I could still feel his hands tracing my body, every part of my skin tingling and reacting to his touch, his ragged breath brushing against my neck, and his moist kisses tracing my collarbones, causing a wave of pleasure.

Eric took me to his room, he laid me on his bed, and he took off his jacket, revealing his black t-shirt. Still intrigued and intimidated by the intensity of his gaze on me, he bent down to delicately remove the heels that Tiana had insisted I buy.

He left me barefoot and, without breaking eye contact, he ran his large hands over my legs to my thighs, tracing my hips, and holding me by the waist to lay me on his comfortable and cushioned bed. He had put an end to my torment and connected our lips with sensuality, need, and eroticism.

That night became one I could never forget, and even though there was no sex, it made me feel fulfilled and desirous; his caresses made me experience a myriad of emotions and feelings.

The big lump on his pants made me see that I wanted the same thing but he stood firm, taking my wrists refusing to let me touch him and instead his left knee pressed on my sex giving me one of the best feelings that in my sixteen years I had experienced. He made me tremble and constantly move my hips over him being the one who gave me pleasure while drowning my groans through his kisses watching me tremble beneath him.

I wanted it, I needed it in a surprising way and he knew it, he knew that I had his power and that only he could get me that way. I was so sure, I thought it would happen, I really thought that tonight Eric would make me his and with him I would lose my virginity but it didn't happen; it stopped as soon as I tried to remove his shirt and with his agitated breath I took of the cheek to join our foreheads.

"Are you aware of how many rules we're breaking, Grace?" He asked through his whisper.

I nodded biting my lower lip.

"My post is going to hell and you don't complete the initiation. And right now I don't give a shit and I could make you mine at this precise moment."

I keep a moment of silence.

"And although age never had a value in Dauntless, this is different I can not do without feeling a fucking pedophile."

Thrown onto the pavement in a violent manner, his comment knocked me off the cloud I was on while cursing my age and his strange moral behavior. He didn't want to have sex because he wanted to avoid feeling like a pedophile but seconds before I let his hands explore my body with extreme confidence and need. I did not know what to say or feel, I simply nodded and whispered because of the shame of being rejected again.

"I guess I should go."

"Don't go," he pleaded. "Sleep here, I'll make sure they don't notice your absence."

I complied, accepted, and here I am, just awake, with heavy eyes feeling the softness of the mattress and the comfort of the pillow with Eric's arm weight over my waist, listening to his calm breathing against my shoulder.

I had just started to notice it, he was asleep behind me, dangerously close, hugging me.
He had lent me a shirt, which was huge on me, and I slept peacefully by his side. He hadn't hugged me or even gotten close until now, upon waking up, making it clear that it happened during the night.

I loved his essence, his masculine cologne infused in his mattress and clothes, allowing me to become intoxicated by such richness.
I wanted to turn around, to see him sleeping, it would definitely be a dream to see him with his eyes closed, resting peacefully. However, everything went to hell when the alarm on his watch started ringing repeatedly, causing him to slowly stir and move his arm away from me.

He turned off the alarm and let out a loud yawn, sending shivers down my spine and making me release a smile. It was definitely worth turning around as I spun on the bed and found Eric shirtless, sitting on the edge, which took me back to cloud nine. I felt my cheeks flush as my eyes roamed over his torso and his large biceps, noticing several blond hairs on his chest. He had his phone in his hand, looking at the screen with utter tranquility and his eyes still sleepy; it was a rather tender scene, worthy of appreciation with a smile. He turned to look at me and smiled without showing his teeth, then returned his gaze to the screen, typing.

"Good morning," he murmured with his husky, just-awoken voice.

"Good morning," I whispered back.

"Do you prefer hotcakes or an omelet? They'll bring us breakfast along with coffee."

I couldn't help but smile, surprised by his invitation to have breakfast together in his room after sharing the bed. Was this happening for real?

"Pancakes, please."I said, my cheeks flushing again.

He nodded and continued typing for a few seconds, then sighed, raised an eyebrow, and set his phone aside on the nightstand. He covered his legs with the blanket and approached me, taking me by the waist and pulling me to his chest, then gently taking my cheek.

He kissed me slowly, his right arm wrapping around my neck and back, while his other hand gripped my leg, caressing it up to my buttock. He pulled away, looking at me with amusement, while I let out a small laugh.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" he asked teasingly.

"Really?" I raised my eyebrows in surprise, my cheeks reddening even more.

"Yeah, I could swear you said my name with such desire," he said, holding back a laugh and biting his lip.

"You're joking, im—"

The noise that erupted came from his phone, making me stop mid-sentence. Eric rolled his eyes and reached for his phone, glancing at it for a second before answering the call and placing it against his ear.

"Speak." he answered bitterly.

He fell silent, listening with a slightly furrowed brow. His right shoulder was leaning against the mattress with me between his arm, still holding me close as he listened.

"Who?" he asked, then nodded and clenched his jaw. "Fine, keep an eye on him and deny everything. I'm on my way." He hung up, releasing a sigh filled with desperation.

He stepped away from me, getting up from the bed and leaving me with an excellent view of his torso. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"We'll have to postpone breakfast. You can have it, eat, and save mine in the fridge," he commented casually, approaching the closet and pulling out a set of black clothes.

He left the room, walking down the hallway, probably heading to the bathroom. I furrowed my brow and sat confused on the mattress, waiting for him to come out and find out what was going on.

It didn't even take two minutes before he reappeared, now wearing the outfit. He left his pajama pants on the laundry basket.

"Is something wrong?" I asked intrigued.

"I'm just going to save our skins, Grace." he sighed, grabbing a vest. "I'll even out the score with that damn initiate." he sighed in annoyance. "The bastard." he muttered, adjusting his vest.

"Why? What happened?"

He was ready, and he turned to look at me before leaving. "Ian is talking to Freya, accusing us of having a 'relationship.' And I'm not worried about Freya, what worries me is if any of Ronald's allies overhear. They'll have a perfect deal, I can already imagine it; they'll want Mike in the first place in exchange for not spreading it and getting you disqualified. Can you lock the door before you leave?" He was upset but trying to contain himself and not take it out on me.

I nodded, and he walked to the door to leave the room.

               ************************

I would have liked to enjoy the hotcakes in peace and relaxation, sitting at the table with Eric beside me as we ate an incredible dish that, truth be told, was delicious. It was evident that even the chefs respected Eric, and everything that came for him was of high quality.

I ended up sitting at the kitchen island, eating three hotcakes and a coffee. I stored Eric's omelet in the refrigerator as he asked, while I couldn't stop thinking.

I felt guilty, knowing I should be at the office, denying everything Ian said despite it being true. We broke several rules and deserved punishment; I was aware of that. And even though being divergent, Truth wasn't part of my abilities. So, I planned to deny everything to the authorities and hope that Max or Freya would support us. After all, I'm Freya's daughter. There would be preference, right?

Maybe Eric is changing me after all. I'm absorbing that malice that distinguishes him. In the end, after these two stages, I'll end up being a mini-Eric without friends and ambitious. Or maybe it's part of me. After all, Freya admitted that Norman and I had that in common: ambition and wanting to stand out.

I had left Eric's kitchen spotless and returned to last night's dress. I left his room with my heels in hand, making sure to close the door tightly. In my room, I took a shower and changed clothes, taking advantage of everyone being at breakfast.

Now I was walking straight to the well, waiting for a sign, any news, whether good or bad. I needed to know if I was already disqualified or if Ian had been brutally beaten by Eric. Both options were terrifying, and I couldn't classify which was good and which was bad.

The situation with Ian had gotten out of hand. I didn't think something like this would happen, and from my perspective, I never played him. He knew what was going on.

"Grace!" the redhead's shout to my left snapped me out of my thoughts. I didn't even need to reach her; Tiana was already in front of me, grabbing my shoulders with wide, concerned eyes.

"This is the second time I haven't seen you after a party night, and you don't come back to sleep," she scolded.

"Sorry," I grimaced.

"We saw Four, and he said that Freya sent for you to talk about the Genesis issue and that for safety, you would stay in another room," she explained. "How are you? Did you see that crazy woman?"

I furrowed my brow, not understanding. Did Eric make up that version so he could sleep in his room without suspicion?

"Um, yeah," I cleared my throat, lying is easy, but not when you have to improvise. "She apologized, and everything's sorted out."

The redhead blinked several times and then shook her head slowly. "Uh-huh, sure," she huffed. "Now tell me the truth," she crossed her arms.

I closed my eyes and sighed, then opened them with a grimace, looking at my ex-Erudite friend. She's so intelligent; it's hard to lie to her without her noticing.

I looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then took her arm and walked to a more secluded spot.

"I was with Eric," I replied. "And before you ask, no, there was no sex. Just a couple of very intense kisses, and we slept in his bed."

"Oh God," she covered her mouth with both hands. "Wait," she frowned, moving her hands away. "When was this? You were dancing, and then I lost sight of you," she asked, confused.

"I was dancing when Ian saved me from a very drunk guy. We left the bar, and as expected, he and I argued. It got pretty heated; he tried to call me a slut, and I hit him. Then he kissed me, and I hit him again. Eric arrived and hit him, even threatened him and forbade him from getting near me. Ian left, and I went with Eric."

"Ian?" she tangled her fingers in her reddish hair in surprise. "That's why he had a big bruise on his eye. He's been ignoring us today; he didn't even want to talk to Jim," she looked down at the floor. "Oh no," she looked up. "About three hours ago, I saw him talking to Freya."

"Yeah, there's another problem. They informed Eric that Ian is accusing us of being in a relationship, and he went to sort out the problem. I still don't know anything, and I came to the well to look for a miracle. I need to know what happened."

"This is madness, Grace. Why do you have to fall in love with the cruelest leader in all of Dauntless and who breaks hearts in the process?"

"I'm not in love with—"

"Oh, please, Grace. You may fool everyone, even him, but you don't fool me. You're completely in love," she crossed her arms. "But we'll leave that topic for later. We need to find Ian and shut that man's mouth."

I nodded as she took my arm and dragged me towards the well. We both hurried, scanning all possible sides in search of Ian or any involved parties.

I spotted Four from afar down the hallway; we locked eyes, and he shook his head disapprovingly before continuing his walk.

"Four!" I shouted.

He stopped, not turning around. Instead, he raised his head and shrugged slowly, indicating he was sighing and waiting for me to approach him.

Intrigued and fearful, I approached him.

"You know what happened, right?" I asked as I looked at his face.

"Yeah, Eric implicated me," he crossed his arms. "Damn it, Grace. I asked you to be careful and discreet," he shook his head.

"But what happened?"

"Ronald doesn't know. I had to sedate Ian before Eric killed him. Raphael is with him; I hid him so Eric couldn't find him," he sighed.

"Oh God."I whispered, grimacing.

"Why wasn't I there? How was it resolved? I thought Ian would testify."

"Freya agreed to ignore it, she asked me to correct Ian's behavior and keep his mouth shut. In the meantime, you can do something useful and convince Eric not to kill him." he replied.

I nodded, swallowing the bitter lump in my throat, and turned my gaze to the wall. Four managed to intimidate me, make me feel inferior and guilty.

"Why did Ian do that?" I whispered.

He sighed and shook his head. "Because he's angry. You rejected him and chose the man who's least suitable for you. It's ironic, you and Eric managed to corrupt him."

"I didn't want this to happen, Four." I said, looking up at his annoyance.

"But it happened, and now I have to try to save a kid before he decides to jump off the abyss. I distanced myself from what you and Eric have because I wasn't involved in any aspect. But now Eric dragged me into his problem and used Andrea to do it. I want you to understand something, Grace. Take this as a last chance because if they try to use what I have with Andrea again, I won't hesitate just because you're involved." he ran his fingers through his scalp in frustration. "Listen carefully, last warning, Eric is not to be trifled with, especially if you're divergent." He walked past me, but not before forcefully bumping his shoulder into mine due to the tension, although it didn't move me much.

What mess did I get myself into?

                ************************

I had a pressure in my chest, a feeling of sadness and self-hatred, questioning my mistakes, I shouldn't have accepted Ian's kiss in the first place, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Now I felt ostracized from my circle of friends, rejected by those who once gave me a smile.

I returned to Tiana after my unpleasant conversation with Four. She was with Jim, chatting, and when he saw me, I never expected to receive that kind of look from him. His jaw hardened, and his eyes narrowed; it was a look of hatred, resentment, and disdain.

"When your friend leaves, I'll continue telling you, okay? See you in the dorm," he turned around and left.

Tiana was in shock, unsure how to react. She came to me and hugged me; I knew that the rejection from him and from Ian would affect me.

"Go to him, he'll need you more. I'm okay. If you can, tell me how he's doing later." I whispered in her ear.

And so she did, she trotted off to him, leaving me alone in the middle of the well. My spine tingled, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

I always considered myself strong, independent, someone who doesn't seek emotional support when everything goes wrong. In Amity, most of the time, I was alone when Norman attacked me, and I survived. It's ironic; at this moment, I need emotional support, someone to help me with this and tell me that everything will be okay, to tell me that I'm human and make mistakes, that someday everything will be resolved, and I'll learn from it.

And here I am, in front of the door I've seen more than once, indecisive whether I should knock and seek comfort from the only person who wouldn't hate me right now. But would he support me? Or even help me distract myself?

I knocked three times and lowered my hand as my adrenaline surged.

"Whoever it is, I'm not in the mood." Eric's growl came from inside.

If he wasn't in the mood, it's probably because Four hid Ian and didn't allow him to be killed, because now Freya thinks we're in a relationship, and because his position in leadership was crumbling. Eric is known for being controlling, a leader who likes to have power over others, and this situation got out of hand for him, causing understandable pressure and displeasure.

I want to go in, but I fear he'll kick me out, that his anger will be greater, and he'll see me in the same way Jim and Ian did. I took a deep breath, gathering all the air in my lungs to muster courage, mentally nodding to myself. I exhaled slowly and grabbed the doorknob, praying it would be open; I don't know if there's a God, but I'm grateful the door was open.

The lights were off in his room, the only illumination coming from the moonlight and the outdoor lighting, allowing me to see Eric's silhouette. He had turned the sofa to enjoy a pleasant view of the landscape that was once Chicago.

He had his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa, with his index finger pressed against his temple. I closed the door behind me, making a bit of noise to let him know I didn't care much for his warning.

"I've given too many chances today, leave," he growled, not turning to see who had invaded his home.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were," I murmured apologetically.

He turned, glancing at me from the corner of his eye before returning his gaze to the view in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, this time without a growl.

I walked toward him cautiously, taking slow and careful steps.

"I heard about what happened; Four told me," I replied.

I stood behind him, noticing how his back tensed when I mentioned Four.

"Really? Did he also tell you that Freya wants to see you?" he asked.

"No, he didn't mention that," I whispered, placing my hand delicately on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. "He asked me to convince you not to kill Ian."

He chuckled. "Do you know where he is? I promise not to kill him, just break a few bone." he said, clenching his hand with annoyance and cracking his fingers.

"He didn't tell me," I grimaced. "How serious was it for you to want to kill him?"

He was really tense; just by touching his shoulder, I could feel the hardness of his neck and shoulder. Afraid of what might happen, I placed both hands on his shoulders and squeezed, giving him a slow massage, hoping for a sign of acceptance, and it came. He lowered his hand, placing both elbows on the sofa while tilting his head to one side, enjoying the massage, allowing me to continue as Joanna once taught me.

I remembered being with Joanna when she was massaging a faction member who injured his arm while harvesting carrots. She explained, and I occasionally helped; it's just a matter of massaging the muscle and releasing the tension.

"I don't want to talk about it; he's an idiot and won't get away from me so easily," he avoided while enjoying the massage.

I continued to his neck, sliding my fingers over his skin and massaging his muscle. He was very tense, but little by little, I managed to relieve the tension, especially since he was consenting.

"Freya decided to overlook what happened, and Ronald didn't find out. Regardless, it turned out well, don't you think?" I murmured, concentrating on what I was doing.

"Do you believe that? Freya wants to talk to you; she's going to force you to stay away from me, she'll tell you the same thing she told me. Last chance, or else she'll talk to Max," he sighed. "You weren't there; Ian went crazy, insulted you in such a disgusting way, and that's why Freya prioritized you."

"I'm sorry...none of this would have happened if only I..."

"No." he interrupted. "That guy has a problem. Regardless of how you acted or could have acted, he shouldn't have spoken like that. He needs to learn that Dauntless won't tolerate it anymore, it's not a 'wait and see' situation. Even if they believed him before because of his faction, it's not like that anymore." he sighed, shaking his head in denial. "Come here." he ordered.

He took my hand, pulling me towards him. I had to go around the sofa to face him. He raised his hand to my arm, making me lean in as our lips met in a sensual and passionate kiss. His tongue traced my lip, asking for entry, and I complied, immersing ourselves in a game of tongues and constant nibbling with desire.

"Kneel," he whispered between our lips.

My feet trembled at his command, but I complied, kneeling on the carpet, with his legs in front of me, anticipating what was to come next. His hand cradled my cheek, caressing it slowly as his thumb passed over my lower lip.

He remained seated on the sofa, towering over me, his dilated pupils showing desire and lust, radiating satisfaction at being the one to have me kneeling before him. My sex throbbed with desire under his gaze, and he quickly glanced downwards, signaling what he wanted me to do.

I concealed the trembling of my hands as they reached for his pants, undoing the leather belt and unbuttoning them. He opened his legs, slightly leaning his torso forward to give me access to the growing bulge. I was nervous as I lifted his black shirt, revealing his incredible abdomen. I unbuttoned his jeans, feeling his intense gaze on me, watching every move I made. I unzipped them, revealing the black boxer briefs with gray elastic and his member placed to the side.

I had two things clear about what I was about to do:

1. My teeth don't exist.
2. The more saliva, the better.

And I could thank those tips to the truthers who spoke shamelessly in school a year ago. I didn't listen to them out of morbid curiosity, but because I'm usually observant and they didn't cooperate with discretion.

I unmasked my leader's manly limb with the help of his pelvis as I lifted it slightly so that he could lower his underwear. And as a bounce shot up letting me see it; its length and width was to be feared, part of its head was pink with veins leaping around its neck. Never in my life have I seen one except for the school where they showed an animated penis in biology with parts that complement it.

My hand circled its limb making it erect even more managing to feel the hardness.
I was very nervous, afraid to do something wrong.

Where is that feeling of pedophilia
he alleged?

I was about to put it in my mouth, place my torso between his legs bowing a little, however his hand stopped me with a caress on my cheek going through my neck surrounding his hand around it giving him a slight squeeze.

"Have you done this before?" His question came out through a hoarse voice. "With words, Grace." demanded giving him a grip to my neck in the form of scolding.

"No." I whispered.

He nodded slowly. "Do you want to do it?"

"Yes," I whispered again, wanting to disguise my nerves and the pleasure building up inside me, my sex pulsing, demanding attention.

He smiled, his hand rising to trace my lower lip with his thumb before pushing it inside. "Suck it." he ordered.

I let the thumb go completely in, I wrapped it between my tongue and palate hiding my teeth, covered it with saliva and sucked his finger while he pulled it out and put it back in.
He nodded again. "Don't use your teeth, put it in your mouth and enjoy it." I take his finger out of my mouth. "Suck it."

I let myself go and without waiting another moment I took it from the base placing between my wet lips the tip of his penis introducing it gradually. One thing I was sure of was that I wouldn't fit everything, it was huge.

I could hear a sigh from him, looking up at him as he introduced as much as his member could.
He had his mouth slightly open, looking at me like I never thought he would, with desire. When I was full I let my saliva spit over its length making the head back and back forward. With my hand on his limb I began to make continuous movements from top to bottom noticing how the leather of his penis slipped according to my movements.

My head bowed back, cradling between my lips the tip of his limb and sucking it making his throat let loose a gasp. I pulled it out completely by lambing it along as if it were a paddle, let my saliva soak it completely as I pumped with my hand quickly coming up my head and closing my eyes. It was silent but I could hear him moaning with pleasure that drowned it, so I introduced the tip again and suck his penis, making him moan again.

I liked it, his pleasure was my pleasure, to please him in this way and knowing that I am doing well allowed me to lose my fear and continue doing a good oral sex streamlining my movements. My saliva was a good lube and my hand slipped easily over his penis so as my tongue circled and licked each limb my hand quickly went up and down.

With my available hand and no fear of success, I pull out his perfectly shaved testicles massaging them making his hands take my hair like an improvised ponytail and without warning sank my head making me feel the tip of his limb
in my throat.

I stayed strong, enlarged my throat and relaxed to avoid an arcade while he handled my movements and my head, he pulled my hair ponytail and sank it back while my tears came out of my eyes continuously from the violence that was being generated in this oral sex.
Despite the damage he did to me and the effort, I did not take away and less I stopped him, I knew that I wanted it to end, that I would enjoy and please him as he wanted.

Looking up at him vulnerable for the first time, he had a slightly furrowed brow and his mouth was open with groans and inconsistencies.
I knew he was going to come, and I didn't know what to do, should I swallow it?

I turned my head away letting me see his spit-filled penis, run my tongue down my lower lip watching his cum fall out of his pants, then an act of adrenaline and without consulting him better with myself I put the tip of his penis in my mouth making the rest of his semen fall on my tongue while I sucked it and received it gladly.

The white viscous liquid made contact with my taste buds, it was a mixture of flavors that I never tried in my life, a sweet combination with salty was what I swallowed making Eric see me with surprise and satisfaction. Its flavor was addictive, totally pleasant.

He stopped taking my hair and stroked his thumb on my cheek. He looked at me with intensity, agitated and relaxed, as if he had run a marathon. He let out a nosy laugh while denying.

"Damn, Grace. You're perfect."