Possession (The Mate Games 3)

“He’s miserable without you. Haven’t you noticed? He’s even more of a fucking asshole than usual.”

“I couldn’t tell. He’s been too busy icing me out.”

“Stop allowing him to get away with this half-in, half-out bullshit.”

“I’m not allowing him—”

“By not confronting him, that’s exactly what you’re doing, and you know it. You’re just too scared to force the issue.”

The wolf made an excellent point. I was scared. Avoiding the conversation meant I could go on pretending everything was fine, that I wasn’t losing him.

With Alek missing and everything going tits up with Noah, my heart couldn’t take another blow. Even if things with Noah were mended, Kingston had been my only constant lately. Who the hell would have thunk it?

“You know what? You’re right. He needs to make a choice. Me or... whatever the fuck he thinks he’s protecting.”

“That’s my girl. Did I mention it makes me hard when you let your badass come out to play?”

I should have taken a moment to let his willingness to share wash over me. After all, this was Kingston. Possessive, protective, Lord of the Assholes Kingston. But his actions were proof positive our group wasn’t complete without Caleb.

Kingston gripped the nape of my neck and tugged me hard against him. “Now go get your wayward priest, but I expect you to get back in bed after. I woke up spooning Thorne and never want to do that again. You’re the middle of the sandwich.”

I snorted at the mental image. “Tell me you were the little spoon.”

He growled at me. “When am I ever the little spoon?”

I lifted on my tiptoes, licking him as I whispered. “When I command it, pet.”

“Jesus, are you trying to kill me? Get out of here before I take you up against this wall, Sunshine. Can’t send you off to another man with my cum dripping down your... wait... that’s not a bad idea.”

I backed away slowly, knowing if he made good on his promise, there was no way I’d make it to Caleb before the sun came up. “Save that thought, wolf. I have to see my priest about my impure thoughts.”

The church smelledof frankincense and beeswax, lit only by the multitude of candles placed in sconces along every wall. I found Caleb immediately. He was standing behind the altar, his head bowed low over the holy objects spread out across it. His lips moved in softly murmured words I couldn’t make out, and when he finished, his entire body stiffened, nostrils flaring, eyes snapping open.

He pinned me with a hard stare, burning straight through me without saying a single word. I knew what he wanted as soon as his focus shifted to the pews.

Sit.Be still, he seemed to command.

“Okay, Daddy,” I mouthed, mostly to myself, but Caleb’s sharp inhale told me he caught it anyway.

Knowing I’d probably already pushed my luck by coming here again and intruding on his sacred moment, I moved as quietly as possible as I slipped into the pew he’d indicated.

Not being Catholic, I had absolutely no idea what he was doing when he raised a flat white disc and mouthed something in Latin. There was a certain drama to his performance as he moved seamlessly from one part to the next, almost as if he was dancing. It was oddly intimate, watching him this way. He looked both peaceful and tortured. Like it hurt him to participate in this rite, but it hurt more not to.

When he knelt and bowed his head, I had to fight the urge to suck in a breath at the beauty of him giving himself over to his God. I had ruined this for him. I shouldn’t be here.

Standing, I turned to leave him alone with his principles.

“Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Fallon?” he breathed, his mouth at my ear, one hand wrapped around my throat, holding me in place. Despite the strength of his hold, I couldn’t help but notice the slight tremor in his grip.

A shiver raced down my spine. God, I was such a romance novel cliché. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are. You interrupted my Mass. You don’t get to leave now that I’m done.”

I swallowed, loving the way his hand tightened and exerted just a bit more pressure.

“I can feel your pulse fluttering. Erratic and frantic. Are you afraid of me now? After everything?”

“I’m lots of things when it comes to you, but afraid isn’t one of them.”