CHAPTER 25 – Grace
The cold had slipped past my layers of clothing, through my skin and was now settled deep into my bones. It had been thirteen hours since the electricity to the Barracks had been cut, and the small backup generator could only be accessed from outside the building, which was presently being watched by at least fifteen of Jebediah’s well-armed militia. The claustrophobia from the walls surrounding me was taking a toll, and I could scarcely imagine how those who had been trapped in the Underworld longer than me were coping. It was dark, cold, gloomy. Moral was low. People were scared, frustrated, anxious, no matter how hard Ink and I tried to appease their fears.
On top of the crushing feeling the walls in the basement were giving me, and the heavy dread hanging in the air from the people of Liberty, I was worried about my two friends, Skye and Hadley. Axel had found Skye and Ink disappeared to go talk with her forever ago. I wanted to join him, but I’d been sitting with Hadley at the time, torn with conflict, my two friends both needing me. And my beautiful Hadley, she had been reduced to a listless form, unable or unwilling to utter a single word, her gaze set on the clean, white ceiling. It was the empty look in those eyes that smothered me with hopelessness.
Hopelessness that was quickly replaced by anger, a deep, churning fury that began deep inside, causing my hands to tremble with an almost obsessive need to seek revenge. Clenching those shaking fists together I glanced around the cold basement. Ink’s room had been swiftly overrun, so I’d dragged my blankets down here. The chemical smell from the NIM had all but gone, or I’d become used to it. The basement was a large, windowless space which four of my entire cabins could easily fill, but it was currently stuffed to bursting point with boxes and supplies for Jebediah’s drug production. Two long tables were scattered with mixing and measuring equipment, along with jars and cans of liquid and what I could only describe as black goo, and sealed bags of powder.
Four of Ink’s soldiers had gathered on the opposite side of the room, closest to the door which was currently barricaded with boxes. From the heavy breathing and occasional snores, they had easily fallen asleep. Nobody else wanted to come down here, fearing the room was contaminated. The three floors above me were so crammed with people I’d decided to take my chances with the toxic air.
A shadow dropping into a crouching figure in front of me made me jump, as I let out a muffled squeal.
“Sorry, I thought you’d be asleep by now,” Ink whispered, his voice sounding like a booming echo in the quiet space.
“You scared the crap out of me,” I whisper hissed.
“Sorry, buttercup… like I said, I thought you’d be asleep.”
“I can’t sleep,” I quietly confessed. Beyond exhaustion, my body was ready and willing to crash. My mind however ticked over with endless ‘what ifs.’
What if Jebediah gained access to the barracks?
What if he decided, to hell with the NIM and set us alight?
What if we starved to death in here?
Ink reached forward and ran a tattooed finger down my cheek.
“How’s your head?” I asked, concerned about the blow to the head he took at Jebediah’s gladiator fight which now seemed like forever ago.
“Ash stitched me up and gave me something for my headache. I’m fine.”
“Seems like you’ve had a concussion since the moment Jebediah arrived.”
Ink snorted. “Feels like I’ve had a concussion since he arrived.”
A shiver stole through my body again, the tremors making me feel sick to the stomach.
“You’re cold.”
“I guess my chattering teeth gave me away.”
The corner of his mouth tilted up and my entire body sighed with how handsome that smirk made him look. How can one simple twitch of the mouth be so appealing? Rather than pulling his hand away from my cheek, he brought it up to my beanie and tugged it off. Then his hand fell to the zipper on my heavy jacket, and he began tugging it downward.
“What part of ‘I’m freezing’ don’t you understand?” The thought of leaving my warm layers made my shivering insides tremble harder, but I didn’t move to stop him as he pulled my jacket off. In fact, I leaned forward to help him.
“What’s the best way to fight the cold?”
Watching Ink unzip his own jacket, my brain stuttered to a halt. The long sleeve thermal he wore beneath it was pulled tight across his chest and before I could truly appreciate the way the fabric hugged his body, he pulled it off. Smooth, warm, inked flesh filled my vision, and my fingers twitched with the need to touch.
“Buttercup, concentrate.”
“What?” I asked, my gaze glued to this impressive pectoral muscles and the hard dips and curves of his abdomen.
“What’s the best way to fight the cold?”
Remembering his question, I answered as I watched him rise to his feet and begin releasing the button on his cargo pants. “Body heat.”
His grin was sublime. “Get out of those clothes, baby.”
Standing with much less grace than Ink had, I tugged off my own tee shirt followed by thermal and finally jeans, standing before him in nothing more than my underwear, my body convulsing with tremors from the cold. Ink pulled aside the two thick blankets that rested on the bed of cardboard I’d made from two boxes. He unfolded another blanket I hadn’t notice him carry in and spread it out on top of our makeshift bed then added his sleeping bag before layering it with the two original blankets.
“Lay down.”
I did as instructed, watching him move around the room with a familiar fluid grace, in nothing but his boxer briefs and inked flesh. Finally, he stretched out beside me, pulling the blankets up over our bodies as he tugged my back against the heated warmth of his chest. The resounding sigh that spilled from my lips made him chuckle.
“You’re like my own personal stove heater.”
Ink’s hand wrapped around my waist and tried to pull me closer. There really wasn’t any way we could be any closer unless our bodies merged and became one. With his breath in my ear, my skin would have broken out in goose pimples if it weren’t already covered in them from the cold.
“Better?” he murmured.
“Oh, yeah,” I confessed, pushing my buttocks back into the quickly hardening length of his manhood.
“Baby,” he groaned, nipping my ear. “You feel too damn good.”
“You feel too damn warm,” I murmured.
His large hand which had been resting on my stomach slid downward, slipping beneath the fabric of my panties, a finger sliding between my folds.
“Ink…” my whisper was part plea and part apprehension. I was nervous he was touching me like this when there were other people in the room, but at the same time, I was ravenous for his touch. Having him with me like this reminded me that we were more than just Grace and Ink. We were more than just two souls drifting in a lost and broken world. We were one in this moment, our hearts beating for each other, our lives meaning nothing without the other. It allowed me to let go of my worries and enjoy the pleasure his touch brought me. As his fingers expertly strummed my clit, his engorged cock thrust gently into the crease of my ass, the only barrier between us being the thin fabric of our underwear. A soft groan reverberated in my chest when one long finger entered me, dragging the wetness from my need for him back up to the tiny bundle of nerves that set my body alight.
“Shhh, baby, I got you.”
Ink continued to play with my body, stroking the ice from my veins and replacing that cold with scorching heat. “I love the feel of you,” he whispered, and those words pushed me a little higher, edging me toward an eruption of sensation only these moments could bring. When his fingers slipped away, I growled in frustration. Ink awkwardly nudged his boxers down his thighs while encouraging me to lose my own underwear with a tug on the fabric. Once divested of the barriers between us, he lifted my leg from his position behind me and began to rub the mushroomed head of his cock through my wet folds.
“This right here,” he growled low, his gruff voice nothing but a bare whisper. “This feels like heaven.” Ever so slowly, the pace torturous and smooth, he entered me. “This feels like home.” Push and retreat, push and retreat, push and retreat. Ink gradually consumed me, his thick length burying deep inside until I was deliciously full. The walls of my pussy throbbed around him, and it was Ink’s turn to growl softly in my ear. “This is my home.” His arm wrapped around my body, one hand resting over my breast. “This beating heart… ” he began as his hips withdrew and returned with short, sharp thrusts, “… is my home.” When my heavy breathing turned to needy whimpers, Ink moved his hand up to cover my mouth, gently but firmly holding the noise inside of me. “You are mine, Gracie, my home, and I’m not sharing you with anybody. Not even those sweet little moans you’re spilling for me.”
I had no idea if the soldiers on the other side of the room could hear us, but I was beyond the point of caring. When Ink shifted slightly to bury himself deeper, he hit a spot which had my body jolt with pleasure. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I let Ink gently pound into my body, working his magic and making every worry and fear disappear, leaving behind nothing but this moment and every covetous touch and softly murmured word.
Too quickly, I was pushed into that place where sight and sound vanished, and all I could feel was Ink, and his possession of my body as the walls of my pussy throbbed greedily at his cock, trying to draw him deeper.
“Fucking home,” Ink grunted as he stroked himself deep and held himself still, emptying inside of me.
We lay like that together for the longest time, gasping for air and still joined intimately, though Ink did slip his hand away from my mouth. As he softened inside of me, he finally slipped free with a disappointed groan. The warmth of his body left me for a moment as he rolled away, only to come back seconds later with a soft, damp cloth that he slipped between my legs.
“You came prepared,” I noted, embarrassed by his attentiveness while wondering where the rag had come from. God, I hoped it wasn’t one used to clean up toxic NIM messes.
“I was hopeful,” he answered, before gently rubbing the cloth between my legs and tossing it aside. Then he helped locate my panties which were at the bottom of our makeshift bed before settling me against his body once more.
“This is the second time I’ve taken you without protection,” Ink whispered, his fingers dancing across the flesh of my stomach. “Right now, you could be growing our baby inside here.”
The thought tumbled into my mind, blossoming from simple words to images and visions. Having a child with Ink, a family, it was a dream I’d never dared hope for. It had always been something so far removed from my reality that I couldn’t bear to torture myself with wanting for something which would never happen. The possibility now both terrified and thrilled me. Bringing a child into this life that currently had an uncertain future seemed crazy, and yet it unfurled a new need to fight. A need to protect a baby, to protect mine and Ink’s future, to take back what Jebediah had taken from us. Linking my hand on top of Ink’s, I pressed his warm hand harder against my warm flesh.
“It only makes sense that our home be filled with babies,” I whispered. “A beautiful little boy with dark blue eyes and wild dark hair.”
Ink rolled me to my back and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Or a little girl with long dark hair and green eyes, little freckles sprinkled over her nose and cheeks.”
“You really want that?” I dared ask.
“With you, buttercup, I want it all.”
How did I end up here, with this man loving me and wanting babies with me? My life had done a full spin, picking me up from a world of wishes and heartbreak and dropping me back into the sweetest reality.
“Are you still cold?”
I snorted and tangled my legs with Ink’s.
“Do I feel cold to you?”
“You feel soft.” Pressing a kiss to my shoulder, he murmured, “You taste sweet.” He was already beginning to harden against my hip again. “It’s torture knowing you taste so sweet everywhere.”
My legs instinctively squeezed his thigh as his hands petted me, dipping to the damp juncture where he’d been only moments before.
Relaxing beside me, Ink sighed. “I’m going to save that treat for later, though. Because as much as I want to lose myself to your heavenly body, outside this basement is hell, and we need to deal with that sooner rather than later.”
His words were like a bucket of cold water to my burning libido, shaking me back to reality.
Sighing I lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Later, then.”
“When all this is over, I’m going to keep you in bed for a solid week,” Ink promised, kissing my neck.
When all this is over—it almost seemed like an impossible dream.