CLEO

AGE 18

IT'S 4 AM.

I wished Brookes a happy birthday and then lied about having a headache. I escaped to the quiet of my bedroom right as the party was reaching the height of its chaos. My brother waved me away without a backward glance.

I've been lying in bed for almost an hour now.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Metallica pounds between my ears, but, for once, music does nothing to settle my nerves. I remove my headphones and listen carefully to what's going on downstairs. The noise is starting to die down. Anticipation twists into apprehension.

I know I asked Dax to be discreet, but where the hell is he?

Did he change his mind?

What if he's having too much fun with Brookes and forgot about m—

That's when I see the door to my bedroom swing open. The sudden sliver of light stings my eyes, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. Relief and joy surge when he appears in the doorway. I drink in the sight of him. He cuts a tall, dark figure in the shadows. The unmistakable black hair. The broad shoulders. The tapered waist. The long legs. He steps inside. The door closes and locks. Darkness floods my room again. His footsteps are quiet on the hardwood.

I'm mesmerized by his movements.

He's here.

He's here.

He's really here.

Dax has been to my room plenty of times during the day. But never at night. His presence feels forbidden. When his feet slow to a standstill, the edge of my mattress dips. He climbs into bed and cages me with his body.

With my pulse thrumming away, I breathe out softly, "You finally came."

It's criminal how much I want this boy.

"I was going insane downstairs," he murmurs, "knowing you were up here."

For a guy who can't stand being touched, he certainly doesn't seem to mind my closeness right now. I revel in the hard, intimate edges of his muscled frame pressing against my softer curves. I never knew how perfectly our bodies fit together. It makes me breathless and lightheaded, all of a sudden. We haven't held each other like this before. Definitely not in my bed.

"I was afraid that you might not come."

"I would've done anything to get to you tonight."

"Really?"

"I never want to leave."

Strong arms tighten around me, and I fucking melt into the solid warmth of his chest.

I find myself pleading, "Then stay with me."

Our eyes lock in the dark as he teases, "Forever?"

"Why not?"

I've never felt this way about anyone, and I don't know what to do with all of these chaotic emotions simmering inside my chest.

"Brookes will pop a vein if he finds me in your bed."

"Where's that idiot, anyway?" I chuckle and wrap my arms around him so he can't get away. "Is my brother still downstairs?"

Dax's lips brush against my cheek, and I feel him smile against my skin. "I don't think so. Last time I saw him, he came up with one of the cheerleaders.

I curse under my breath. "Does that mean he's in his room?"

Brookes' room is right next to mine, and the walls are pretty thin.

Dax nods while fumbling with my bra clasp. I don't protest when his hand trails up my stomach, claiming my breasts. Neither of us waste any time picking up where we left off during those seven minutes in the closet. He teases my nipples until they tighten into hard, little, needy points. The other hand traces the edge of my underwear before slipping inside. His palm feels hot and heavenly against my pussy. He uses only one finger to massage my slit, up and down, up and down, until I start rocking against him. Even though I've been fooling around with him, we're still virgins. I'm shocked by his boldness. I'm shocked by mine as well.

I whimper, "Oh, God..."

His hand stills.

Blushing a little, I demand, "What happened to the boy who hated being touched?"

"You happened."

His answer makes me weak. I can't help but smile like an idiot. "How bad do you want me, baby?"

Shamelessly, Dax rubs his hardness along my thigh. "You make me beg for things I never knew I needed."

My gaze snaps downward. Both eyes widen. There's a massive tent at his crotch. I gasp, "Jesus."

He winces. "It's your fault."

"Then let me kiss it," I suggest softly, "and make it better."

Eagerly, I shuffle down his body. My hand trails down his stomach to tug at the waistband of his jeans. I've never sucked off a guy before, nor have I ever wanted to stick anyone's dick down my throat, but the thought of taking Dax in my mouth actually makes me even wetter.

But he foils my plan, catching me by the waist to haul me back up to his face. "Not yet."

Slightly disappointed that we're eye level again, I mumble, "No?"

"Don't touch me," Dax begs, "until I say so."

This again?

More than anything right now, I want my hands all over Dax, but I know how much this means to him, so I raise my arms up, resting both hands on my pillow, locking them in place, unmoving, so I can hand over every ounce of control he needs to feel safe with me.

I murmur, "Happy, now?"

"The happiest." His hand begins to move again between my legs, teasing and stroking me everywhere.

I exhale in delight. Dax proceeds to trace my folds and learns my creases and keeps dipping in and out of my tightness, all the while studying my every moan and gasp when he asks, "Is this... okay?"

Growing hotter and slicker, I rub against him and sigh, "It's more than okay."

It feels like paradise.

Sometimes, his touch seems a little clumsy and unsure, but his gentleness and determination more than makes up for his inexperience. Just knowing that he's trying so hard to please me is such a fucking turn-on.

With a sense of urgency, Dax unzips his jeans and tugs down my panties. One by one, our clothes disappear. He slips inside me once more to coat his finger before finding my clit, drawing slow, slippery circles around the nub until I can't hold it in anymore. The pleasure is too intense, too concentrated, too perfect.

A helpless moan escapes me. I want to move my hands so badly. A desperate urge to make him feel as good as he's making me feel rises like an unstoppable tide. "Please, Dax, just let me touch you..."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm having too much fun."

I glare at him. Dax smirks back with a look of pure male satisfaction. I don't think he likes being in charge of my body.

He fucking loves it.

With dark eyes, he drawls huskily, "Look at you."

"What about me?"

Dax leans even closer as one hand ghosts up my arm to catch both of my wrists. Pressing down, he locks my hands in place. My fingers twitch and strain. I can't even budge, let alone break free from his grip. Son of a bitch. He's strong. I'm completely at his mercy, we both know it, and, for some reason, I don't hate it. Not at all. I trust Dax. He'd never hurt me. There's a twisted sort of freedom in giving myself so wholly to another. I'll be Dax's little fuck doll for as long as he wants.

"We've barely gotten started here, and you're already moaning and whimpering like such a needy thing."

I scowl even though he's not wrong. "You want a goddamn medal or something?"

"I don't need a medal. I need my fingers in your cunt."

"Oh, fuck."

That sounds divine.

"May I?"

Heat pulses between my legs like a second heartbeat. "Yes. Please."

"Then keep that pretty mouth shut," he murmurs, glancing at the wall I share with Brookes, "unless you want your brother to hear us."

Tensing up at the thought of my brother charging in here with my dad's shot gun, I immediately lower my voice. "Okay, okay, I'll be quiet."

But my promise doesn't even last for one second when he shoves two fingers into my pussy, fucking me hard, and I gasp loud enough to wake up the whole house. Bliss sings through my veins even while I panic at the possibility of getting caught. The tension that's been building around us, at last, ignites. My walls begin to tighten and pulsate, clenching around his hand like a throbbing vice. Pleasure twines up and down my spine as he finger-fucks me into oblivion.

Feeling like I'm about to plunge over the edge of something, I pant, "Dax, I—"

"I thought I told you to shut up?"

He crushes my lips with his mouth, effectively shutting me up, and I welcome his kiss with another needy moan. My fingers tangle into his dark hair, pulling his face closer to deepen our kiss, but he doesn't let me. Without warning, Dax breaks away and disappears under the sheets. I feel robbed until I sense his lips brush against my inner thighs. I realize he's going to make it up to me in a big way. He nips lightly at my flesh.

Pleasure bursts through my core when his mouth finally settles over my cunt.

He traces the delicate folds along my crease with the tip of his tongue. Up, up, up. Down, down, down. Back up again. He lingers over my clit, again, using his wicked tongue to flick and swirl and tease. His fingers are still pumping in and out of me. My eyes roll heavenward, and, soon, my pussy turns into throbbing, soaking mess. Every one of my senses is spinning out of control, so I grab onto his scalp, anchoring myself to him as I grind myself on his mouth.

Dax lifts his head up for a second, and his voice, dark and soft, breaks through my cloud of euphoria, "Ready for me, baby?"

I nod in a blissed out daze.

His fingers are no longer enough. My pussy is desperate for his cock. I feel him probing at my entrance. With strained grunt, Dax pushes in, and my eyes round out at the size of him. I'm beyond wet and ready at this point, but his dick still feels too fucking hard and too fucking big for me. The stretch is almost too much to bear. He rocks his hips, slowly, steadily, inching his length deeper and deeper into me. Pain cuts into my pleasure.

After a while, I can't help but wince. "Are you in all the way?"

He glances down with a sheepish look. "Not exactly."

I gulp. "Halfway, then?"

"We barely got the tip in."

"Shit."

He's going to split me in two.

"Does it hurt?" Dax asks with genuine concern in his eyes. "I can pull out."

It hurts for sure, but I don't mind, and I definitely don't want him to stop.

I smile bravely. "Keep going. It's okay. I'll be okay."

"You sure?"

"If someone's gonna make me bleed," I whisper, "I only want it to be you."

Right then, I feel his cock swell and grow impossibly harder inside me.

His nostrils flare. "You wanna bleed for me, baby?"

"More than anything."

"When you say shit like that, I don't know if I can hold back."

"Then don't. I need you to wreck me."

His gaze catches mine. My breath hitches. For a mesmerizing moment, our thoughts become one. He's ready for me to be his first, and I'm ready for him to be mine. With a powerful thrust, he punches through the final barrier and breaks me. Instantly, the sharp ache overwhelms everything else. It feels like his dick is ripping me apart. Tears sting my eyes. But they're happy tears. I welcome the pain. It means I've given this part of myself to Dax, forever, and never have I felt more alive.

Dax stills inside me. "We good?"

Sweat slicks his skin. Every muscle in his body is taut, almost shaking, with restraint. I can tell how much Dax wants to fuck me, but he's doing his damnedest not to hurt me any more than necessary. His arms come around my body, holding me close, as he rains light, tender kisses all over my face.

The pain fades a little. "Yes."

"Can I... move?"

I murmur against his cheek, "Only if you let me touch you."

His dick pulses within me as he grumbles, "You're not playing fair."

"That's because I play to win."

"Fine," he surrenders, swelling and throbbing in me even more, "go ahead and touch me."

"Really?" I prompt with a hopeful expression.

"Yeah."

Tentatively, I place a hand on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat pound against my palm. "This doesn't bother you?"

"Not anymore."

"What... changed?"

A beat goes by before he reveals, "Everything that used to be wrong feels so fucking right. But only when I'm with you, Cleo. Only with you."

Heart brimming with joy, my arms come around him at last. Both legs wrap around his waist. I've waited so long for this moment. We begin to move together. He drives into me over and over again. My hips snap up to meet his thrusts.

"Fuck," he groans, "you're so tight. So perfect. I-It feels too good. I'm gonna—"

I'm close, but he's closer. Muscles straining, he rams into me all the way as his cock swells in my pussy. Dax keeps grinding against me as though he can't get close enough. I can feel every twitch and every pulse as he comes inside me. He trembles from the force of his release. With a soft cry, I join him soon after. When, at last, our ecstasy fades, his larger body melts over mine as though he's boneless. He's careful not to crush me, though. My eyes drift shut. In a blissful, glowing daze, I comb my fingers through his hair and kiss his neck.

"Just give me a minute," he mumbles. "We're not done."

We're... not?

My eyes pop open in surprise. "What?"

Even after coming so hard, his dick still feels solid inside me. It doesn't take long for Dax to start thrusting again. His come mixes with my excitement, and the wetness of it all is gushing down my thighs. Pleasure builds once more. From there, I come undone for the second time that night, and, this time, the intensity of my climax wrenches the air from my lungs.

Breathless and mindless, I can't even scream.

I can only feel.

His thundering heartbeat.

My cunt milking his cock.

His heat consuming me.

My pure, unadulterated joy.

I'm lost in this beautiful, endless delirium that he's given me. Through the rising tides, Dax holds me. He holds me like I'm his most precious possession. Like he'll protect me forever. Waves of pleasure continue to wash over me, drowning me, until I'm completely his, and he's utterly mine.

***

Even with both eyes tightly shut, I sense it's far better to stay here—in my memories—than awaken to reality. My subconscious is trying to achieve what I've failed to do in the real world. I'm conjuring him in this sad, wretched way because it's the only way I can reach him. I need him now more than ever. Our baby needs him, too.

With every fiber of my being, I wish he was still willing to rush toward us, fueled by the same breathtaking ferocity that existed back when him and I were just two fools tumbling into love. In my memories, Dax still loves me. He still wants to save me, and I never want this heartbreaking dream to end.

A quiet, steady flow of beep-beep-beeps rouses me from this dark, sweet abyss.

The moment consciousness returns, I feel weak and achy all over. Gritting my teeth, I fight through the pain and summon what's left of my strength. My fingers twitch slightly. A protective instinct urges my hand to move over my belly, desperate to shield the precious life growing inside me.

For some reason, though, my muscles don't budge.

I flex my fingers and meet resistance. Dismay cuts through my groggy daze. I think someone's clinging to me, holding my hand in place. His fingers feel smooth and cool on my skin. Not rough or calloused or warm. This perfectly manicured hand belongs to someone who has never been forced to fight for his life or work himself to the bone. There's no need to open my eyes to know that it's not Dax holding my hand.

Go choke on your ring.

A painful ache hollows out my chest.

I'm blocking you.

Something wet trails down my face, tasting of salt when it reaches my lips.

Don't contact me again.

How long have I been out?

My eyes flutter open. Piercing fluorescent lights sting my vision. I blink away the tears. Once I regain my bearings, panic sets in. I realize that I'm lying down. But not on the floor of my bathroom.

Where the hell am I?

I woke up like this once. Unable to move. Feeling disoriented as fuck. Not knowing how I got there. For a second, I'm taken back to the night of my sixteenth birthday. Wincing, I look around, half-expecting to be in my childhood bedroom. But I'm not at home. I glance down. I'm wearing a paper-thin gown on a reclining medical bed. There are a bunch of wires crawling all over me.

Fuck.

Why am I in a hospital?

Weakly, I turn my head, and my gaze finds a pair of dark brown eyes. I don't know how long he's been standing here. Dread sinks to my core.

"Cleo, you're awake. Thank God."

His voice sounds warm, gentle, and full of worry, but there's murder in his eyes. Fear pierces my heart.

He knows.

Standing beside us is someone I've never seen before. She's wearing blue scrubs. A stethoscope hangs around her neck. Relief eases some of my anxiety. I'm glad she's here.

Trav won't kill me with a witness in the room.

I smile at him while I retract my hand his grasp. "I'm sorry if I made you worry—"

A sudden cramp hits low in my belly, stealing my breath like a punch to the gut. Holy shit. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. Immediately, my hands shoot to my stomach, cradling my womb.

Distress rises in my throat, almost strangling me. I feel an unpleasant wetness trickling between my thighs. A mother's worst nightmare dances along edge of my mind. I can't even let myself entertain the possibility.

I demand in a weak, rasping voice, "Why am I here?"

Trying not to lose my shit, I tell myself, Bitch, you haven't eaten a full meal in days. That must be why I fainted earlier. That's why I'm in a hospital right now.

My baby is fine.

My baby is fine.

My baby is fine.

But, then, grief flashes across Trav's handsome face, the doctor shoots us a look of sympathy, and everything inside me shatters when he whispers, "I'm so sorry, but the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat. We lost the baby, sweetheart."

Despair rips from my throat.

I weep.

Everything that used to be wrong feels so fucking right.

I wail.

But only when I'm with you, Cleo.

I unravel.

Only with you.

I break.

Where are you, Dax?

This loss is too much to bear alone.