Page 56 of Brass
“Yes.” His hand grips the back of my neck, tilting my head so I meet his eyes. They’re darker than I’ve ever seen, pupils blown wide. “You can. You will. I’m not letting you stop here.”
His hips roll, slow at first, deliberate, each thrust dragging against swollen, over-sensitized nerves. My breath catches, teetering between pleasure and pain. “I can’t,” I whisper.
“You will.” His thumb presses down on my clit again, merciless, steady. “Because I’m telling you to. Because you respond to my voice, my touch, my command. Come again, Celeste. Do it for me. Show me how well you obey…”
Every word is a trigger, a hook sinking deep, pulling me back toward the precipice I thought I’d already fallen from. My body betrays me, shuddering, building, cresting again in spite of the overstimulation.
The second orgasm tears through me, sharper, rawer, leaving me sobbing into his shoulder as my entire body clenches and convulses. His grip is unyielding, holding me through it, forcing me to ride every last wave until I’m shaking uncontrollably in his arms.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my temple, voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanted. That’s what I’ll always want. You, giving me everything you didn’t think you had.”
I can’t answer. I can barely breathe. But the truth is undeniable. I’ve never come twice in such quick succession. Never known my body could. And the terrifying, exhilarating part is—if he asked again, in that voice, with that command, my body would obey.
“That was…” I struggle to find words adequate to the experience.
“A very good morning,” he finishes, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I laugh softly against his shoulder. “Definitely better than arguing.”
“You know,” he says after a moment, “this changes nothing between us.”
I tense slightly, preparing for the withdrawal I initially feared.
He must feel it, because he continues with a clarification, “I mean, it changes nothing about our situation. You’re still in danger. We still need to reach Seattle. I still need to keep you safe.”
“And how do we do that now?” I ask, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him properly.
A hint of that commanding smile touches his lips. “The same way we’ve been doing it—you follow my orders and commands.”
“Orders and commands?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Only now,” he adds, fingers sliding up to trace the curve of my breast, “you follow them in bed as well as out of it. Your safety still depends on it.” His tone is lighthearted but carries an undertone of seriousness that sends a shiver through me.
“So I’m at your mercy?” I ask, matching his playful tone while acknowledging the truth beneath it.
“Completely.” He rolls suddenly, pinning me beneath him, his weight a delicious pressure. “But as you’ve discovered, my mercy can be quite…” he pauses, pressing a kiss to my collarbone, “satisfying.”
I laugh, the sound turning to a soft gasp as his mouth travels lower. “And when we reach Seattle? What happens then?”
He lifts his head, expression turning more serious. “Things will change. You’ll meet the team. We’ll figure out what to do about the flash drive, about Obsidian and Phoenix. Our operating parameters will shift.”
“And this?” I gesture between us. “Will that shift too?”
His eyes hold mine, startlingly direct. “That depends on what this is.”
It’s a fair question; one I don’t have a clear answer for. Five days ago, I might have dismissed it as proximity, adrenaline, the unique circumstances that threw us together. Now, after last night, after waking in his arms, I’m not so certain.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s something I wasn’t looking for. Something I don’t want to pretend isn’t there.”
His hand slides to the back of my neck, grip firm but gentle. “I can’t promise to stop being vigilant. To stop prioritizing your safety above comfort or connection or anything else.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“What are you asking for, then?”
I lean into his touch, closing the distance between us. “Just this. Honesty. Presence. No more sleeping on the floor.”
His eyes search mine, looking for deception, for manipulation, finding none. Whatever he sees makes his decision, because the next moment he’s pulling me to him, mouth claiming mine in a kiss that’s both question and answer.
