Page 52 of The Bound Zodiac

I reached between us and pushed his pants down, freeing him, and then maneuvered out of my own. The first touch of skin against skin made us both freeze. He was hot and hard and thick in my hand, and the way his hips jerked at the contact told me everything I needed to know about how long he’d been waiting for this.

I positioned myself over him, one hand braced on his chest, the other guiding him to where I needed him. His eyes were locked on mine, and when I sank down onto him, the sound he made was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard.

His head fell back against the pillow, throat working, his jaw clenched. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, and I felt him shaking beneath me, probably with restraint. I held still. Let him feel me all around him. Let him adjust to the sensation, to the heat and the tightness.

“Jupiter—” His voice cracked. “Fuck. Fuck.”

I smiled down at him. “Well you don’t have to be so demanding about it.”

I started to move, rolling my hips in a circle that dragged him against every sensitive spot inside me, and the sound he made lit me up from the inside. I set a rhythm, taking my time with every stroke, and watched his face the entire time.

His eyes never left mine. His hands never left my hips. Every gasp, every groan, every broken whisper of my name built until he was writhing beneath me, his hips lifting to meet mine, his fingers digging into my skin.

The bond was wide open between us. I could feel everything. Every spike of pleasure, every shudder, every moment of oh god this is real that flashed through his mind. I could feel the grief still there, still present, but pushed to the side by something brighter and hotter. I could feel the moment he started to lose control.

“Jupiter—I’m—I can’t—” His hips were stuttering, rhythm falling apart, and his hands were everywhere. On my hips, my waist, my breasts, my face, like he couldn’t decide which part of me he needed to touch most.

“Come inside me, James,” I whispered. I leaned down and kissed him, and rolled my hips hard, grinding down and pressing him as deep as he could go, and that was it. He shattered.

His whole body went rigid, back arching off the mattress, his mouth breaking away from mine to gasp for air, and I felt him come inside me in long, pulsing waves that made the bond scream with white-hot pleasure.

One second I was on top, riding the last pulses of his orgasm, and the next his hands were on my waist and the world flipped. He rolled me beneath him so fast my head spun, and then he was above me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his arms braced on either side of my head.

He pulled out just enough and then slammed back in, and the sound I made wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t dignified in the slightest. “That’s right, love, moan for me,” he breathed against my ear, but he was grinning wickedly.

He fucked me hard, his hips driving into mine with a force that had the headboard hitting the stone wall behind it. His hand found my hip, fingers digging in, tilting me up to meet him, and the angle changed and I saw stars.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Every nerve in my body was screaming, pleasure building so fast it was dizzying. His pace never faltered, never slowed, and I was clawing at his shoulders, his back, my nails dragging across skin and scar tissue alike, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t stop, just kept driving into me.

How the hell did he know how to do this? He was supposed to be the damn virgin. He was supposed to be the one who needed guidance, who needed me to show him, and instead he was fucking me into his mattress like he’d been doing it his whole life, like his body had been waiting for this exact moment.

My orgasm tore through me so violently that my vision whited out, my back arching off the bed, and I bit down on his palm hard enough to taste blood just as he covered my scream. He didn’t pull his hand away, just kept moving, kept thrusting, riding me through it, and I came apart in waves that seemed to go on forever.

Jamie followed a few seconds later, his rhythm breaking, his hips stuttering, and I felt him come again inside me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, a groan vibrating through his chest and into mine.

For a long time, neither of us moved. The room was dark and quiet except for the sound of our breathing. The headboard had stopped knocking against the wall. The sheets were twisted around our legs.

Jamie shifted and pulled out carefully, and I hissed at the sensitivity. He collapsed beside me, one arm thrown over his eyes, his chest heaving. I turned my head on the pillow and looked at him. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, lips swollen. His green eyes were half-lidded and dazed, staring at the ceiling like he was trying to figure out what planet he was on.

And then he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, and his free hand came up to cup my face. His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone.

“I never thought I’d be able to love someone again. After everything… I thought that part of me was dead.” His thumb kept moving, tracing the curve of my jaw, the corner of my mouth. “I was wrong. Sometimes I feel fucking insane over you.”

He leaned down and kissed me. Slowly and deeply, like he had all the time in the world. Like he was memorizing the shape of my mouth with his own. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and his breath was warm on my lips.

“I love you too, James.” I whispered.

And I meant it. I really fucking meant it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ERIS

I lay on my back, staring at the water-stained ceiling of my new room, and tried not to think about Jupiter Black. Or, if we’re being honest, I tried not to think about Jupiter Black the way I usually thought about her, which was shirtless, in my lap, her hair spilling down her back, her mouth open and begging for my cock. It was a losing battle. It always was.

The bed was too soft. Imperium’s beds had proper mattresses, unlike Dominion’s cinderblock slabs, and you’d think that would be an upgrade. Instead, I just drowned in it, restless, sheets tangled around my legs, mind racing.

Having five more people’s conscious thoughts racing around in my head would take some getting used to, but I was decent at blocking them out. We were getting stronger, all of us. Every time we stepped into the combat arena, we moved more fluidly. The bond was like a new muscle, sore and clumsy at first, but getting leaner, meaner, hungrier with every fight. As much as I loathed to admit it, these guys knew what they were doing.