Page 114 of Shattered Jewel
Holding back tears, my own release finally takes hold, shattering under the weight of his touch and his observant gaze.
I erupt around him, my cries muffled under his hand, my nails digging into the strong sinews of his back and creating half-moon crescents over his scars.
I ride out the wave of him, lapping against the shore until finally, everything is calm.
Axe removes his hand from my mouth and lifts me off the wall, striding down the hall with my legs wrapped around his hips and avoiding my mother’s disguised hazards as if he’s lived here for years. The entire time, we’re kissing, our tongues stroking, his dick pulsing inside me.
Reluctantly, Axe releases my lips and lays me on the bed in the guest room, then swings onto the mattress until his body is heavy on mine.
As he gathers me into his arms, he buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.
I gently guide him away so I can look at him. Axe’s eyes are soft, gray clouds breaking apart enough to reveal rare sunlight that casts its brightness over the furious cut down his face. Its warm rays are present in the way he traces circles on my skin and how he memorizes my face.
He looks at me like I’m one of Sarah’s precious, rumored jewels that he’s afraid will implode under the pressure of his touch. Yet, his caress is far from delicate—it’s filled with a rough longing that scrapes against my flesh, carving feelings into me I’ve only ever dreamed about.
I want to tell him everything, the looming, god-awful truth about the Sovereign’s plans for me. The dread that eats at my insides, threatening to swallow me whole. But the look in his eyes, the way he cradles me closer into his embrace, warns me not to add to whatever is currently hurting him. Silencing him.
My fingers thread through his, and then, we’re sleeping. Or at least he is.
Axe’s breath tickles my nose as he drifts off, his chest rising and falling rhythmically against my sensitive nipples.
His ash blonde hair is an unkempt mess on the pillow, lips slightly open in deep sleep. He looks almost peaceful, like a boyish Axe who didn’t have to endure torture, fight off abuse, and face neglect.
This is the Axe who just held me, loved me … and I drift off, too, cradled by the rhythmic beats of his heart and lulled by his warm, solid presence.
I wake up to the dimming light of dusk filtering through the windows. My head is on the pillow, but my body feels bereft—empty—and I soon realize why. Axe’s side of the bed is cold, his scent still lingering on the sheets, but he’s no longer there. My hand reaches out, brushing along the cool cotton where he should be.
As my heart sinks deeper into my chest with the absence of him against my skin, it’s like a part of me has vanished.
Been taken.
A pang of disappointment shoots through me. Did he leave to keep me safe? Or was it all too much?
Drawn by some peculiar instinct, I turn my head towards the plush couch in the room where Cav’s tall frame is sprawled, his dark hair an unruly halo around his pensive, slumbering face.
Kaspian rests in a chair across from him, chestnut tendrils framing his handsome features and almost making him look innocent.
I look down, and Wilder’s sleeping on the floor directly beside me, his face tilted in my direction as if he had to keep me in his horizon before he was forced to surrender to sleep.
It’s unlike them to have resisted crawling into bed with Axe and me, taking their rightful positions, since I’ve been with all of them and care for them all the same.
Perhaps they sensed in Axe the same thing I did, a vulnerability that’s desperate for consolation, one they can’t provide, but that I have all too much of.
It’s then I realize these men can do anything, kill anyone, and I’d probably forgive them. I’m too connected to them not to.
Sitting up, I give each of them a brief survey in the growing darkness, finding none of them worse for wear. Whatever job Wilder was talking about, they all got through it unscathed.
As for Axe’s absence, I’ll ask Wilder when he wakes up. Maybe Axe was never meant to go with them, but I’m wondering where it was he did go that gave him a heavier dose of torment than usual. And where Axe went now.
That leaves Sasha.
Slipping out of the covers, I tiptoe around Wilder, who grunts and grabs my ankle as I try to step around him. I swallow down a yelp at the feel of his calloused palm and look down, expecting alert, glimmering eyes to be staring right at me.
But no. They’re firmly shut, but he’s brought my ankle to his lips and bared his teeth, nipping at it and grinning in his sleep.
I tug my limb away, though the feel of his mouth lingers on my skin.
His hand drops onto the floor, his body contorting as he lets out a low groan before resuming his restless slumber.