Setting Fire to the Stars (a MM Sci-Fi Romance)

Chapter 13: Capture

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Lauren
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What. The. Fuck?

What the actual fuck had just happened?

I did that with Peter Ducane. My bully. The terrorist who pretty much ruined my life for the last several years, the very man responsible for the darkest moment of my life, had been practically humping me like a wild fucking animal. I let him. And I liked it.

And it was good. So good.

Warmth crept up my neck while I grazed the side of my throat where Peter had kissed. I couldn't help but grin like the idiot I was as my fingers prodded a tender spot, positive I was going to have a massive hickey there tomorrow. I should have felt disgusted but instead that little bit of knowledge brought forth a rush of satisfaction.

Had I officially lost my marbles? After everything, everything he'd done, how could I have liked it? But God, all I wanted in that moment was more of him, not less.

Dozens of questions rang through my mind on how we could have gotten to this point. I had always thought that Peter was straight. He had never shown an interest in men before. Since when did he start liking guys? No, it didn't matter what Peter's sexual preference was. All that mattered was that on some level, he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. At least physically. We'd been a breath away from kissing and doing . . . other intimate things. Things I had no experience with. What even were we? Certainly not dating. Was he hoping for a purely physical relationship? The thought turned my stomach and left a nasty taste in my mouth.

Unlike Peter, who I was sure was more than well versed in the art of sex, I still had yet to lose my virginity. I'd had a couple of boyfriends, but they barely stuck around long enough to realize that I wasn't gonna be an easy lay. I wanted something deeper than a quick fuck in the gym locker room. But Peter desired me. My nightmare wanted me, and that had to count for something. And against all odds, against every logical-fucking-braincell that told me I shouldn't, I wanted him too.

If Whitt hadn't interrupted us, how far would we have gone? Would it have just ended with a little messing around or . . . something more?

Swallowing thickly, I recounted the feel of Peter's clothed cock. His size was . . . intimidating, to say the least. My jumbled thoughts spiraled out of control, replaying the ecstasy of when our hips met, the brand of his gentle hand lingering on my throat. What had just transpired between us had been . . . hot. Okay, fine, insanely hot.

Burying my blazing face in the plush pillow, I groaned, the memory of his hard length still fresh in my mind. Dammit, the bastard was huge, annoyingly so. Of-fucking-course he was. It wasn't enough that he was hot as sin, of course he had to have a giant dick, too. How the heck did he even walk around with that thing? It was like a third leg. How was that even going to fit—

Whoa. Down, boy. Down.

Regardless of how hot and bothered I might have been, we couldn't rush into . . . whatever this was. We had to talk. I may crave him like a man thirsting for water in the desert, but I had still not forgiven him for all his years of abuse. And we needed to talk about the rabbit.

Shit, just thinking about it brought forth a wave of overwhelming nausea. I curled deeper into the blankets, wanting them to swallow me whole before the ice trapped within my ugly heart chilled my insides and dragged me back into the cold abyss. Living with such overbearing anxiety wasn't easy, but I realized that to feel absolutely nothing at all was infinitely worse.