Page 12 of Ashes of Saints

“That’s an order,” Aurora replied. “Not an invitation.”

Yes, it was, and I wasn’t asking.

I leaned forward an inch and rasped, “Say yes.”

Her smile faded as she pulled in a short, nervous breath affected by the chemistry that was crackling like two spark plugs forced together.

If I’d been bolder, I would’ve accused her of having wet panties. I hated myself for wanting to find out.

I fucked enough women to know they were.

Fortunately, Aurora had interrupted my thoughts, nodded, and in a breathless voice, agreed to go to dinner with me.

Without wasting time, I lifted her hand, kissed her knuckles, and smirked. “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Winking, I turned and strode away. There was no need to glance over my shoulder. I knew Aurora was watching me. Hope she liked my tight ass. I’d been working hard on my glutes recently.

“Are we going straight to the club, boss?” Durran asks, snapping me out of my daydream as we drive through Manhattan.

I stretch out a leg, waiting for my semi-hard cock to settle down, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to. If she’s my fucking sister, I’m going to have to start going to the club every goddamn night.

Tonight is Friday, the night we meet up at the Alliance Club, thirty minutes out of the city.

Maddox bows out most weeks now that he’s engaged and Kyra is pregnant. Fair enough. We still have our Wednesday morning breakfasts at Dune—Killian’s four-star Michelin restaurant here in Manhattan.

“Yes. But I want to get changed first,” I reply.

“Got it.” Durran indicates to change lanes and heads to my penthouse on Billionaire Row.

I rub my hand over my cock. The sooner I get this information from Mary-Anne’s daughter, the sooner I can get her out of my life.

I shake my head.

I didn’t expect to feel the need to slam her against the side of my car, rip up her dress, and fuck her senseless in front of eight million people in New York City.

I shouldn’t be surprised by the unexpected desire. Sex was forced upon me, so I don’t think about it the same as other people. Sex is just sex.

The first time I came, my father was present. He slapped me on the shoulder and told me I was a good boy. I didn’t feel good. I felt dirty and scared.

That feeling goes away after a time, replaced with numbness.

I still enjoy carnal pleasures, obviously, but it’s a habit. Like smoking cigars. I enjoy it, but none of them are any good for me.

That’s not what this is though.

It’s rare for me to react to a woman so powerfully without choosing to get aroused, or either of us stroking my cock to join the party.

This was involuntary and a surprise.

The intellectual part of me knows I shouldn’t be attracted to Aurora if she is related to me, but my cock doesn’t care.

But I won’t fuck her.

Aurora’s role in my life is to provide me the answers I seek and to show me she isn’t the fucking saint I pictured her to be.

That she’s no better than me.

And lead me to the people who are still alive so I can string them up and let them bleed.

---