Chapter 204

Oh, I’m still pissed to hell with Neil. He’s being an absolute dick going all Alpha in the middle of our disagreement. Unfortunately for me, I also find this particular brand of dick ridiculously attractive when it comes on Neil. So I’m royally fucked.

Also, well. Who knows if this could be the last time I get to be with Neil like this? I’d have to be a real fool to let this last chance pass me by because I’m mad about something he’s always felt, even during the last times I have been with him.

Yeah, I’m not that stupid. I’m also way too horny to care anymore.

Especially when he opens his mouth.

“If you stay, Chloe, we could do this every day,” Neil says, his voice deep and lust-rough. His eyes bear down into mine. In his, a wildfire rages. I’m so, so ready to ignite. “You’d experience untold pleasures every single day.”

That sounds less like a nanny and more like a sex worker, but since I would be reaping the pleasure in this scenario, I am perfectly fine with playing out this fantasy.

Especially when he grabs the front of my tank top and rips it clean off of me in one long tear. He plucks at the band of my newly-exposed sports bra.

“Take this off,” he commands. “Let me see those tits.”

I comply at once. I grab the bra and yank it up and off my head. I toss it aside.

Neil’s hand returns to the column of my throat. “Stay.”

I comply, pushing myself back against the support of the pull-up bars as much as I can. It’s cool on my naked skin.

Then, much like Steven earlier did, Neil lowers his attention to my aching ribs. With a gentle touch, he inspects the fading bruises.

Maybe this was always his purpose here, to see for himself if Steven’s assessment is true. “It’s a wonder…”

“It’s not enough,” I say.

A gaze of displeasure quickly meets mine. “Did I tell you to speak? Did I command you to put yourself down in my presence?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then silence is what I want from you, until I tell you otherwise. Be good for me, and let me see how you are healing.”

Oh, if I didn’t find his commands so damn sexy, I’d love to give him a piece of my mind. But I know now that good girls get rewards. And I really, really like those rewards.

Whatever Neil sees among my healing bruises has him satisfied, though he still clucks his tongue as he tells me, “You were in here overworking your tired body. That cannot be allowed.”

“I’ll be good,” I say.

“I don’t believe you, not when you haven’t behaved at all thus far.”

I try to stay still and be good for him as he begins to unbutton his own shirt, even after he’s moved his hand away from my throat to work on those more stubborn buttons. Yet, as he slides the shirt down his shoulders, I can’t help but gasp.

The dark tendrils of his silver poison wind and weave across the expanse of his chest, collecting most at the initial wound itself. It’s gnarly looking, the skin raised unevenly in some places, marred and scarred by the poison.

Yet… the chaos of it. The way the tendrils bend and twist, coiling around Neil’s otherwise flawless skin. It’s… oddly beautiful.

Without thinking, I lift a hand and, just as he inspected my wound with his gentle fingers, trace my own fingertips, feather light over the raised, non-healing scar. Neil’s eyes close. I nearly pull away, I don’t want to hurt him.

But then I feel a slight, barely-there vibration in my fingertips. It’s not painful to me, not really. But I’m aware of the way it feels, almost as if it pressed a bit more, it might sting.

Is this what the poison feels to the others in the room? Is the slow awakening of my wolf now allowing me to begin to feel it as well?

“Does it hurt you?” Neil asks. He’s not so Alpha right now. He’s still confident and sexy, but he’s not commanding me to answer. That means I don’t have to, and it won’t ruin the game. We’re outside the game now, if only for a few minutes.

“No,” I say. “Not hurt, but… I can feel… something.” It’s hard to explain.

Leaving the base of the wound, I trace my fingers along one of the spiraling tendrils. The further I go, touching the tendril, the less and less I notice the almost-pain feeling.

“Does it hurt when I touch you like this?” I ask him. I should have asked that before, but I got so caught up in the strange sensation.

“No,” he says. “Not any more than usual. It feels… nice actually. Your touch feels nice.”

Neil lifts his hand again, but instead of going for my throat like I suspect, he cups by cheek and traces his thumb playfully along my bottom lip.

“I wonder…” Neil says, and I hold my breath in anticipation. Usually Neil’s wonderings have pleasurable results. “Would you taste the silver if I kissed you?”

I want to try, so I lick my bottom lip. His eyes darken and the game, it seems, is back on.

“Hold still, Chloe.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, barely a breath, as he closes the distance between us and slants his mouth over mine. He licks his way past my lips. I catch his wandering tongue with my own and yes. I can taste it. That same gentle vibration buzzes against my tongue.

I claw my fingers at his shoulders and hum, pleased, against his lips. I hope that’s enough to answer his wondering. It seems like it is, because in the next moment, he presses himself more fully against me, so that I’m completely pinned to the metal support behind me.

Our bare chests press together. My nipples harden, pressed against the hard lines of his torso.

I can’t get enough of this man. I wrap my arms around him, bringing him closer. Then my legs, because closer still isn’t close enough.

The dull buzz adds a layer to this I’ve never experienced before. It radiates my skin, makes me come alive. I want more, I want everything.

I drag my hands along his chest then moan into his mouth, until he swallows down my noises.

At some point, we lose our pants and end up on the floor.

I am so stimulated, sensitive in ways I didn’t think possible. I throw my head back. I cry so loud my throat is hoarse.

I can’t even manage Neil anymore, nor Sir.

All I can say are a litany of Gods, and Yes, and Oh, Ah, Please!

Neil must be there right along with me. His movements are frantic now. He’s moving at a pace and with a desperation I haven’t seen in him since before he took on the silver.

We’re making each other feral, I think. And it’s fucking perfect.

I struggle and pull forward his name now. I want him to know, as we cross over the edge together, that I am here with him in this moment.

If nothing else…

If never again…

This moment is ours.

“Neil!!”