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.
I’ve never seen him so hurt, so distraught as he looks right now. All the pleasure has vanished and he watches me slowly, warily, as if he’s seeing my eyes for the first time.
We tuck ourselves in as he faces me.
I grab his hand and he stiffens as I remove the watch and check beneath it. There’s an old scar but no new ones that I can see. Though he could be doing it somewhere hidden, like with the fucking nicks due to ‘shaving.’
“I didn’t…” He slowly pulls his hand free. “I haven’t done it since the last time.”
“Good.”
He cocks his head, his face unreadable. “Can you tell me what’s wrong now?”
“You better not let anyone else touch you or I swear to fuck my murder threats will become reality.”
He nods, his expression serious. “We’re exclusive, remember?”
“You should be the one who remembers that.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I turn around and hop on my bike.
“Wait. You’re leaving? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Nikolai. Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”
“You’ve done that countless times. Why can’t I?”
His expression drips with pain and he opens his mouth. I should be on my way, but I can’t. Not when he has something to say.
“I’m sorry.”
“What the fuck did I say about apologizing?”
“What do you want me to say or do? I’m trying to get close to you, but the harder I try, the further you slip away.”