Page 53 of Bound By Obsession

“Not now,” I shake my head, a flare of embarrassment lining my cheeks. But he ignores me. Placing his lips on my collar bone, Axel kisses my skin in places I’ve never let him go before. My chest, over my heart, my sternum. He stops at each nipple to slowly flick his tongue over the bud. I gasp, silencing a groan. If he knows how incredible that feels, he’ll want to do it all the time.

Moving lower, I brace my hands on his shoulders to stop him. Axel lifts his head, searching my eyes again. When I don’t object, he kisses my sternum and shifts over to kiss each of my ribs, then moves to the other side.

I lie frozen, trapped in a shell of myself. If I order him to stop, the others will hear and wonder what’s wrong. The soft press of his lips are excruciating, gliding over the parts I hate most about myself. The ribs that used to stick out like a skeleton, the stomach that used to growl for food I didn’t have.

As Axel’s lips continue their slow, deliberate path down my torso, my body feels like it’s shutting down. The weight of his affection, his tenderness, is unbearable against the parts of me that scream imperfection. His touch is gentle, reverent even, but in my head, all I can see are the harsh angles, the bones that once protruded grotesquely, and the softness that has returned, a reminder of all the years I fought against my own reflection.

I press my palms harder against his shoulders, not to push him away but to ground myself, to stop from spiraling. His lips trace over the sharp lines of my ribs, and I flinch. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull away. My breath comes in shallow bursts, each kiss sending waves of discomfort crashing over me.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, but Axel hears it. He pauses, his lips hovering just above my skin, waiting. I know he’s giving me a choice, waiting for me to push him away, but I can’t. I’m trapped in this moment, torn between wanting to let him in and the deep-rooted fear that he’ll see me the way I see myself—broken, ruined.

Just when I think he might stop, he reaches up, gently cupping my face in one hand. I can hear his voice in my head, his reassurance drowning out the voices that plagued me.

You’re safe with me. I know you don’t see what I see, but you’re not that person anymore. You’re more than your scars.

He’s wrong of course, but Axel has a way of peeling back the layers, of seeing straight through me. I hate it, but at the same time, I need it. I need him. I close my eyes, and release my hands from his shoulders. I remain tense, anticipating the next press of his lips which doesn’t come.

“You’ve done so well,” Axel’s breath fans my abs. The hand on my cheek shifts, grabbing for a pillow which he covers my front with. Then his hands are on my boxers, my cock springing free before his face. Desire rushed back through me with renewed vigor, the weight of a dam bursting open releasingfrom my chest. Swirling his tongue around my tip, I moan, fully relaxing into the mattress.

In the background, Avery’s moans have taken over the room. Skin slapping flesh pounds against the hard flooring as she screams, falling apart in a display I can envision perfectly in my mind. I roll my hips, trying to gain more friction from Axel’s mouth but he’s playing hardball. His hands clench my thighs, pinning me in place. God, I love his strength. I hear the dull knock of glass on wood as Wyatt places down his empty bottle and leaves.

At the same time as Axel stops toying with me, taking my cock fully into his mouth, Huxley lifts and lowers a shaky Avery onto my face, the taste of his cum spreading over my tongue.

“Happy New Years,” Hux chuckles, tapping my arm as he and Dax also leave. And with that, the line between control and surrender dissolves entirely.

Sleep clings to me, repeatedly dragging me under while those either side of me flinch and shift. A bone-deep exhaustion pins me down into the mattress, dreams flittering in and out. Images of glistening eyes, full lips curved into smiles. Someone kisses my head.

I remain a dead weight pressed up against a strong back, my limbs too heavy to move, too weary to care. The scent of citrus flickers at the edge of my awareness, but it’s hard to hold on to anything for long. I lean myself closer to who I know instinctively is Axel. From behind, an arm snakes around my waist and tugs me back. I don’t bother fighting, not even when a hand covers my mouth.

“Hold still,” a distant voice penetrates the darkness, although the brush of lips is hot on my ear. I don’t have the energy to doanything other than remain still, not after Axel and Garrett were finished with me.

They spent hours lavishing my body with pleasure, taking me savagely at first and then worshiping me with longing kisses and tender licks. The three of us ended up lying vertically, the gentle rhythmic thrusting of them both inside of me akin to making love and I’m fairly certain I was asleep before they’d even withdrawn their cocks. It was glorious.

Now, in true Garrett fashion, an erection pushes insistently at the curve of my ass. Someone get this guy a medal for stamina. I attempt to mutter something along those lines but the hand on my mouth tightens.

“Shh. Don’t wake Axel.” I huff into the hand, surrendering to the cock pushing its way between my thighs. I try to shift, acting as an accommodating host, when the shaft brushes my pussy and I gasp. A shot of tender soreness bursts to life, causing me to jolt. I squirm more now, attempting to protest that it’s too much. I can’t take anymore. The mouth beside my ear places gentle kisses against my hairline. “Relax. This is for me.”

Slowly rocking his hips back and forth, he uses the apex of my thighs to stroke himself. His breath hitches, his hips jerking with slow, controlled thrusts.

The hand stays firm over my mouth, muffling the whimpers that build at the back of my throat as his cock slides between my thighs. He’s using me—my warmth, my softness—to state his need. It shouldn’t be so erotic considering what we were doing a few hours ago, but somehow a different kind of need has awoken within me. One which wants to let my sleepy state hide how much it turns me on. I’m just an object for pleasure.

Biting down on my ear lobe, I clench my ass in response, squeezing him tightly. His harsh breathing picks up, a lone sound in the darkness as he pumps back and forth. The slick, heated friction between us intensifies, each stroke teasing mein ways I can’t ignore. The quiet rhythm of his body, the subtle desperation in his movements, builds a tension that coils low in my belly. The soreness between my legs throbs in protest, but there’s a strange thrill in the powerlessness of it all, in being pinned down and used so deliberately.

His hand slips from my mouth, brushing down my neck before cupping my breast, his fingers rough as they tweak a sensitive nipple. I stifle a moan, biting my lip, but he hears it. He knows.

“That’s it,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low, reverberating through the darkness. “I can feel your heat. You’d take all of me if I decided it.”

Axel shifts beside me, still asleep, his even breathing a stark contrast to the hungry gasps on this side of the bed. He drapes an arm across my waist and tightens possessively, as if even in sleep Axel can sense what’s happening, what’s being done to me. It only makes my attacker bolder. He thrusts harder, pushing himself closer to the edge. My body betrays my exhaustion, my soreness, as desire curls deep inside me.

“You’re going to make me come,” he groans, my breast being roughly groped in his large hand. His rhythm falters, becoming erratic. My breath catches, the tension too much to bear. I grip the sheets, biting back the sharp cry rising in my throat as my body, drained as it is, responds to him with a sudden pulse of pleasure.

His hand flies back to cover my mouth just as I arch into him, and his groan is a low, broken sound as he spills against me, warmth spreading between my thighs. He stills, his lips brushing my neck, and for a moment, the room is filled with nothing but our heavy breathing.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice rough with satisfaction. His hands release my mouth and waist, and in the next moment, he’s gone.

I lie there, now too wired for sleep, as the click of one door closes and the bathroom one opens. Light floods the room, the rough movements of a towel being tousled over a head of dark hair and a T-shirt being pulled on. Garrett doesn’t even try to slip in quietly, dropping himself onto the mattress with a soft bounce. He grabs for me instantly, his hand curling around my thighs and suddenly jerking away.

“Holy crap, Peach. I hope you’re dreaming about me because you aregushing.” Heat floods my cheeks, a delayed response stuttering in my brain. What the fuck just happened? In front of me, Axel’s hazel eyes blink open, his voice void of any grogginess.

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