Page 152 of Seizing Control: Part Two

Not so soon after giving birth.

It’s a sickness, an addiction, my compulsion to lust after both of them when my babies are still fighting for survival.

The moment that Lazarus slides on his double shoulder harness, then holsters his Glocks in each side, I know that he’s got to go. Gabriel calls, and the man who died to save me must answer. Covering the weapons with his jacket, he returns his omnipresent earpiece to his left ear. I’m not privy to his role within the Adjudicator’s team—or curia, as my first love calls it. The only thing that’s been confirmed to me is his role as Gabriel’s heir since Apollo and Meeyal have rejected their legacy. Reminding myself of all the secrets that stand between us helps me swallow down the desire pulsating through my body. We have a lot of ground to cover, physically and emotionally, before sex ever becomes an option.

I’d do well to remember that instead of giving into my base instincts.

“Stay with Slash.” My first love approaches me with a business-like expression etched through his granite features. “Take him on the walk with Garrett. Show him the house. I’ll be back before you’re ready to head to the NICU to see the twins.”

The quiet suction of the pump relieves the ache in my breasts. It has no effect on the awareness that swirls in my lower belly as I meet Lazarus’ searching gaze. He is deadly serious. Openly keen to claim me. Bossy as ever. Full of orders and decrees. Determined to be my protector. Assured in his right to take on the role as the head of our family.

I love it.

I love him.

More than I resent his need for control.

But I’ll swallow my own tongue before I ever admit that.

Because Nadia is right.

Lazarus and Slash need to grovel.

They need to put in the time and effort required to rebuild the trust they destroyed.

The inevitable fight for dominance will be bloody, and it will be decisive. I don’t know which man will emerge the victor. I’m not even sure if there will even be one at the end. The one thing I do know is that the fallout will stay clear of my babies. The two stubborn men will either cement their truce or fail at it. That’s on them. Not me. Their egos are out of my control, just like my desire for independence is outside their remit.

We either become equals.

Or we go our own ways.

Co-parents, and nothing more.

“I’ll do as you say,” I disclose in a flat tone. Challenge gleams in his multicoloured gaze and his lips quirk, however, he quickly schools his features into a blank countenance when I continue. “Because your instructions are sensible, and I’ll never keep you from the twins unless you’re putting them at risk. However, I am not acquiescing because I need a big, bad man to tell me what to do.”

“Lil—”

When he goes to speak, I hold up a hand and talk over him. “Did you accept market value for the house?”

With the dignity of a king, he inclines his head.

“The deal was fair—you didn’t throw in any bonus extras?”

Another sharp nod that borders on arrogant.

“The house is in my name, free and clear of any claim you had on it?”

“It is, metukà shelì.”

“Okay.” I shrug, playing off the relief that loosens some of my reticence to see him leave. If this is going to work, I need to know where we stand. This was a good start, even if it’s barely scratched the surface of the questions I have for the stoic man peering down at me with amusement he has to fight to conceal. “Be careful out there, please.”

“Always, sweet thing.” The machine attached to my breasts is the least sexy thing I’ve ever encountered, yet Lazarus seems to find it hard to rip her focus from my chest. When he dips low, capturing my neck with his big hand, I allow him to tilt my head back. Forehead resting on mine, he runs his tongue over his top lip. “When are you gonna let me steal a taste?”

“What?” Heart racing, I do my best to feign ignorance of his meaning. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play coy, Lil.” He runs a warm fingertip down my cleavage. “It’s perfectly normal... especially when you consider that I know how you taste everywhere else.”

“I, uh...” Trailing off, I try to formulate an explanation that doesn’t sound unpleasant. All the books I’ve read have recommended waiting until the milk supply is stabilised before allowing your partner to sample it. My face and neck are hot as I stammer through something approximating an answer. “Right n-now, everything... is... n-new. Once my milk comes in p-properly, it’ll takes b-better.”

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