Page 30 of Regressive

“Because he can?” Hot water runs between us, but he shivers anyway, and I press my chest to his, trying to give him warmth. “He takes, Little Lamb, and when he notices you enough to give you something in return, it’s never good.”

His words hit my heart like a hammer, and the smallest piece chips away. I don’t know what it means, or what any of us can do, but I have to act in some way. I look up at this man, so handsome and kind, so talented and skilled. I grab the soap and lather it in my hands, then gently scrub his skin.

He watches me as I work, coating his shoulders and then down to his chest, my fingers gliding down his hard flesh. His muscles tense, and his abdomen caves, quivering under my touch. His hands reach out for me, fingering my nipple, and watching it rise to a hard peak.

“You don’t need to—” I start, wanting to focus on him, make him feel better, but he cups my breasts in his large hands and pushes them together, then drops his mouth to latch on.

The sensation runs through me, electric shocks that run straight between my legs. He moves to the other breast, and licks and sucks just as greedily, eliciting a moan that echoes off the bathroom tiles.

Silas looks up at me, eyes dark with heat. His mouth crashes against mine, kissing me with intensity. I’ve never felt him like this—so raw and feral. I didn’t know he had this side to him. I hold onto him tight, wanting him to pour all of that into me.

I shift backwards, searching for the wall. I find it and drag him to me, hiking a leg over his hip, feeling his length between my thighs.

“Fuck me,” I tell him, finding the words he taught me. “Fuck me and make this all go away.”

His eyes meet mine and a dark glint shines back. “You’re just another one of my sins, Imogene. Another victim to add to the list.”

“No,” I tell him. “I’m not one of your victims. I’m one ofyou. One of us. Born and raised for this moment.”

His hands move under me, lifting me off the floor. My back is pressed against the tile and the tip of his cock probes urgently at my entrance. I rock my hips, desperate to feel him inside of me. Somehow, he holds back. “You don’t belong to me, Imogene.”

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know. Anex wants me for his own use. He’ll never give me an Order.”

“Fuck his Orders, Silas.” I kiss away the shock of my Regression, licking his lips, his tongue. “Rex owns me, and he has opened our life to you. All of you. He loves you that much and I—” I swallow the word. Love is complicated in Serendee. I rock my hips against him again and this time his cock inches in, stretching me slowly. “This is between us, the five of us, nothim.” I bite down on my bottom lip and then whisper, “Don’t make me beg, not tonight.”

Something in him breaks, like a dam crumbling under the pressure. His hips rear back, and he eases in, filling me with his length. The air knocks out of me, and he does it again, with deep sweeping thrusts. Even in all of this, Silas is a man of skills, a man that knows how to make a woman feel good. My tits bounce against his chest, grazing my nipples over the hard muscles, sending shockwaves through my nerves. He spreads my ass cheeks, and massages in the spot he’d explored before, eliciting shuddering quivers from back to front. He isn’t hard and fast, or lost to his own demons like Rex. He doesn’t pound into me like Rex, trying to bruise every inch of my soul. With Silas, every movement is intentional, delicious, and by the time the orgasm rolls over me, my entire body begs for release.

“Keep doing that,” I cry, and he captures my mouth once again. I taste his tongue, swallow his hot breath, as the orgasm comes hard, a bright blinding light, in a sea of darkness. Silas doesn’t stop until his body tenses, muscles undulating, hips rocking, until his seed fills me—our bodies tight and loose at the same time.

His mouth releases me at the same time he unsheathes himself, gently lowering me back to the floor. He takes the next few minutes to clean me up, washing away his cum with the cooling water.

Wrapped in warm towels, we stand just outside the shower, soaking the floor mat beneath our feet.

“Thank you,” he says, pushing the wet hair off my shoulder. “No one’s ever done that for me before.”

I frown. “Done what?”

What he says next doesn’t just break my heart, it shatters my soul. “Take care of me like that.”

“Because you’re always taking care of everyone else?” I ask, trying to understand. Silas has a position of authority in Serendee. He’s chosen, but tonight showed me he’s responsible for the most bruised and broken of us all. “It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m here for you. The guys are here for you. We can shoulder some of the burden.”

“No,” he says, voice firm. “It’s my place. Not yours. My duty to Serendee.”

I blink, the truth of it all crashing down. “This is wrong, Silas. This is not what The Way is about. Our bodies are temples. We keep them clean and pure so we can become Enlightened.”

He laughs, it’s dark and lacking humor. “No number of lectures, Corrections or showers will make me clean enough for Enlightenment, Imogene.”

I grab his hand, still damp. “What do you mean? Everyone can earn their way back. Even the Fallen.”

“I wish that were true,” he says. “I mean, I wish I could believe it. I used to, during those early days, when I was being trained. I thought I was working toward the greater good, that I was blessed with this face and this body, my persuasive nature by The Way, to help build Serendee into a place of wonder.” His fingers thread through mine. “But now I’m not so sure.” He drops his forehead to mine. “I just feel so dirty. No matter how many showers I take.”

“But—”

He kisses me gently. “Thank you. For being you and giving me this moment.”

With a squeeze of my hand he exits the bathroom. I’m struck by the simplicity of what he said, how even though this man is one of the Chosen and integral to the stability and growth of Serendee, he is just as lost as the rest of us. Rex may be right. I may need to be the anchor for all of these men. The question is will they let me?

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