Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (97 page)

“Why are you flushed?” Stanton asks while Zane says, “what’s on your shirt?”

“The answer to one answers the other,” I flippantly say. I snort when both Stanton and Torian stare at me with wide eyes- Stanton is calculating whose it could be and Torian is grossed out.

“You better soak your shirt or it will stain,” Zane helpf
ully says, having no clue what’s on my shirt- thank the Lord.

“Is Grant coming to the meeting?” Stanton
easily deduces, since I usually ignore the opposite sex. But in the past, I could never ignore Grant.

“We negotiated,” I say with an eye roll.

“I can see that,” Stanton says, disapproval lacing his voice.

“And not how you think,” I sharply reply. “He was throwing a tantrum when I arrived.

“Some tantrum,” Torian says in awe. “I’ve heard about this guy. I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

“I’ve met him a few times,” Zane offers, and my body goes on alert. I’m going to hurt Wil when I see him, after I get some
relief. Grant’s tantrum was… painful to watch.

“Any other day I’d ask how, but you’ve been keeping secrets left and right
, but so has your daddy. I’m going to have a word with Wil,” my voice dips to the pits of hell.

“Don’t be mad at him. It was only twenty or so times,”
Zane says, self-consciously running his fingers through his mass of curly hair.

“Twenty,” I shriek!

“Amelia will be ready very soon. You should go get cleaned up or we will be late,” Stanton says to abate the fight before it starts.

“Yeah, well, I run the bitch. They
’ll have to wait for me,” I growl.

“And I want to
see that my daughter is alright. So go get cleaned up, and you can beat Wil on your own time,” Stanton orders me.

I give up and walk to my bedroom. There is no sense in arguing with Stanton. He will just go into lecture mode, making my brain bleed.
Instead, I do something that would make both Wil and Zane have convulsions. I walk through my bedroom shedding my clothing and leaving them where they land. I do it because I don’t have time to worry about cleaning it up if I want to get some relief before I see Grant again, and I do it to get a rise out of Wil- the secretive fuck, who is raising my son to be just as secretive.

I lean against the vanity and watch Wil soap up through the frosted glass of the shower doors.
Water invitingly sluices down the deep grooves of his muscles. My mouth waters from imaging how he would taste with my tongue following the path of the water. I’ve never been given free rein of Wil’s body- the possibilities are spine-tingling.

I enjoy the view for a few minutes
getting thoroughly worked up. It would take one swipe of a fingertip and I’d go off like a rocket. I know when Wil finally notices my presence. It’s a fine thing, a woman’s influence on a man’s body. I watch him go from flaccid to rock-hard in the blink of an eye.

Soft. Blink. Hard.

This is one of the times I love having this power over a man. “Pixy,” Wil’s voice sounds strangled. “What are you doing?” Confusion is thick in his voice because I never invade the bathroom while he is in it. It’s not that we act any differently than any other married couple. It’s that I don’t behave like your usual female. I want privacy, so I give Wil privacy. It’s a respect thing.

Tonight, we are short on time
, and I’m just as short on patience. In the past few days, I’ve found out way too much about the man I’m spending my life with. Half of his family is Fontaine, while the other half is Wilson. Wil exclusively plays with males to conquer his demons. Lastly, he’s been BFFs with Grant and taking my son to visit the man. That’s a lot to digest in less than twenty-four hours.

I’m feeling particularly nasty this evening. I don’t answer Wil, I just slide the shower door back and salaciously stare at his body- and it’s a great body. After seeing Grant naked earlier, it’s a real treat to see Wil. They are nothing alike, but both are sexy in their own right.

“I didn’t fuck Grant like the two of you planed,” I say in a sultry voice. “I’m not as easy as I was when I was a teenager.”

Wide-eyed, Wil freezes with his hand washing his pecs- caught in the act. My eyes run over the length of his body. Wil’s skin is pale, but in the height of summer it turns a delici
ous honey color. Tight muscles bunch in his upper-arms as he flexes, drawing the body-pouf across his chest and hardening nipples. He cautiously watches me as I watch him.

“This is how it’s going down,” I warn. “I’m horny and it’s your fault. I don’
t care if you freak out. You’re going to stay still and let me do whatever I want, because you did this to me. Your secretive, lying ass did this to me. You’ve been seeing him, and you’ve been taking Zane with you.” I make a tsk-tsk sound as I enter the shower.

Pale blue eyes track my movements
- a prey animal warily watching a predator approach. Wil better be scared- I’m in a no mercy- take no prisoners kinda mood. Without speaking, I lean forward and bite his nipple- the flesh beads beneath my teeth and barely gives underneath the pressure of my bite. Wil doesn’t scream, but he sucks in a pained breath and hisses it out between his clenched teeth.

I drop to my knees and suck the head of his cock into my mouth. Wil never allows me to blow him. In the mood I’m in, he’s lucky we don’t have an unlimited amount of time or I’d do everything I’ve never been allowed to experience on his body. The sensation of the thick bulbous head of his cock rubbing on the roof of my mouth draws a moan from deep within my throat.

My eyes flick up to meet Wil’s scared gaze. The white of his eyes swallow the pale blue irises, making him look like a spooked horse. He’s on the edge of freaking, but he’s too aroused to stop me- plus, he was warned. There is no stopping point tonight. No words will halt me. If he wants this to end, he will either have to orgasm or force me away.

I open my throat and shove Wil’s cock into my mouth until my face meets his pubic hair.
My body tries to fight it as badly as Wil’s does. My gag reflex goes insane, spasming and clenching around the invading force, as Wil’s cock throbs and twitches in my mouth. An agonized groan fills the air- part pain, part ecstasy- whose throat it emanated from, I have no idea.

Panting, spit trailing off my chin, I pull his body from mine. Not able to breathe while going down on him, I suck and lick his balls. Wil tries to protest, not liking attention on his manly bits.

“Fight it,” I offer as encouragement and a warning. He either fights his demons or I will.

I suck his testicles in time with my hands stroking his cock. Double-fisted, I twist my palms up his shaft and over his head. Wil’s knees quiver, whether from fear or pleasure, I’m not sure. I shove him backwards onto the lip of the bathtub, ass meeting the edge. His cry of shock resonates down my spine. The sound has
me moaning as I crawl the span of the tub on hands and knees, body slipping in the suds.

Wil must be fighting the memories that assault him, or I’m arousing his body to the point that it refuses to listen to his mind. I can see the fear spread across his face, but I’
ve never seen his cock as hard as it is now. It proudly rests against his stomach, head reaching his belly button. Precum oozes out, filling that perfect divot.

I crawl between Wil’s gaping thighs, licking him from balls to belly button, tongue getting lost in that hole, lapping up the juice. Wil writhes beneath me, breathlessly moaning out his shock. A feeling of euphoria overpowers me as I dominate Wil and he willingly submits. I don’t understand what’s changed, but in the past, we’ve always played by Wil’s rules and it always fails. By taking over, by becoming stronger than Wil’s fears, I take what I want and he enjoys it beyond the terror he feels.

Seeing Grant’s words in my mind, I kneel between Wil’s spread thighs and lick the pathway from his ass to his sack. The garbled noise from Wil’s mouth is telling. Hands seeking out Wil’s throbbing velvety shaft, I set my teeth into his taint. I stroke his length, enjoying the feel of his flesh beneath my palms and fingertips. I sharply suck on that pathway, drawing him closer to the precipice. His groan echoes around the shower stall. Wil’s fingers bite into my hair, telling me more than words ever could.

I tease the bud of his anus
with the tip of my tongue. His cock kicks in my hands, jerking as he shouts to the ceiling. My eyes roll up to watch him cum. Head thrown back, eyes tightly shut, Wil orgasms. I lick and tease and suck everything south of his sack as my hands draw out his release. Semen shoots out of the thick, primed cock, coating his belly and my hands.

Breathlessly panting from his orgasm, I crawl up his body, straddling his thigh. I whisper in his ear, “Is that what you needed from me, to take over for you?”

His only response is a grunt. After several long blinks, his pale blue gaze is revealed. Satisfied, Wil smiles at me- a genuine smile that not many get to witness. I kiss him in thanks, thanks for trusting me. Thanks for trusting me while I was angry, and somehow believing I wouldn’t mentally hurt him when I kind of wanted to do just that.

Wil kisses me, passionately kisses me. It’s not often that he does. Lips wide open, devouring my mouth, our tongues duel. I groan into his mouth, more aroused than ever. One kiss from Wil and I melt. Wil fiercely sucks on my tongue, showing me he has in fact done that same movement to another body part
, and he’s proficient at it. My eyes open, making sure he isn’t battling out within his head. But his eyes are softly closed, with passion etched across his face.

We take turns sucking the other’s tongue, ramping up my need. Wil’s hand skims down my back, squeezes my ass as few times, before his fingers sneak into my drenched slit. I rock on his thigh while two fingers slip into me from behind. Instantly, my body ignites- tightens. Wil eats my moans while I ride his firm thigh. Every muscle in my body clenches. My skin prickles with sensations as pleasure forms in the base of my spine and radiates outward. The orgasm is endless.

Wil holds me while I quiver in his arms. My mind is confused as to why I felt it so strongly, of why it felt better than ever, especially when we didn’t even have intercourse. It was freeing.

“You can thank Grant for that,” I gasp out.

Wil’s throws his head back and laughs to the ceiling. A masculine, deep laugh flows from his chest- a sound of pure enjoyment, entertainment, and happiness.

“Pixy, who the hell do you think I’ve been seeing?” Wil says through the laughter.

“What?” I choke out, eyes bugging from their sockets- shock and fucking awe- shock and awe is all I feel.

“Neither of us likes guys, but we have someone in common. We don’t touch, but we talk… mostly talk, but sometimes we watch… or enjoy doing things at the same time. I’m conflicted by it. I don’t want to fuck him or anything. I just like being around him. I’m confused by what my body wants after what happened to it. Gra
nt’s the straightest guy I know. So it makes me not feel as emasculated to want what I want, to need what I need, when his wants and needs are similar to mine.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” I
stammer, feeling completely out of my element… and utterly speechless… and utterly useless.

“There is nothing you need to say. I’ve been trying to get you to see Grant for the past three years, but you are the most stubborn woman I know. I don’t know how to ask for what I need or if you’ll even want to give it to me- but I want you to be the one to do it to me. If you’re willing to try, that is,” Wil bashfully says. “And I won’t mind if Grant joins us,” Wil shyly says, blushing like a motherfucker.

“So you’re not having sex with people?” I grumble in confusion.

“I did in the past,” Wil shamelessly admits. “I know what I like, but it didn’t work out too well. I’ve always talked to Grant, but one night after a bad hookup and a worse freak out with you, I spilled my guts. Grant’s silence made me feel safe, so I told him every dark thought in my head, and I
finally felt… free.”

~Chapter Eighty-Seven~

Even with our detour in the shower, we weren’t late. Not that it really mattered, since they can’t hold a meeting without me. But I was anxious to see my baby sister. The second I hit Meyers’ Manor, I found Bianca and squeezed her half to death.

“Are you okay, after everything that happened? After everything?” I stress, pulling back from our embrace to hold Bianca at arms’ length
so that I can look into her chocolate brown gaze. My baby sister looks like all of Gwen’s kids: tiny, huge-eyed, and seductive in an innocent kind of way. Bianca has her father’s coloring. Stanton’s brown eyes and hair, and her skin isn’t as pale as the rest of my brothers and sisters. The dancer is guileless beauty.

“I’m fine. But i
f you and Dad hadn’t raised me, I may have pissed my pants. But Olivia, Sebastian, and Devlin are very protective of me. I felt safe,” she says in her soft voice, the same manner of speech that Gwen and Fate use. Bianca reminds me of our mother and older sister, but she has my fire. I knew she’d be just fine.