Page 140 of Seizing Control: Part Two

Behind me, someone laughs.

When I glance over my shoulder, I find my husband and Lazarus shadowing me. Slash is smiling, maintaining an amused look that he can’t hide. My first love isn’t as subtle. He’s outwardly taunting me, chuckling at my mood swings as I pivot between sadness, happiness, and worry without reason. The teasing in his eyes is something I’ve missed during the past year. It’s been a trying time, devoid of peace, let alone fun, and I didn’t realise how much I missed this side of him until now.

“Don’t make me punch you,” I joke.

“Threatening me with a good time will only make me laugh harder, sweet thing.”

Inside the elevator, I find myself trapped between the two of them. Their colognes invade my nose. The scents intermingle in a way that makes it hard to concentrate. Memories of my time at Hades farm coil tight in my chest. Spiced amber. Cardamom and labdanum. Every secret desire I had about Lazarus and Slash together, the lust I’ve deliberately rejected in my mission to be a good mum, rolls through me. Visions of the three of us, naked and needy, escape the vault I locked them in when I made the choice to put my children first.

Weak at the knees, I fight to contain myself.

It’s taken them a week to slip through the fissures in my boundaries.

The temptation to link arms with them, to connect us all, is overwhelming.

I could give in.

Lift my boundaries.

Let them infect my heart.

Lean into the lie that this truce will hold.

“Baby,” Slash croons in a low tone. “You needa stop that.”

Peering up at him, I blink slowly. “Stop what?”

My husband softly places his hands on my hips and turns me, pulling me so my back is to his stomach. “Tell her, Lazarus.”

The lust in my first love’s uniquely coloured gaze as he crowds me from the front strips my lungs of oxygen. He hits the emergency stop button and the elevator grumbles to a halt. I tremble, caught between my husband and Lazarus, as a tattooed finger tugs my bottom lip from between my teeth.

“If you pierce your skin,” Lazarus tells me. “We’re gonna lose control.”

I swipe my tongue over the swollen flesh.

The tell-tale iron tang is missing.

Disappointment floods me.

“Every thought you have shows on your face,” Slash murmurs in my ear. “And that’s not good... not when you’re healin’, baby, and we’re tryna give you the space you demanded.”

My first love cups my nape and rests his forehead on mine.

With a groan that makes me shiver, my husband slides his right palm along my ribs. He skims fingers over my tender breast, then collars my throat. I sway on my feet, lightheaded, as my heart pounds in my ears. The lust that pools in my lower belly is deliciously warm. My brain rings with a Code-Five alarm. It cautions me that I need to get away from them before I do something stupid. Like kiss Lazarus and grind against Slash’s erection. With perverse determination, my feet remain glued to the spot, anchoring me, as I battle to contain the whimper that’s clawing at my throat.

I thought I was trapped between them before.

I was wrong.

This is worse.

I’m captive to their physical presence and my response to it.

“Can read your thoughts, sweet thing,” Lazarus purrs in a feral voice. His breath fans over my face as he speaks. “Can smell your need, too.” He inhales as he runs his nose along my cheekbone. The hand at the back of my neck tightens at the same time as Slash pinches my windpipe. I swallow deep, uselessly, when my first love threads his fingers in my hair and tilts my head to the side so he can angle his mouth to my ear. “You’re beautiful. Tempting as fuck. But it’s too soon, metukà shelì. We needa let you heal, get the twins home, discuss how this relationship is gonna work before we touch you again.”

I am unable to form a response to his declaration.

Devoid of words, yet full of a craving I shouldn’t feel.

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