Page 40 of Bound By Obsession

Eventually, I rouse as the sun begins to set, casting the room in a warm, golden light. I shift, my limbs heavy from sleep, and find myself staring directly into Dax’s icy blue eyes. His gaze is soft, all the usual sharpness muted. Somehow, his presence chases away the last remnants of the coldness I woke up with.

“How long have you been watching me sleep?” I ask, raising a brow. Dax gives me that half-smile of his, as though weighing up his answer.

“Long enough to be considered endearing but not creepy.” I let out a soft laugh, nudging him with my shoulder.

“I can see why you took English lit for extra credit.”

“Best thing I ever did,” he says, wriggling closer, until there isn’t an inch of space between us under the covers. His breath is warm against my lips as he murmurs, “Because it brought me to you.”

His kiss is slow, deliberate and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second. I melt into him, my body responding instinctively, though my mind still feels like it’s catching up. Dax always knows how to make me feel seen, even in my messiest moments. As his lips move against mine, I allow myself to fall into the sensation, letting it drown out the lingering shadows.

But the peace doesn’t last. The moment we pull apart, the weight of everything comes rushing back—the tangled web I can’t escape, the lies, the danger lurking on the edge of our world.

“Dax,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to search his face. “What if I can’t fix any of this? What if Wyatt never forgives me?” Dax silences me with another kiss, this one firmer, more urgent, before pulling back to look me dead in the eyes.

“You don’t have to fix everything and you certainly aren’t asking for forgiveness,” he says, his voice low and steady. “None of this is your fault, and you’re not alone, okay? We’re here. I’m here.”

For a second, I want to believe him. Want to let the comfort of his words wash over me and erase the fear gnawing at my gut. But I know better. Fredrick spent years teaching me that I’ll always be his victim, even when I thought I’d found freedom. Tracing my fingers along his jaw, I try to hold onto this fragile moment for just a little longer.

“Come on Swan, the boys will be ready soon.”

“Ready for what?” I ask but Dax decides he’s said enough. Instead, he tugs me up, cradles me in his arms to the bathroom and proceeds to shower with me. I’m not complaining, sighing at his gentle touches and chaste kisses. He lathers body wash all over us both, slipping and sliding, taking intimate care to wash between my legs. Moving onto my hair, Dax honors me like his queen, his lips finding the crook of my shoulder on multiple occasions. Every time I try to reach for his hardened cock between us, he eases my hand away.

“This is about you,” he whispers. Thoroughly cleaned, Dax takes a warm towel from the rack and wraps me in it. I step back into the bedroom, halting at the sight of Axel standing beside the vanity, a paddle brush in one hand and hairdryer in the other, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“My turn,” Axel declares, his voice smooth and calm, but the intensity in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. Dax gives my lower back a gentle push, and I find myself walking toward Axelwithout even thinking, the soft towel wrapped around me like a shield.

I glance over my shoulder at Dax, but he’s already slipping out of the room, leaving just the two of us. The door closes with a quiet click, and suddenly, the space between Axel and me feels charged with something unspoken. His hazel eyes are heavy with emotion as he looks me over, freshly scrubbed and standing in the center of the fluffy rug. Not just desire, but something deeper. It makes my breath catch.

Axel gestures to the chair in front of the vanity, and I sit, my legs curling up under the towel. I can’t help but shiver a little, not from cold but from the feeling of being cared for like this—like I’m delicate, precious.

“Relax,” Axel laughs softly, running his fingers over my tense shoulders. “I might not have hair but I’m not totally inept.” I smile at him in the mirror, although it wasn’t his skills I was questioning. It was how much longer I can go without throwing myself into his long arms and declaring the depth of my feelings for him. For all of them, because apparently I can’t be satisfied with a typical relationship.

Oblivious, Axel gently untangles the damp strands of my hair with his fingers first. I close my eyes as he begins brushing through my hair, slow and methodical. Each stroke of the brush pulls me further from my swirling thoughts and deeper into the present, the weight of the past momentarily lifting. Axel’s touch is hypnotic, grounding. It makes me feel safe.

He works in silence, drying my hair with precision, the soft hum of the hairdryer filling the space. I feel his gaze on me, the heat of it making my skin tingle, but he doesn’t rush. He’s always had this way of making everything seem like there’s no urgency, like time bends around him.

Setting the dryer down, Axel runs his hands over my now-silky golden hair. I pause to assess the brown roots pushingagainst my scalp, barely a millimeter but now I know why Cathy was so desperate for me to be blonde, I have a decision to make. Should I continue to dye it or become a brunette again like Meg?

“Beautiful,” Axel murmurs, stepping back to admire his work. A faint knock sounds on the door.

“How’s it going in here?” Garrett pops his head around the door. Axel smirks and gestures for him to enter. For a moment the pair of them stand shoulder to shoulder, sizing me up like their next meal. A wave of heat flushes my skin, my nipples tightening under the towel as my mind flashes back to memories of them sharing me and dominating me. As if sensing my thoughts, Axel’s grin widens, a dimple flashing before he turns and slips out of the room. Garrett steps closer, his hands resting on the back of the chair, spinning me to face him.

“Don’t tell me,” I roll my eyes, “all of this is part of some plan you’ve concocted. Using the others to get me ready for you.” He chuckles, the deep, rich sound making my stomach flip.

“I like the way you think, Peach, but not quite. I’m your fairy Garrett-mother, here to help you put clothesonfor once.” True to his word, Garrett turns to the dresser and ruffles through the clothes folded neatly inside. Some are Meg’s that she left behind, figuring I’d have more use for them than her. Garrett pulls out a soft cashmere sweater in a shade of light gray and a pair of black leggings.

“Here,” he says, turning to face me. “Something comfortable but cute. You’ll thank me later.” I narrow my eyes at him as I stand, the towel wrapped around me slipping slightly.

“Do I get any underwear?” Garrett roars with laughter this time, slapping his knee and wagging a finger at me as if I’m a comedy genius. Whipping the towel aside, he helps to guide my feet through the leg holes, pausing to inhale my pussy before pulling the leggings up over my hips. I should probably feel a trace of embarrassment but there are some things you justexpect with Garrett. His audacity is one of them. He slips the sweater over my head, the fabric sliding over my skin like butter. Garrett brushes the back of his tattooed fingers over my nipples through the fabric, his gaze hungry but restrained.

“We’d better get out of this room before I undo everyone’s hard work,” Garrett licks his lips suggestively.

“Where are we going?” I ask. Garrett winks, opening the door to present Huxley standing on the landing outside. The blond beams as he spots me, probably thankful Garrett stuck to his job. The latter jogs downstairs, leaving Huxley to pull me into the cage of his arms.

“Hey,” I breathe. His brown eyes sparkle.

“Hey.” The tension between us has dissipated since yesterday morning, where I kind of blamed him for everything that’s wrong in my life and then screwed him on the kitchen island. Both of those things were needed to get over the hurdles separating us, evidently hitting the reset button on our relationship. “Merry Christmas, my love.” I turn to liquid at the name, leaning against Huxley’s solid chest for support. It’s almost too much, the intensity of care they’re all showing me. How they’ve once again understood exactly what I needed and proven why I was right to fall for them all so quickly.

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