Page 53 of Tyrant

“Only if you let me do most of this myself but there’s no way that I’m—”

His hands are on my hips, cutting me off. His fingers bite into my skin, before one travels lower. He cups my pussy over the thin fabric. I’m not wearing anything underneath. He isn’t well enough for this, but I sit back further, letting him palm me possessively. His message is clear. My cunt is his. I’m his. He studies me, still hooked up to all those machines. I can see his heartrate elevate on the screen. The door is locked, and no one is monitoring him but me right now.

I know that if I unhook that finger clip then alarms will probably sound. Gray turns his head pointedly to the monitor and then looks down to the floor.

It feels daring to get off the bed and unplug hospital equipment, but this is what Gray wants. He’s okay. Even Archer said with time and careful, patient healing, he’d be okay. That’s probably the most messed up part of the whole thing. Zale wanted his son to suffer the way he did, but honestly, he doesn’t appear to have suffered much. He went and found himself another club and wasted no time getting to the top.

All that’s left after the machines is the IV. Gray has pulled everything else off. He sits up in the bed, peels the tape off his wrist, and slowly works out the needle. He’s methodical and blood doesn’t go squirting all over like when people do it forcefully.

“I know you think I need to heal, and I do. I’m not a superhuman, but that doctor on my father’s payroll took care of me for every bruise and cut and beating and burn. I’ll bet all Archer had to do was clean me up and give me painkillers.”

“Painkillers that are making you not think and feel right.”

“I can’t feel the pain. Pretty sure I’ll feel the pleasure just fine.”

“Gray… you have to let me do this for you. Let me be the one who loves you. I know you won’t get hurt then. You refused me once and this isn’t payback. It’s me taking care of you, giving you what you need. I get that you need me more than anything right now because we came so close to- to…” I can’t even finish that. I will never, ever finish that because I won’t let it happen.

“Just watch. Please.”

He leans back in the bed and takes a long breath. I was right about the painkillers. He probably can’t even properly feel his body right now.

I shift to the end of the bed. It’s large and plenty big enough for me there. His eyes follow my every move, every action.

I pull my hoodie over my head. Raiden went back to the house to grab a bag of clothing and a few pairs of shoes for all of us. I have a tank top underneath, a tight one, so I’m not wearing a bra either.

Gray studies my leggings like he wants to tear them in half. He’s proven that he’s capable of doing just that, so I get them off in a hurry. I scramble up on the bed, kneeling at the end, but it’s the wrong position. He can’t see anything from here. I readjust, putting my legs out in front of me and spreading them wide, opening myself almost obscenely. My face heats, but the way Gray’s air rattles down into his lungs in a gulp makes me bolder.

“Normally, you’d be saying dirty things right now. Telling me what to do to please you, but really, pleasing myself does please you. Let me do it for you. I’ll give you a show and I’ll narrate it myself. If it’s too much, shut me up.”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t think it’s too much.

I start at my knees, running my hands up, splaying my fingers and pressing into the pale skin there hard enough to leave bright red marks in my wake.

“My leggings are soaking on the floor. They must be because my thighs are already wet and slippery. Can you see it?”

Gray groans, the sound coming from his throat and rumbling up and out.

“You can see how wet I am for you. You want me to put my finger in my slit and gather all that cream and taste it?”

His breathing gets louder. So does mine. I’m hot all over. If I touch myself until I’m soaking this bed.” My fingers dip between my lips. I part myself for him and slide two fingers through my wetness, inching towards my entrance. I stray away from it to smear my arousal over the insides of my thighs before I coat my fingers again and skim them over my belly. I paint a glistening strip there where my tank top ends before I bring them to my mouth and suck them clean.

I hum my approval. “Delicious. Musky and sweet, just for you.” I lick my lips to gather every last drop into my mouth and hold myself open with one hand while I churn my fingers through my wetness again. “Look at how pink and swollen I am.”

If those machines were still on, I know Gray’s heart would be slamming wildly. I’m still afraid this is far too much. I’m scared that I’m going to hurt him. He’s severely injured. A regular hospital probably wouldn’t release him for weeks, but I know that in a few hours, he’s going to get up and walk out of here because he has to.

He stares at me so intently that my blood rushes, hammering through arteries. I skim my finger over my clit, pressing lightly, and moan at how good it feels.

I circle my entrance, pushing two fingers inside. I keep my eyes on Gray’s face, watching him watch me. His gaze is scalding hot. His hands fist in the blanket still covering him.

“Don’t go too far, Lark,” he warns me, like he’s still planning on grabbing me and fucking me senseless. “

You want me to beg for the right to fuck myself? Please, Gray? Please, may I shove my fingers into my own pussy?”

He shakes his head. His hand uncurls and traces the line of his cock under the blanket.

“Right. This is your pussy. Only yours. I’m not allowed to pleasure it without your saying so.” Neither of us believe that for a second, but I like saying the filthy words. It makes my heart beat even faster. It’s in danger of exploding and I’ve just started.

He throws back a corner of the blanket and I scramble up to get out of the way. I pull it straight off the bed, my mouth watering at the unobstructed view of Gray’s muscled body. He might be bruised and stitched up, but he’ll always be beautiful.

---