“Strip down, Jakey. It’s gonna be one big group hug tonight.”
“Mmm…just the way I like it.”
“I told you it wasn’t Rhiannon.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know that now. You get what game Rutherglen’s playing?”
“Of course, but it’s way too transparent for him. There’s something else at play here.”
“Something to think about in the morning.”
I heard the rustles of clothes, felt the bodies settle around me, and something inside me rang, clear as a bell as I did so. All was right with the world, so I dropped down deeper into sleep.
11
I woke to the feeling of being stroked.
Sometimes non-sexual touching can be the most luxurious thing. Being stroked with no expectation, not in preparation for sex, not because you paid someone to work on your sore muscles, just that endless swooping feeling of skin moving against your skin, drawing your attention to all the points of your body in equal order of importance. Last night had destroyed me, tore me apart, and shoved The Changelings inside me, and now I was being slowly remade.
By them.
I opened my eyes a crack, regretting it when the glare stabbed at my eyes. Photophobia. I’d always thought it strangely funny, that a photographer could experience periods of intolerance to light, because what was a camera but a way to freeze the light and how it fell over a subject? I groaned, and an answering set of firm fingers dug into my shoulders, another massaging my head.
But I didn’t hurt. I didn’t want to open my eyes, because the great black beast of thoughts that had been sitting there, waiting for me to wake up was rising as I did.
“Can I…?”
That was Jake. His name instantly brought him to mind, imagining how he’d be crouched beside me, body taut, cock rigid, sitting on his hands and waiting, looking for permission to do all the things he wanted to do. Waiting for someone to make him.
No, don’t think about that, I thought. I didn’t want that, or to consider what Billy had laid out on the table last night. Focus on your body.
But to focus on my body was to open myself up to all of its sensory input. The feel of their hands upon me was one thing, but that which they omitted was another. My nipples, that they carefully skated by, had pulled up tight in the cool air and in sympathy with the rest of my body, my cunt slick between my thighs.
“Not yet, Jakey.” That was Liam.
“But she smells so fucking good.”
“She is good, and she’s ours, if we don’t fuck this up. Last night, it…” That was Johnno.
“There are no words for last night.” That was…Billy? It kinda sounded like him, but there was a strange cast to his voice. Was that…happiness? Satisfaction? I’d need to open my eyes to find out, and I refused to do that.
“She’s hurting.” That was Marlow. “No, not hurting… Something.”
“You can feel that? We need to get you out from under Rutherglen. Get you with us full time.”
“I…I’d never considered that a possibility.”
“We’re making a break for it. We won’t be leaving you behind.”
“Come here, Jake.”
That was a different voice, one I hadn’t heard yet. Lucas, it had to be Lucas. There was a shuffle on the bed, and then the sound of bodies moving against each other, then a long groan.
“No, no, I need to—”
Jake’s voice was all need and desperation, but Lucas evidently didn’t care for his protests. I heard the rhythmic rasp of someone getting someone off.
So my eyes flicked open.
They scared the shit out of me when I did—Billy, Liam and Johnno were looking down at me like I was made of glass and diamonds both. Like I was the most precious thing in the world. Where were those terrible mocking visages from their before party hijinks at Jen’s estate? This was much harder to look upon. They looked so fucking young, no cynicism or sneers, no hard looks. I was glad my eyes ached, it felt like if I looked at them for any length of time, I’d see all the way down to their very souls.
I scrambled back on the bed, slamming into a hard body, looking up to see Marlow. Marlow—he was safe and good. I folded myself up and into his arms, and they locked around me.
“It’s OK,” he hummed, low like you would for a child, over and over.
“Kira…”
My voice was a strangled invocation as Jake’s body flexed against the great wall of Lucas’s, his eyes boring into mine as the other man caressed him. The Viking man pushed his face into Jake’s hair, his neck, working his hand with a startling regularity along the redhead’s aching cock. But Jake kept calling my name in the place of groans of pleasure, his hip muscles thrown into sharp relief as he thrust himself into Lucas’ strokes. Marlow stroked his hand down the side of my shaking arms as I watched, unable to look away, unable to stop the answering flood of heat inside me as their beautifully savage display played out.
I wanted. I wanted to push Lucas back, to take over, to let his hand keep tormenting the other man, place my mouth over the scarlet crown, and capture every damn bit of the pre-ejaculate that leaked out in a steady stream. He looked up, staring me down as well. I wanted his hand on the back of my neck as I did so, making me hold still and take every hot blast of Jake’s cum as it shot out.
Something he must have been able to sense somehow. Marlow patted my hair as the other man stared. Then I saw the crackle of lightning flicker across his eyes.
I was up and off the bed in the time it took to take another breath, the guy’s cries starting as soon as the drowsy haze they all seemed to be riding right now dissipated. I snatched up bags randomly and dove for the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it.
“Kira! Kira! Open up!”
I heard the door handle twist, shuddered back as they hammered on the door, shrinking back until I ended up in the shower cubicle. A shower, yes, that’s a good plan, I decided once I saw the door was going to hold. Muffled conversations took place as I turned on the water, some loud and angry, some measured and calm, but I just grabbed the soap and went to work.
“Kira?”
Jen? I was dressed now, feeling like I’d put my skin back on when I’d done so. I was a lot less raw. But the sound of my friend’s voice was a welcome one, a lifeline thrown out in all this crazy. We usually hung out or talked every day, and I’d been drowning in dick since I’d transitioned. I looked into the mirror, at the girl with the big, scared, angry eyes. I was a shitty, shitty friend.
But that wasn’t something I needed to continue. I put my hand on the door and opened it to quite an audience.
This is all so flattering, I thought for a split second. The Changelings and Marlow were lined up like an honour guard as I came out, looks of concern on some of their faces, a whole lot less openness on all of them. I’d done that, I realised, my eyes dropping down, unable to see the confirmation of it. I didn’t know what I thought about all of this, but hurting other people wasn’t part of my plan.
But what was?
“Kira? Everything OK?” Jen said, coming forward, Vervain at her shoulder.
I’d intended to say something to the guys, placate them, ask for some space, or something to try and keep the pain out of their eyes until I was ready to deal with whatever this was, but I didn’t get far with that. Tears pricked at my eyes at the sound of my friend’s voice, and I launched myself at her, wrapping my arms around that tiny, tough little frame as hers did the same. Exactly what I needed.