingers across my knee. “Do you have any idea how many years you’ve shaved off of my life this week? First the Gauntlet, and then getting Ren’s call? Seeing you lying in that bed for days and not able to do a damn thing to help?”
My voice starts to gain an edge to it that I can’t keep out, frustration and worry taking over. My fingers strum a quick rhythm, restless energy needing an outlet. She’s our goddamn mate, ritual or not, and we didn’t protect her. If that had been anything other than an ability suppressing tranquilizer, she could be dead.
“Let’s back this up a minute here, because I think there’s something you aren’t getting,” she snaps from her perch on Soren’s lap, eyes locked on my face. “The first time I came to and realized I was on a bed? Scared the shit out of me, and if you repeat that, I’ll stab you in the kidney. But then Soren was there and I was so relieved I could have puked. Because I trust you guys, and knew it’d be okay to pass back out with you three looking out for me. So wipe that look off your face, Cai, because it’s clear as day where your mind is at.”
I groan, closing my eyes. “You’re not going to make me feel better, so save your energy.” An instant later I sit up as the wind is knocked out of me, Ezra flopping over onto my lap like dead weight.
She bats her eyes at me, a smile on her face. “I mean, I could always make you feel worse if you want?”
I release an amused breath as she elbows me a few times while twisting. She ends up with her thighs outside of mine, straddling me before putting her hands on my shoulders.
“You’re so benevolent,” I deadpan.
She nods. “It’s true, I am. But seriously, Cai, don’t go there; it won’t do anyone any good.”
I know she’s right, but it’s hard to temper down the raging thoughts. She leans in to kiss me, deepening it until the only thoughts that cross my mind are involving her. She rolls her hips and my chest rumbles with need, pulling her closer.
I’m vaguely aware of Soren and Yri leaving, feel the dip in the couch as they get up, but Ezra quickly recaptures my full attention as she grinds against me. I put a hand on her hip to still her rocking, trying really damn hard not to embarrass myself here.
She takes the opportunity to come up for air, discarding her shirt. She bites my lip and I hiss, rolling us so that I’m hovering above her.
“You get off on torturing me, don’t you?”
She lifts her hips as she shimmies out of her pants beneath me, kicking them aside. “A little, yeah,” she admits unrepentantly, and captures my lips once more.
Her fingers hook in the waistband of my jeans, but when they flick the button open, I freeze completely. The four of us have kept a firm rule in place so we don’t get carried away; if one person’s pants come off, the other’s stays on. Orgasms are one thing, but there’s a line we all know better than to cross.
“Well, now Iknowyou’re trying to kill me.” I force a teasing air into my voice, but it still comes across breathless.
She bites her lip, holding my gaze as she slowly drags the zipper down. “Or maybe I just know what I want?” Her voice betrays her nerves, lacking the self-assured confidence I’ve come to expect from her.
I groan. “You vastly overestimate my self-restraint here, Ezra.”
Her tongue darts out to lick her lips. “That a no?” she asks, vulnerability bleeding into her tone.
I curse, whipping off my shirt before kissing her harder than before, more desperate, more frantic. I pull back long enough to get to my feet, stepping out of my jeans.
“You’re sure?”
“I’d have hit you by now if I wasn’t,” she teases and I climb back on top of her.
Her leg wraps around my hip, pulling me closer as I get lost in her. Every kiss, every touch, sends fire through my veins, burning away rational thought. I push her panties to the side, slowly starting to press into her. I keep my gaze trained on her face, searching for any sign that I’m hurting her or she changed her mind.
