Page 13 of Regressive

As the others rush forward, I find myself hesitating, feeling a twinge of doubt. Secrets don’t go over well with Rex—especially when they come from the directive of his father’s spiritual mate. It’s also hard to keep anything from the others. Elon is naturally suspicious. Levi is well connected to the inner circle, and Silas has a way of getting me to share my private thoughts. Unlike the other women attending this ceremony, I have four men I must keep in the dark.

I think back to that day, so long ago, when Rex and I sat on top of the cliff as children. He’d hated me even then. I’d always been tainted in his eyes, and I always will be. Perhaps this cleansing, this rebirth, will be what I need to do to make him love and accept me as something other than a body to abuse, or a way to get back at his father.

I glance at the fire and then back at Margaret, the flames giving her hair a wild glow. Our eyes meet and her lips curve into an encouraging smile, her hand waving me to come closer, and the worries fade away.

8

Imogene

I wakeup the next morning feeling giddy for the first time in… well maybe ever.Renewedis the word I’m looking for. I feel like a different woman, empowered and ready to take on the challenges of my household. If that’s the power the women hoped to impart, I’m feeling it.

The sound of a low snore draws my attention to the other side of the bed. Rex is asleep. He must have come in after I did and for once didn’t wake me to fill me with his seed. I prop up on my elbow, taking in the man next to me. He’s on his side, facing the closet, shirtless, his skin a warm tan from his time in the sun. His hair is darker now, not the white blond from his childhood but still golden. His features sharp and appealing—the cut of his jaw darkened by stubble. He’s got the body of a man—they all do—and it’s one thing I find so jarring. I never experienced boys past the age of twelve. We were segregated and now that I’m confronted with it, even passively, everything about his physique seems different and strange.

I peer over him, eyes roaming over his hard abdomen. The trail of golden hair that vanishes under the white sheet. Emboldened by the gathering the night before, and my resolve to better things between me and my mate, I push the sheet down and rest a hand on his hip.

He shifts, not waking, but twisting toward me. My hand travels the slope of his hip until it’s resting more on the hard muscle of his lower abdomen. My cheeks burn even though no one is looking at me. No one knows my Indulgent thoughts.

Carefully, I unpeel the sheet, revealing the darker thatch of hair and his cock resting against his thigh. What startles me is the fact it is already thick, hard from erection. Silas taught me about this, ‘morning wood’ is the slang for it. I get it.

I want to touch it.

Gathering my courage, I move my hand to his thigh, muscular and strong. I run my finger over the tip and instantly clear fluid builds. Rex shifts, but I’m focused on his body. The hard elegance—a body I know can be turned into a weapon in a blink. I remember how he’s used it on me. In my mouth at the club that night, forcing me to swallow. On the dock when he took my innocence. The cold way he Bonded with me and the way he came on my tits.

I pull my hand back, reconsidering when—

“What are you doing, Little Lamb?” His voice is rough. Gritty from sleep.

I freeze and tilt my head. “I-I—” All that comes out is a stutter.

He reaches out, warm fingers tilting my chin upward. “Use your words. Why are you touching my dick?”

“I-I—” I swallow. “You looked so peaceful. Quiet. And you graciously let me sleep last night. I thought maybe I could show you my appreciation the way a mate would.”

He shifts around, propping on his elbow so he’s facing me. From this angle his erection looks impossibly larger. Or maybe itislarger. My heart pounds and a sense of inadequacy fills me. As though he knows, a small smile lingers on his mouth. “How exactly would you do that?”

“I could, uh, touch it?” The heat in my face quadruples. “Until you reach completion.”

His eyebrows raise in a way that makes me feel foolish. “You want to give me an orgasm?”

“Yes. A handjob—that’s what Silas called it right?” I’m so flustered, so out of my element that my palms start to sweat. “Unless you would rather me not.”

His forehead creases at Silas’ name, but a moment later it smooths back out. “Let me tell you one thing, Little Lamb, no man is ever going to decline an orgasm first thing in the morning.” He stretches on his back, arms behind his head, elbows bent. Although he’s the picture of calm, his cock rises between his legs, eager with anticipation. “Ready when you are.”

I try to remember everything Silas taught me:Act confident. Men love to have their cocks touched. Don’t act nervous. Enjoy it. You’re giving someone pleasure—that’s a good thing, especially if he’s someone you care about.

Do I care about Rex? I ask myself, building up the nerve to take him in my hand. His lower belly dips when I finally do, caving inward. A surge of pride runs through me.Idid that. I do have control here. I can give this man—my mate—what he wants.

I stroke gently at first and Rex hums with approval. “Don’t be scared, Imogene. I won’t break.”

I tighten my grip, stroking up and down, feeling the velvet covering the hard shaft. His breathing changes, deeper—louder. His fingers on one hand twist in the blanket, but his other hand finds the back of my neck, the nape, and he tugs at my hair.

“That’s good, baby,” he grunts. “God, your hands are so soft.”

My stomach flip flops, burning desire building at my core. If he touched me right now, I think I’d let him. Let him draw me to the edge and fulfill my own needs. He doesn’t, he just watches me with those piercing blue eyes, jaw tensing as I grip him harder, tugging until there’s nothing but blistering hard heat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, body growing rigid. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”

White semen spills from the tip, hot and drippy over my fist. As he seizes, pulling hard at my hair, I remember the taste, the salty fluid. There’s a craving to taste it again, but I focus now on not making a mess. On making sure he’s fulfilled. I hold firm, not releasing him until I’ve milked every last drop.

---