Page 63 of The Hate We Breathe
“Juliet!”
Laughter echoes back to me, not Juliet’s but a man’s. Morpheus’? Vargas’? I can’t tell.
Smoke crawls up my throat each time I echo her name. Over and over again, I call for her. The rocks and glass beneath me bleed away into wet sand and I collapse against it, harshbreaths escaping me as the fresh air thickens into grasping chains. They snap out from the gritty particles, wrapping around my ankles and wrists. They pull me, dragging my broken, bleeding form over the ground.
“Fuck!”
Jerking my head up, I roar with rage. Dark clouds swirl above my head and then, a beam of light pours through them, illuminating a lone lighthouse several feet away. The chains go still, but don’t release me. My eyes widen as I spy a figure stepping out at the top, her body backlit by the single point of light.
Juliet.
As soon as I make the realization, the world shifts again, turning over on its axis, and I’m falling, the chains disappearing as quickly as they appeared. I close my eyes, preparing for a jarring impact. To my surprise, however, it doesn’t hurt when I land.
Instead, it’s as if I merely jumped a foot or so and when I peer open my eyes, I’m dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and nothing else. The blood has all been wiped away to reveal nothing but clean, unbroken, unblemished skin. Lifting my head, I take in the new surroundings.
Cory’s Gym. Relief fills me. Oh, thank fuck.
I take one stumbling step through the building, then I come to a stop as shadows towards the back of the room disperse and reveal Juliet in a ring, her teeth bared and blood dripping steadily from her forehead and nose.
“Juliet!” I dive forward, launching myself across the room in her direction. Just before I reach her, those chains appear once more, snagging around my waist, ankles, and throat. Snarling and cursing, I fight against them, one hand trying to pry the links surrounding my throat and the other reaching for my girl.
She never looks up. Never even notices me as the shadows dive atop her. “No!” My scream combines with hers.
A cold shockwakes me from the nightmare and I jolt into the early morning with the realization that the room has gone from comfortable to icy. My breath fogs out in front of my face, but more important than that—Juliet is still here. In my bed. Against my body.
I drag her closer for a moment, grateful for the wakefulness. Despite my exhaustion, I force my eyes to remain open as the seconds tick into minutes into an hour. I count every breath, keep my palm pressed flat to her throat, marking every heartbeat.
So long as she’s in my arms, she can’t be taken away. Mine is not a gentle possession. It is a bound thing, a vow that’s etched into my soul. And it cannot be erased.
24
JULIET
It’s a good few days after the whole fiasco with Darrio at The Dionysus Lounge when I wake with a head buried between my thighs and a mouth suctioned over my clit. An orgasm rockets through me before I’m even fully coherent. My hands shoot down, tangling in slightly longer locks that tell me it’s Lex. Of course it is. Who else would wake me up with their tongue in my cunt?
Though, I suppose it could’ve been Gio, but he’d been heading over to Nolan’s the night before. So, even if the longer strands of hair give away my mystery cunt-eater, I would’ve already known the most likely candidate.
As soon as my release ebbs and my thighs stop shaking uncontrollably, Lex lifts his mouth away from my sopping wet pussy and grins up at me. My chest pumps up and down as I try to catch my breath. It doesn’t seem to work. I’m still gasping for air when he speaks.
“Morning, baby.”
Little shocks of pleasure jerk at my muscles as I try to work up the energy to reply. My throat is dry, my tongue practically swollen and stuck to the roof of my mouth. My lack of a response doesn’t give him pause as Lex crawls up from the place betweenmy legs, shoving my sleep shirt—one of his—up along with him. In the next second, my arms are being stretched over my head as he pulls the fabric the rest of the way off.
I groan. “Lex…”
He lifts one of my legs and pulls it around his hip as he settles himself more firmly between my thighs. The head of his cock nudges against my core and I arch, crying out as he pushes inside, thrusting all the way to the hilt with little warning. With no foreplay other than the swift waking orgasm, I cry out as his cock spears me, stretching my inner walls. Muscles continue to spasm with little, tiny aftershocks, thanks to the force of his thrust. I shudder and lock my fingers around the back of his neck.
It takes what feels like a lifetime before I’m calm enough to look him in the eye and speak in a semi-comprehensible way.
“Iknow I went to bed wearing underwear,” I mutter, sucking in lungfuls of air as his cock jerks inside me. My inner muscles clamp down, squeezing his shaft, and he groans, low and rumbly. The vibrations of the sound move from his chest to my nipples, forcing them to tighten.
Need powers through me, pulsing like a living beat separate from the rhythm of my heart. It leaves me a contracted, trembling mess in his arms, under his big, bulky body. The skin of his chest shifts up and down as he withdraws and then pushes back into me. The dark lettering and lines of his tattoos move with him, drawing my rapt attention.
“They were in the way,” is his only response, voice full of that low rasp of desire that makes my insides want to clench all over again. I resist the urge, but barely. There’s no telling when my body will take control from me again, so I get out my words while I still can.
“Is there a reason you couldn’t wait for me to wake up?” I ask, tracing my fingers over a snake crawling along down hisshoulder and pec before disappearing around the side of his abdomen.
Lex moves his hands down my sides, grazing my bare breasts, lower to grasp my hips as he lifts me against him. Clenching my teeth, my head sinks back against the pillow and mattress as he slides a few inches out before surging back in. Then, his thumb is there, nudging between my legs and rubbing over my clit with insistent movements.
