Escaping Death

Solana

Coming home was almost as painful as I had expected it to be, but I was wrong about the underlying sources of that pain.

I usually brace myself for the usual sense of not belonging, the sense of being hated and blamed, outcasted. This time, though, I’ve learned that my sense of not belonging, of not having a place or a purpose is not unique to me.

Each of my siblings has expressed their own sense of directionlessness, uselessness. I’ve felt selfish ever since, soaking in my own sorrows not once considering the toll their responsibilities take on them. And then I felt guilty for feeling selfish because their suffering shouldn’t negate mine — I’m allowed and entitled to my feelings.

More unexpectedly, though, was how guilty I felt watching Ace and Alec going at one another, or constantly waiting for Beta Runidar or his wife Mia to demand I leave.

It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that I might have been wrong all these years about the people closest to me back then. I thought leaving was the best option. I could relieve the Grove of my presence whilst searching for Hunter and seeking justice for myself.

Well…I found him.

I found him, and my mate, and three other guys who have put up with my bullshit and penchant for violence, who have gone arguably above and beyond to keep me safe — and happy.

It’s been so long since I’ve been happy I almost didn’t recognize the feeling. Every time my chest tightened or my heart fluttered, it was them and their stupid banter, their stupid smiles, and their stupid affection. Breaking down the fortress around my heart brick by brick.

The last of the wall is crumbling as Dean, Tate, and I barrel towards my suite. I know Ace saw us leave. Just as he kept an eye on me, I kept an eye on him, needing to know where he was throughout the night, needing the comfort that his proximity brings me.

And if I’m very honest with myself… needing his permission. I know I’m free to make my own choices, he’s made that clear from day one. But I don’t think it’s naive, wishful thinking on my part when I say that things have been shifting for us.

I don’t need his permission, but I want it.

I don’t need his approval, affection, or touch…but I want it.

I don’t need to be kept. I don’t need to be claimed.

But…

“You look tired, Sunshine,” Dean lands behind me on the balcony. His body presses up against my back and his lips skim the exposed skin of my shoulder. “Why don’t I run you a bath?”

I spin slowly in his arms, resting my hands on his chest as he continues to pepper my neck in kisses. My hands drop of their own accord down to his waistband where my index fingers hook themselves inside his belt loops.

His lips blaze a trail along my jaw and down to my mouth. When our lips connect I can feel the heat from his inner flames building, and the bulge growing behind his zipper when I tug at his belt loops bringing our hips together.

Dean groans into my mouth deepening the kiss. He shivers every time I run the pad of my thumb down the length of his hardness. He owns my tongue, lapping at me, tasting me, teasing me.

I manage to undo his belt and unbutton and unzip his pants before he laughs lightly against my lips and pulls his hips away. My lips chase after his when he breaks away from me followed by a rush of cool air replacing the warmth of his body near mine.

My heavy lids flutter open to find that Tate has pulled Dean backwards onto one of the benches on my balcony and is fast at work securing him to it at the wrists and ankles.

I’m fixated on the way his inked fingers loop and knot the black silk ribbons around Dean’s body, binding him helplessly to the bench. The muscles in his arms and chest flex violently against the restriction of the ribbons, threatening to Hulk right out of his shirt.

The thought of Dean — kind, gentle, but deadly Dean — going beast mode with me as his prey has molten heat pooling low in my belly. My thighs rub together reflexively, the friction against my core is just this side of enough to make me whimper with need.

Tate fastens the last knot around his brother and pins me with a look of hunger so dire all the moisture in my body floods south.

Oh, fuck.

Wordlessly, Tate prowls over towards me, coming to a stand behind me so that I’m facing Dean. Tate draws the zipper of my dress down painfully slowly. My chest heaves with anticipation and desire. He’s so close to me but has yet to actually lay a finger on me.

I wonder idly if that’s deliberate, because I have the feeling that when he does finally touch me my skin may erupt into violent flames.

Dean watches helplessly as my dress glides gently down my body, pooling at my feet, leaving me bare except for my skimpy, red panties.

He releases a strangled sound while he fights against the restraints he knows he won’t be able to break out of. His eyes pinch shut like he’s in pain, and when I look down to his lap I can see why.

His erection has broken free from the slit in his boxers and jerks up looking painfully hard. The evidence of his arousal beads temptingly at the head of his cock, glistening against the metal from his piercing.

I’ve never wanted to taste something more than I have at this moment. I want to dive into his lap and suck the juice from his slit as I tongue around his piercing.

As if he has a direct line to my thoughts, Dean shudders before his eyes open as black saucers.

“Tate,” his brother’s name is a whispered plea.

From behind me still, Tate tuts at his brother. “Don’t let him fool you, Sunshine. He’s loving this more than you can possibly imagine. The more we deny him, the more he gets off.”

I turn to face Tate, stepping out of my dress as I do but nearly trip over my own feet when I catch sight of him.

His slacks are pushed down over his hips, and he’s standing there cock in hand, stroking himself leisurely.

But that’s not what nearly topples me over. It’s the two, three, four…eight bars pierced through the underside of his length like a ladder from his balls to his tip.

And fuck do I want to climb it.

Tate beckons me closer while he seats himself down on another bench opposite Dean. “Come, Sunshine.”

Gods I think I already have.

I move to straddle him but he twists me by the hips so I’m facing Dean again. Tate hooks his thumbs into the elastic of my panties and guides them down to my feet so I can step out of them, too.

Rather than cast them aside, he uses them to bind my arms behind my back at my elbows. I rub my thighs together again seeking more friction as I watch Dean’s cock pulse and jerk with need against his stomach.

“You have such a delectable ass, like a peach I just want to —“ I yelp loudly as Tate’s teeth sink into the flesh of my right cheek. “So fucking juicy,” he hums.

Tate’s fingers skirt up the inside of my legs where the evidence of my arousal has slickened my thighs. Easily he slips one, long finger inside my heat, pumping me in long, slow strokes before adding another.

“You’re so ready, Sunshine. But we’re going to go slow, okay? Think of a safe word for me. This might feel intense and you’ll probably tell me to stop but you won’t mean it.”

Fuck. I’m already about to combust and he has barely touched me. Aside from how fucking amazing his fingers feel working my body from the inside all I can think about is the all consuming heat — the flames threatening to burst forth.

“Fire,” I practically moan as his fingers slip out of me and glide up to my plucker before his hands settle on my hips.

Tate guides me backwards over his lap so my legs are draped over his. My arms are still pinned behind me leaving me completely exposed to him and Dean, and completely at his mercy.

“Count for me, Dean,” Tate says to his brother and then lines himself up at my entrance and pushes in.

Fuuuck, that feels good.

“Three,” Dean’s voice cracks with need.

Tate holds me still, allowing me to get used to the sensation of his piercings and how they stretch me so deliciously. I roll my hips forward to try to sink down on him more but Tate tuts at my impatience.

“For fuck’s sake, T,” Dean growls at his brother who rewards us by sinking my down another three bars. “Six.”

By now I’m panting heavily against Tate’s chest. It feels like I’m being stretched to my limits and the metal of his piercings is warming with my body heat creating a vibrant sensation deep inside of me.

“Relax, Sol,” Tate kisses the back of my shoulder and pushes the rest of the way into me as I exhale a shaky breath.

“Eight,” Dean whimpers and precum leaks steadily from his tip.

I’m filled to the brim with Tate’s massive length, the piercings making it feel thicker and hotter inside of me. With my arms restrained and my legs draped over his and spread wide, I have no leverage to rock against him or bounce up and down on him.

“Slow, Sol,” Tate reminds me, then uses firm hands on my hips to grind me against his lap. He only lifts me up an inch or two at most before sinking back into me, favoring the rocking of my hips to spearing me.

Minutes? Hours? An eternity later? I begin to feel the build up of an impending orgasm. My insides tighten and coil, every stroke feels better than the last, tighter and tighter I’m wound up, practically crying with need for release.

I try to bring my legs together to gain some kind of leverage to give my clit some attention but Tate spreads his legs even wider. “You’ll come from my cock alone, Solana. Give in to how good it feels with me inside you.”

And I do. I dive headlong into that feeling, abandoning all sense of rationality and safety, falling past caution and straight into euphoria.

The coil snaps, releasing a rush of bliss that illuminates me from the inside out. Tate continues to rock me on his length, prolonging my release, my satisfied moans echoing into the night.

As I begin to come down, hissing as my walls clench at the overstimulation, Tate follows me down into the abyss, finding his own release and coating my walls with his seed.

I could fall asleep right here, right now. Slumped against Tate’s firm chest, soothed by the steady rhythm of his heart and drowning in his dark and delicious scent.

Dean is practically writhing against the restraints, thrusting his hips into the air beyond desperate for release. He’s painfully hard and the flames he throws at us with his eyes reflect his agony.

“Please, for the love of the Gods, please,” he begs.

Tate gently eases out of me, then lifts my legs from over his, giving them a quick rub down so I’m able to stand and walk towards Dean.

I’m still bound at the elbows and the grin on Tate’s face says he’s not about to untie either one of us.

As I straddle Dean as gracefully as I can without losing balance, his mouth suctions on my nipple. He wraps his tongue around my hardened peak groaning and grunting like I’m his first meal in a week.

I try and fail to use my body to position him such that I can sink down on him. I’m dripping with mine and Tate’s arousal causing Dean’s cock to slip and slide up and down my pussy’s lips and my clit.

I continue trying to notch his head at my entrance, but he’s so wound up that the feeling of my heat rubbing against his shaft is enough to bring him to release after only a few seconds.

Just as the first ropes of his thick release spurt onto his stomach I manage to slip his head past my folds and impale myself down on his cock, ripping a ground rattling man-moan from the depths of his chest.

I rock my hips and bounce on his length until his spasms subside. Dean captures my lips as he comes down from cloud nine while I can feel Tate undoing the binds around my elbows.

Dean wraps his arms around my waist as I wrap my arms around Dean’s neck, and Tate very tenderly rubs my shoulders bringing life back to my limp limbs.

“How about that bath?” Tate asks softly.

I lift my head to meet Tate’s icy blue eyes over Dean’s shoulder. He’s wearing a devious but bashful smirk as he nods towards the glass door to the side.

Ace stands in the open doorway, Eli and Hunter seated in arm chairs in front of the glass next to him. All of whom are trying and failing to conceal their grins.

“Come, Solana,” Ace commands, holding out a hand to lead me into the bathroom where a bubble bath sits ready for me.