Page 99 of Fragile Facade
“He asked me not to.”
Soren nods, like Krypt maybe told him the same thing. My brother is more of a person as Krypt than he ever was as Keegan, and I respect him enough to abide by that.
“I don’t even know if I did it because I wanted to protect him or if I did it to prove to myself that I could. Guess I lost music and myself.”
Soren straightens his head, chin on my chest, eyes on mine. “Not lost. Set aside for when you’re ready.”
“What…” I blink at him. “What the fuck is this? Are you smart now? You speak this deeply? I thought you were a narcissist who only gave a shit about himself.”
He grins, watching my throat swallow. “Yeah, well, back in Reaper City, you got put in that box Remi and Selena are in. I don’t give a fuck about much other than my pride, but the few fucks I do have go there. And there you are.”
And there I am.My throat gets tighter, and breathing seems hard. His heartbeat pounds in my chest again. “You capable of love, Soren?” I ask, a mocking tone to my voice to hide how serious the question is.
“Yeah,” he says honestly. “I’m narcissistic, not a narcissist.”
“The fuck does that mean?” He’s delusional if he thinks he isn’t a narcissist. But then again, no two brains are the same, and maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s just Soren Sauder.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want, which means I can love. Can you?”
I snort at that. Such a Soren answer.
Looking at the ceiling instead of him, I think about my appointments that studied my personality. “Psych says I use love as a strategic tool rather than an emotional connection. Like I use my brother to make myself feel better about his life now, instead of actually loving him. I don’t know. I want to. Like I kind of crave it.”
“Psych tells me my love is superficial and never lasts long. That I want love just to be worshipped.” He moves his body, drawing my attention. “She’s not always right, is she?”
She usually is, and he definitely wants to be worshipped, but I think he wants me to say no. He wants to hear that we can maybe love each other. “No.”
His cheeks pinken, and he licks his lips as he lifts onto his elbows above me. “Well, just in case she is…”
When he kisses me, music fills my head, and I know exactly how to interpret it. Because he’s the one playing it, but I’m the one orchestrating.
His lips are soft against mine, not playful, but honest. Gentle because he wants to be languid, and sincere because I’m kissing him back the same way and he doesn’t have to take all the blame. Warmth spreads through my body. A wave of something so foreign yet so comfortable that my arms slide up his back, lifting his shirt so I can feel his skin. His Vile House tattoo is intact, and I picture it on his smooth, muscled skin as my lips open and our tongues meet.
Soren licks my lips, smiling as he lifts his body to let me pull his shirt off. He’s only in boxers, and as much as I want to see all of him, this mussed morning look is new to me, attractive because it’s like seeing him from an angle I’ve never been allowed to look from before. I tug it over his head, tossing it aside and meeting his eyes. So blue in the early morning light and so wide with all his conflicting thoughts.
When he opens his mouth to potentially ruin the moment, I pull him back down and shut him up with my tongue. It’s even better this time because neither of us are running our mouths to downplay the moment. We aren’t fighting instinct, pretending we don’t enjoy this because it’s outside of our normal personalities, or trying to outdo one another. This time, we’re working together, and fuck if that doesn’t make our music pure harmony.
His fingers weave into my hair, and mine trail down his spine, feeling every inch of him as he subtly grinds against my body. Aligned, his cock hardens against mine, rutting together through our boxers so slowly that my breathing slows with his motions. I’ve never felt calm and aroused together like this, needy for something but in no rush to get to the finish line.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue diving into my mouth, and I cup his ass, rocking him between my legs so we’re grinding together. Soren has a lithe, athletic body riddled with some gnarly scars, but he’s sexier because of them. He’s a bit leaner than I am, which makes him fit perfectly between my legs. When he lifts up to pull my shirt off, I pull him back down with my legs wrapped around his hips, letting him go through the motions of fucking me while we’re still dressed where it counts.
Would I? Could I?
He feels good there. So good that I moan into his mouth when he humps me, our cocks rubbing blissfully.
“Still thinking about masks and music?” he rasps.
“Soren?”
“Yeah?”
I drag my teeth over his bottom lip. “Shut up.”
He smiles, but it turns into a groan when my thighs open and I grab his ass to grind him against me. Because I’m not thinking about masks and music.
I’m already maskless…
I feel the music…
