Misty
“You will wait here,” Cole says sharply to Nathan, pointing at a wooden chair in what could be considered a living room.
I glance around the apartment. Cole’s bedroom is at the very end of one of the hallways to the left. My blood rushes, and my heartbeat sounds in my ears as Nathan gives him a smug look and plops down on the chair, crossing his legs.
Cole stares him down for several seconds before snatching me down the hallway. Nathan laughs, shouting, “Don’t worry. I warmed her up for you.”
I wince as Cole slams the door shut behind us.
“He didn’t touch me,” I assert, but my voice wobbles. I clear my throat, looking up at Cole, who’s staring at me like he doesn’t believe me. “I swear, he didn’t touch me on the way here. He wishes he had, I’m sure, but he’s full of shit. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”
Cole grinds his teeth but turns away from me. “Sit on the bed.”
Here we go. I remind myself it’s just sex. Grandma had to do this at one point in time, and if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been born because my dad wouldn’t exist, right? I’m only doing this to keep myself, and Georgia, safe. Cole needs me as a breeder, which means I have some leverage.
I pull off my shirt, slip out of my shorts, and leap onto the bed, lying flat on my back in its center. Cole has his back to me as he reaches into his dresser. I wonder what he’s looking for? A blindfold, maybe? Maybe he’s into some kinky stuff, and I’m about to either have the worst, or best, night of my life?
I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasps.
I roll to face him, my arm crammed behind my back as I fumble for my bra clasp. He’s holding a pair of medical grade scissors and some tweezers and making a valiant effort to not look down as my breasts bounce free of my bra. “Uh… what are you doing with those?”
“Taking out your stitches,” he grinds out, his cheeks going red.
“Oh.” I find it impossible to swallow. I blink once, then twice, then my brain connects to my body again. I rip the sheets around my nearly naked body. He turns away to give me privacy like he’s not about to be inside of metonight.
He sighs, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I’m decent, then approaches the bed and sits down. He’s still wearing his cloak, his black shirt. He smells like… books. Like parchment, with an underlying hint of aftershave and… evergreen.
“You smell nice,” I say under my breath.
He sighs again, snipping the first suture free. How romantic, I think sarcastically. Georgia did her best to prepare me for this. She told me point blank that Cole looked like the kind of guy who would “Talk me through it,” which made me blush and imagine exactly what she meant by that. I’m not a total newbie when it comes to men. I’ve kissed my fair share. I thought I was slick when I snuck my high school boyfriend into the old Silverhide territory in Crescent Falls to make out, but we were caught by Ryan and his Beta, James. Ryan dragged me back to the castle, to our parents, but he didn’t snitch on me. I never saw that boyfriend again, though.
“What are you thinking about?” Cole asks under his breath.
“I think my brother might’ve killed my high school boyfriend,” I murmur, my eyes fixed on the wall over the slope of his shoulder. His scent is all around me right now–overwhelming my senses in a good way. He smells really nice, and now it’s all I can think about.
“Which brother?”
“Ryan.”
“I doubt it’s true, then. I’ve always heard Sydney is the one to watch out for.”
“Sydney’s more calculated,” I reply with a smirk as he continues to remove the sutures one by one. “Ryan’s just a barrel. He just rolls through every situation without a thought in the world. They’re very different.”
He says nothing for another minute. I feel a sting on my arm and look down to watch him drag a sterile rag across it. He rises from the bed and discards the sutures, rag, and other supplies. His silence is choking the room.
“Now what?” I ask.
He shrugs out of his cloak, letting it fall in a heap of black fabric at his feet. “I’ll make this quick.”
“Okay,” I breathe, swallowing hard. He unbuttons his shirt as he strides across the room and turns off the light. I’m swallowed by darkness, but through the moonlight drifting in through the window, I see his profile pacing back toward the bed.
More fabric falls to the floor, then the bed shifts, and he’s here, tugging the sheets down. “You didn’t need to totally undress,” he says hoarsely, like he has something stuck in his throat.
“It felt appropriate,” I wince, letting go of the sheets to let them slip between us. His bare legs brush against mine, sending flutters of warmth over my skin.
His shirt is unbuttoned but he hasn’t taken it off. In the moonlight, I catch glimpses of his muscled chest and torso. He’s strong–tightly muscled, like he takes care of his body. He’s built like a swimmer, honestly. Broad shoulders, broad chest, a trim waist…
“You don’t have to look at me like that,” he whispers, reaching between us to… to….
My lips part as his fingers slide between my thighs, over the fabric of my underwear and I’m… not sure it should feel this good. I barely know him. If anything, I have more questions about him and his motives than answers. Do I think he’s a monster? I don’t think so–not anymore. Should I be begging for him to touch me more, to slide his fingers through the wetness pooling through my underwear? Probably not, but here I am, arching into his touch.
I feel a tremor roll through his body. He lowers his head, holding himself up on one arm like he’s trying to keep distance between our bodies.
He doesn’t ask why I agreed to this, and I’m glad. I didn’t have a choice. I don’t think he has a choice. Part of me wants him to at least want this a little, though.
He doesn’t ask if I’m ready. Every move he makes is methodical, medical–honestly. There’s no love or desire in his touch as he ropes an arm beneath me and hauls me toward the top of the mattress so my head rests against the pillows. I’m just a vessel for his future child, and that’s how he’s going to treat me. I shouldn’t expect to feel anything.
But my hands still settle on his shoulders as he dips his head, his forehead resting in the crook of my neck. I stifle a moan when I feel his cock for the first time resting against my inner thigh, teasing my entrance. He’s big. Georgia teased me about how he might be big, but Georgia has no idea that I didn’t go all the way with Nathan. I have no references. I have no idea what this is supposed to feel like, to be like.
I’ve never done this before.
My earlier confidence slips just enough for doubt to come rushing in. I grip his shoulders, squeezing my eyes shut as he thrusts into me in a sleek, calculated motion that simultaneously has my toes curling and legs locking in pain… at first. A breathy groan leaves his lips, tickling the skin just below my ear as he lowers his body against mine. He gives me a moment to adjust to him… or to adjust himself to me, based on the way he grits his teeth against my skin and begins to move in slow thrusts. He keeps his arm beneath me, his fingers gripping my waist as he rolls his hips against mine in a way that cuts through the pain, and surprise, of this almost-stranger taking my virginity.
Boy, my friends back home are going to have a field day with this story.
I bend my knees on instinct, clutching his waist between them. The feeling of him inside of me is the most insane sensation. A deep, aching feeling of need begins to thrum through me, spurred by the sound of his skin meeting mine. I scooch closer, arching my back. The smallest shift in position has even more of that delicious sensation throbbing between my legs. I make the smallest sound against my will, and his hand tightens on my hip.
I want him to throw the medical aspect of this out the window. I want him to throw me around, to show me what this could really be like if we knew and liked each other. If we wanted to be doing this together for real.
Another moan escapes my lips. One hand slides up his neck into his hair. He keeps his face in the crook of my neck, but I hear him inhale before groaning low in his throat, his movements becoming more erratic.
“Cole,” I breathe, losing my sense of reality. “Cole–”
“Am I hurting you?” he rasps, dragging his cock out to the tip before burying himself so deep my eyes roll back in my head.
“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I start to shake, my muscles locking up all over my body. My inner muscles clench around his cock, causing him to hiss out a breath and finally lift his head to look at me.
Nose to nose, he looks down at me while I snake my fingers through his hair, my breathing erratic and unsteady. “Do not come.”
“What?” I gasp, looking up into his eyes.
He shakes his head, jerking into me again with enough force for the headboard to smack against the wall.
“Don’t you dare come,” he commands, his eyes wild and dark. “Misty, don’t–”
My voice shatters in a moan as hot, unreal pleasure rips through my body. I spasm around his cock. He groans, clutching the sheets as he slams into me once, then twice, cursing under his breath as he starts to come undone at the seams.
He looks peaceful for a flash of a second and it… kills me. He’s not a monster. He’s just a man–trapped–going through ungodly things, and I see that written all over his face as he loses himself in my body.
And that makes it worth it. I gave him a moment of comfort. It was something he needed–maybe something that, deep down, I needed, too.
He rips himself out of bed. I’m not totally sure if he’d even finished, but now he’s pulling on his pants, pacing around the room like he’s ready to put a hole in the wall as he picks his socks up from the floor.
I sit up, trying to gather the sheets around me when he stops and stands perfectly still. I track his gaze to a spot on the bed just between my knees. Moonlight catches on the hint of blood.
His eyes meet mine with heartbreaking intensity. “You’ve never done that before?”
“N-No,” I bite out, hating the way he’s looking at me right now. He’s furious. Shock and rage dances behind his eyes, followed by the worst of them all… guilt.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” I manage, giving him a watery smile. “I enjoyed it–”
He holds a hand up, disgusted. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”
I have all but three seconds to stand before he rips the sheets from the mattress so hard the sound of fabric tearing echoes around the room, pinging from wall to wall. I grab my clothes, but I’m barely dressed when he throws the door open and stomps into the hallway.
I pull my shirt over my head and peek around the doorframe just in time to see a murderous Cole shove the wadded up sheets against Nathan’s chest. “Take these to your leader, you filthy, fucking animal.”
Nathan pales at Cole’s tone but hurries away. Cole can sound so scary when he wants to. I’m kind of into it….
But then Cole turns around, breathing hard. “Get out.”
“Me?”
He nods, grabbing the top of the chair Nathan had been sitting in. “Please, go.”
“I don’t know how to get to my room.” I shift from foot to foot, hating the look on his face, feeling a curling, twisting sensation in my stomach.
Is he that disgusted by me?
Was I really that bad?
“Declan will meet you in the hallway. Go.”
“Cole?”
“GO.” His eyes meet mine–dark and stern.
“Asshole,” I scoff as I brush past him. I let the door slam shut behind me, thankful to find Declan waiting for me nearby instead of Nathan. “Don’t say a word to me, Declan.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he grumbles, and a few minutes later, I’m tucked inside my room.
Georgia’s asleep.
I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.
I pace in front of the door for over an hour before I find my nerve again and grab my notebook out of my school bag and a pen.
I kick the book free from the door, and slide through it.
Let’s find a way out of this hellhole.