Page 51 of Bound By Obsession

Garrett walks over, headphones and all, delicately holding another shot in his tattooed fingers with a smirk in place, magnified by the neon lights. I stop bouncing on my heels as he trails a finger up my throat and gently pushes my chin upwards, lifting the glass and pouring its contents into my open mouth. Licking my lips after swallowing, Garrett bends his head to trail the same path with his own tongue. My dulled senses come tolife, electricity humming through the air, so potent I instantly feel wetness increasing between my thighs.

Needing to distance myself from the girl who’s about to throw herself at these hot and sweaty men, I signal for a timeout and edge away from the dance floor. Collapsing onto a beanbag, my chest heaves as I try to catch my breath around a fit of giggles. My head is woozy in the best kind of way as I watch the guys jump enthusiastically to a new beat. Axel has loosened up more than I’ve ever seen him, his arms thrown around his best friend’s shoulders as they sing ‘I’m the real Slim Shady’ at the top of their lungs. A smile is glued to my face, my cheeks starting to ache from holding it in place.

Movement at my side catches my ear, Wyatt on the beanbag next to me and lifting a beer to his lips. My eyes are already heavy as I watch him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Trailing lower, the light catches a steady rise and fall to his chest, controlled as always. His abs are tense beneath his pale shirt, the ink underneath bleeding through the fabric. My gaze reaches his belt buckle when his fingers click right in front of my face, jarring me back to his face.

“Stop that,” he frowns. I purse my own lips, the alcohol loosening them and suddenly, no thought in my mind is safe. Oh god, here it comes.

“It’s really not fair you know,” I knock his hand away. The action causes me to tumble closer. His expensive cologne hits me like a ten-ton truck.

“What isn’t?” Wyatt looks at me as if he’s humoring me, doing me some sort of favor.

“You being so fucking hot. Why couldn’t I get a stepbro who’s fugly as shit and doesn’t infuriate me at every turn?”

“We’re not related, remember,” Wyatt taps one finger on my forehead. I lunge, grabbing his wrist.

“Then why don’t you want me like they do?” My eyes widen at my own admission. I didn’t know I still cared what Wyatt thought, but here I am, holding his wrist like a lifeline, begging for him to admit that he likes me. That it doesn’t always have to be like this. Wyatt’s throat works again, his green eyes dancing between mine. When he doesn’t answer, I release him and sink further into the bean bag.

“Whatever Wyatt. I can’t be bothered to do this with you anymore. It’s exhausting. I relinquish all resentment between us.” I flourish my hand in the air, repeating that last part in my head as I’m not sure the syllables all made it out of my mouth. Who knew I was so eloquent when I’m shitfaced? Suddenly, I’m being spun, my shoulders gripped until Wyatt is all I can see. His face hovers over mine, his fingers digging into my skin a tad too harshly.

“I need you to hate me,” he states, voice low and harsh, every word hitting like a punch. His glare pierces through me, cutting deep, but I can see the tremor in his jaw, the flicker of something softer buried beneath the hardness.

“Why?” I demand, my voice cracking. My breath catches in my throat, his cologne flooding my senses. He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off him, the sharp rise and fall of his chest syncing with my own. “Why do I need to keep hating you all the time?”

Wyatt’s fingers tighten, and I flinch, feeling the sting. He doesn’t pull away. “Because,” he growls, but there’s a hesitation. A crack in the facade.

“Because what, Wyatt?” My voice is louder now, more insistent. I slam my fists into his chest but make no effort to put any distance between us. “Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep creating reasons to push me away?”

His breath hitches, and for a split second, his grip loosens. He looks away, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles aretwitching again. Then, as if the words are ripped from him against his will, he leans into my ear on a rough, strangled whisper.

“Because if you don’t hate me, there’s nothing to stop me fucking you into ruin, leaving my brothers to deal with the wreckage. I will shatter you, Avery. I’ll destroy every piece of your soul and piece it back together in a way only I know how to pleasure. You’ll crave my cock, scream my name when they slide into your tight cunt. Nothing good will come from this, only a devastation none of us can fix.”

The room stills, the music fading away into nothing. The air between us is so charged, it feels like a thread about to snap. I’m about to snap. His harsh eyes meet mine again, raw and exposed. Wild and desperate. “I nearly made that mistake once. I won’t let you get the better of my control again.”

Multiple heavy weights chuck themselves onto bean bags around me, and I blink up, realizing the music has in fact stopped. The guys are laughing at some private joke, panting from their dancing. Only Wyatt knows why my own cheeks are so flushed, my heart trying to tear itself free of my chest. Returning to his beer like nothing has happened, Wyatt downs the remainder of his bottle and chucks it aside.

“I’m out,” he announces, rising and moving to leave. Garrett chuckles, saluting Wyatt’s back.

“Avery will be butt naked and strapped to my bed in five minutes if you want to watch the show. She’s going to squirt so beautifully.” Garrett reaches over to brush his thumb over my bottom lip and I almost climaxed right then and there. The smile drops from his face, the sudden seriousness of his features reminding me that there is a monster lurking beneath the surface. A monster I’ve denied sex for four days, and I’m about to pay for it.

At the door, Wyatt has stilled, his back rigid. I hang on the precipice, waiting for the moment he walks up and slams the door closed. Waiting for the finality of it to hit my soul and break it, just like he promised but not for the same reasons. Instead, whether from the drunken buzz we’re all sporting or just drained from our constant to and fro, Wyatt turns back to face me. His expression is still unreadable as he approaches, the most lethal type of predator in this room because he’s the most unpredictable.

Sauntering over at a casual pace, my eyes are drawn to the shift of his powerful thighs through the tight material of his slacks. I swallow loudly to my own ears. Holding out his hand, Wyatt raises a brow. I don’t hesitate to accept and allow him to pull me to my feet.

This is better than I could have planned. Although I did plan it, and the evening is progressing to a fucking tee.

Last to exit the library, I still can’t believe Wyatt led Avery to my bedroom for me. My blood is raging at a fever pitch with the need to have her again. Axel has kept me sated and things between us are better than ever since our date, but knowing Avery is actively withholding her sweet cunt from me is a type of crazy I’ve never known.

Fisting my hands at my sides, I try to keep my legs from running down the hall. Knocking my bedroom door open hard enough for it to bang loudly against the wall, I find her waiting on my bed patiently, Wyatt in an armchair in the corner. Axel lowers onto the bed, his fingers playing with Avery’s hair, her chest lifting and falling with anticipation. He’s barely touchingher, yet her eyes are frantic with need. Exactly how I want her, I smirk to myself.

Planting a fresh beer in Wyatt’s hand, I give him a side wink. “Take a swig every time she cums,” I tell him, just to make sure he pays enough attention. We haven’t come this far for him to pussy out and pretend he doesn’t want to watch anymore.

As I near the bed, Axel and Avery stand together and wait for my instruction. I shiver, my dominant side roaring to life, a voice in my head screaming to bend and break them both. However, I promised Dax and Huxley I would play nice. The pair are lingering by the window, not knowing whether to sit or stand, but simultaneously deciding to cross their arms.

“Undress her,” I order, forcing my back to press against the wall. Axel takes his time, giving us all a show as he draws a path up her legs with his fingers. Reaching the edge of her dress, he eases it upwards, revealing her creamy skin bit by bit until the green material is pushed over her head. We all inhale sharply at the same time. The black lace framing her breasts push them up ever-so-slightly, her perfect nipples pink and pebbled. The curve of her hips are also enhanced by the high straps of the thong, tilting over her thighs and disappearing between her legs.

Avery stands tall, unashamed, undeterred by those only gawking at her. The circular scars on her ribs don’t matter to her anymore. She knows she’s flawless in our eyes. Not waiting for my next command, Avery takes her turn, unbuttoning the few buttons at the base of Axel’s collar bone, stripping him of his navy polo shirt with painful slowness. Rising onto her ballet-perfected tiptoes, she pushes it over his head, kissing a path over his jaw.

“Who said you could kiss him?” I ask but there’s no anger in my voice. Avery mutters against Axel’s skin.

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