“Even if we agree to the truce,” my cousin says, “Mia is off the table.”
“That’s not for you to decide, is it?” Landon smiles, and I swear to fuck, he’s the most provocative asshole on this planet. And here I thought Kill was dire.
Jeremy keeps a strong grip on my shoulder and even that can’t keep me in place. “She already told you no.”
“I can work with a no.” Landon walks to my sister, passes her a velvet box, and has the audacity to whisper in her ear.
I push Jeremy away and shove Landon back so hard, he falls against his siblings. Bran staggers to keep his brother upright and I curse under my breath.
Tonight is just a fucked-up fucking case of fucking fuckery! Why did he have to be here?
This is why I didn’t want to fucking see him.
Fuck!!
“I’ll take that as you saying yes to my offer. As for the Mia issue, I’ll leave that to her. Just know that I won’t take lightly to any censorship or attempts to keep me away from her. You can torture me if you fancy. I’ll also leave my door open in case you want to kidnap me and exact revenge for past travesties, so let me know your plan. Or don’t. I’m open to surprises.” Landon glides his attention to Kill. “You and I are even, considering the whole Glyn situation.”
My cousin’s face hardens and he steps forward, but Glyn and Bran tug their brother back.
“I’ll be out of your hair,” he calls. “For some reason, it feels like I’m not welcome here. I wonder why.”
“You motherfucking—”
I lunge at him, but I stop when Bran mouths, “Please.”
Fucking hell.
I let Jeremy and the others pull me back as I watch the three of them going down the stairs.
Bran glances at me one last time, his shoulders crowding with tension, his eyes full of anguish.
I just found out my baby sister is getting in bed with the enemy in every sense of the word, but the part that makes me lose my fucking mind is the damn pain in Bran’s eyes.
* * *
Can we talk?
We can meet briefly in the penthouse. You don’t have to spend the night if you don’t want to.
You looked really on edge. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Can I see you?
So you’re not going to apologize for punching me? Not that I’m cross with you or anything.
Okay, I am but not about the punch. I know you didn’t do that on purpose, but you’re definitely ignoring me on purpose.
About Lan and Mia, I didn’t want to keep that a secret, but I knew you’d throw a fit if you found out, and, well… I was right, wasn’t I?
If it’s of any consolation, I think Lan is really serious about her. He’s never been serious about anyone in his entire life. He’s never had a relationship or fought for a girl’s affection. Can you believe he asked me to teach him how to practice empathy just to win her over? That’s the first time he’s ever asked me anything and I’m loving it. We got close this week, and I’m really enjoying our time together.
I even showed him a few of the paintings I keep a secret and he said he’s proud of me. Can you believe it? Lan being PROUD of me? The last time he said that was when we were young… Well, I might have played a part in how we grew apart, but anyway, he said he knows the right agent for me, and it’s HIS agent. He introduced us the other day and I really like her better than the one Mum has been trying to make me sign with. She understands my vision so well, and maybe soon, I’ll stop keeping those paintings a secret. I’m starting to have hopes and it’s because of none other than Lan. Isn’t that crazy?
Though I’m not in a particularly good mood.
Hint. It’s because of you.
I kind of miss you.
Okay, that was a lie. I REALLY miss you.
Nikolai, please. Don’t do this.
You’re clearly reading my texts, but you can’t spare me a few words?
You know what? Forget it.
Those werethe texts Bran sent me over the past week, and yes, I read every one of them, but I couldn’t reply.
If I did, I’d get disastrously violent. My racing thoughts and fucked-up head haven’t calmed down yet. For the first time ever, I’ve spent two weeks on a high. A whole two fucking weeks.
This is not the state I want to talk to him in.
But against my better judgment—which is MIA lately—I’m outside the Elites’ mansion, where I used to wait for him every morning.
I lean against my bike that’s camouflaged by a bent tree and stare at the reason why I rode all the way here.
Despite the fact that I don’t reply to his texts, I actually follow his every move, whether through his or his friends’ social media.
An hour ago, he posted a picture of Remington clutching him in a chokehold as both of them laughed. They were fucking laughing.
What made it worse was the caption. Late-night chats with Remi are the best. I’m so thankful to have you @lord-remington-astor.
And then Remington’s reply. Cheers, mate. You know you’re my fave. Don’t tell my spawn.
I wasn’t thinking when I came here. Something I haven’t been doing enough of.
Sometimes, I believe the best solution for this whole fuckery is to go into the Elites’ mansion, kill Landon, then kidnap his brother, but something tells me that won’t go over well.
As if that dilemma wasn’t enough, he had to post that picture with Remington. In his damn bedroom.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Is that what ‘Forget it’ means? Has he already found a replacement and tossed me aside?
Not in his goddamn dreams.
My fingers are stiff as I type.
Me
Come outside.
Bran
Look who decided to finally acknowledge my existence.
Come fucking outside, Brandon.
Where? Please don’t tell me you’re here.
Outside. Now.
Fine. You’re such a joy today.
I narrow my eyes at the phone. Of course I’m not a joy compared to that clown Remington.
Bran even once said, “He’s just so funny.” He fucking isn’t.
My muscles are about to snap from how wound up and tight they feel. Two weeks on a high is just too long and I don’t sense any signs of coming down anytime soon.
I took the pills the night I punched Bran, because I couldn’t trust myself anymore. I had to admit that I was losing control.
They didn’t help. Unless nearly fucking drowning in the pool is considered help.
Still, I took three of them earlier so that I won’t do something I’ll regret. The thought of hurting him fucking terrifies me. But I don’t think they’re working. The urge to punch someone is greater than I can contain.
I should’ve stayed away.
I really shouldn’t be here—
My heart rate picks up when I catch a glimpse of Bran striding hurriedly toward me. He knows the exact place where I’ll be waiting.
God-fucking-damn-it. I’ve missed him and his sophisticated presence. The plain black shorts and the gray T-shirt do nothing to hide his fit physique.
His hair is in a bit of a mess, falling haphazardly over his forehead, making him look more human instead of his uptight side.
He comes to a halt in front of me and his expression slowly shifts from anger to…softness? Since when does he soften?
“We could’ve met in the penthouse. You didn’t have to come here. Not that I didn’t want you to be here…”
I stare at him and keep my mouth shut. I don’t trust myself not to snap right now.
“Nikolai, listen.” He rounds the bike and stands in front of me. “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about. I actually spoke to my friends and Glyn and—”
“Shut the fuck up.” I grab him by the throat and shove him against the tree’s trunk. “I’m not here to talk.”
I crash my lips to his and he releases a startled sound, but I swallow it the fuck up. He tastes of lemon, ginger, and honey.
He tastes like my imminent downfall.
I thrust my tongue against his, slurping, tugging, and biting until he moans.
He moans for me as if he’s been fucking waiting for this. As if he didn’t already replace me with someone else.
“Niko…wait.” He wrenches his lips away.
“I’m done waiting.” I chase his mouth, then claim it again. He pulls on my hair, but I feel nothing. No pain. No thoughts.
Just fucking blind possessiveness.
Twisted desire.
The need to fucking own him claws inside me like a beast.
I yank my lips away from his and whirl him around, then shove his face against the tree, my fingers wrapping around his nape. I tug down his shorts, revealing his ass.
“Nikolai…?”
My lips line up with his ear and I breathe so harshly, it’s nearly a growl. “Tell me to stop. This is your only chance to do so. Tell me you don’t want me anymore. Say it and I’ll go.”
“It’s not that…” His choppy exhales echo in the air like my own aphrodisiac.
“If it’s not that, shut your fucking mouth.”
“What’s wrong…?”
“Shut it.” I pull out my cock that’s been hard since I saw him, and spit on my hand. “No lube. This will have to do.”
He releases an affirmative sound, but it ends with a grunt when I push past the tight ring of muscle.
My body that’s been uncharacteristically dead for the past two weeks roars back to life when I’m sheathed inside him.
“Fuck,” I growl, my teeth biting down on the hollow of his throat.
Bran turns his face to glimpse at me and I don’t like it.
I don’t like how he looks at me with those soft eyes as if he missed me. As if he didn’t fucking replace me.
So I thrust harder, reach deeper, go faster.
“Niko…” he groans when I hit that spot with my piercings. “Fuck…we’re in public.”
“And yet you’re so hard you’re humping the tree. You get hot and bothered about the prospect of being caught.”
“Jesus…mmfuck…I missed the way you fuck me.”
“Shut the fuck up.” This time, I wrap my fingers around his mouth. I don’t want to hear his voice. I don’t want to hear what he has to say and I don’t want to get lost in him again.
I’m just proving a point. The fact that he belongs to me and only me. The fact that he still only wants me and will never fucking replace me.
“You’re mine, Brandon. Fucking mine. If you think there’s another option out there for you other than me, I have a news flash for you.” I bite the shell of his ear and he moans, the sound muffled by my hand. “You fucking don’t. Just know that I’ll slaughter anyone you let near you and fuck you in their blood.”
I squeeze his cock and jerk him fast and rough, matching the rhythm of my cock in his ass. He thrusts his hips forward then back, slamming his ass against my groin over and over until his madness mirrors mine. The slaps of flesh against flesh echo in the air as I pound him, rough and unhinged.
Fucking fuck.
He comes all over my hand, groaning and trying to say something, but my grip on his mouth doesn’t allow him to.
Even after he comes, he continues to ride my cock, jerking back and forth, milking me, dragging the orgasm from somewhere deep in my fucked-up soul instead of my body.
I come deep in him and he moans, his teeth sinking into my fingers, and his body shudders beneath mine.
If I didn’t know it before, then I’m sure now. I’ll never enjoy fucking again if it isn’t with him.
He fucking broke me.
Literally and figuratively.
My mind is still a goddamn mess even as I pull out of him. My cum trickles down his balls and thighs, and I want to fuck it right back inside him like I usually do, but this is not about touching.
This is about proving a fucking point.
When I remove my hand, Bran’s lips reach for mine, but I step back and out of reach.